#He. Goes in. Saving people. In that burning hell. Every back and forth
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TUMBLR STOP CUTTING ME OUT OF SCREAMING TAGS I KNOW MY TUMBLR RIGHTS
#Swerve and Jazz were working before. Not in a right way but they DID #No one knew it wasn't the same agsgsghah #And now they meet hello ahsvehwb #OH PLEASE
My hands are shaky and my head is refusing to work properly! But! I made it!
The Blurr chapter for Mecha au >:D
Blurr's job is not to fight for humanity.
Blurr's job is to smile for the camera and take the applause of people who praise him for his bravery and sacrifice. Blurr's job is to sell his face, his voice and his skills to millions of viewers. He must impress investors, show off advanced technology and make a determined face saying that to save mankind he is ready for anything. And then get in a luxury car and drive off to some expensive place to burn a whole bunch of zeros out of his paycheck.
He's not someone who stays after work to help his coworkers. And he's not the one who spends his nights trying to save as many people as possible. He signs autographs, makes big statements, and promises people he'll protect them.
And people believe him.
And they love him.
Swerve is sick of this spectacle. Swerve is sick of this man.
Under the cut
————————————
Nobody likes Blurr.
Okay, if you think on a large scale, everyone loooves Blurr. His face is on every poster, his brand is in every possible store, his voice and is in every cool commercial. You literally can't exist without knowing who Blurr is, or at least seeing his face once. It's a “Luke I'm your father” level phenomenon. How massive a rock do you have to live under to miss something like that?
Everybody loves Blurr. You can go buy a t-shirt with his face on it. You can go listen to his interviews or purchase a tiny replica of his action figure. There are incredibly many ways a Blurr fan can blow a hole in their budget.
Swerve knows, because he's done it many times. And recently, it's stopped being something he's proud of. To be precise, it was exactly four days ago when Blurr first stepped into his office. Swerve had just finished his shift and was finishing his tea when his boss suddenly appeared in the doorway, with the best racer in the world right behind him.
The tea was instantly dropped, adrenaline was released, and the brain was turned off.
In that moment, Swerve thought that this is what it must look like. The moment when all your good karma comes together in one pile to reward you for all the times you dropped a sandwich butter side down or missed a deadline.
Both of which happened with annoying regularity. Swerve is unlucky. Sometimes things seem to fall through his hands.
It started out great.
Swindle, their boss, showed up in the office space one day looking simultaneously jubilant, nervous, and very inspired. Usually on such occasions, Swerve could almost see the dollar signs reflected in his boss's glasses.
“Attention everyone. We have an important guest arriving in an hour.”
Swindle expressively pushed his glasses down on his nose and looked around the room
“I promised him a tour and I expect you all to behave yourselves.”
He meticulously looks around the floor beneath his feet
“Send someone to clean up all the trash. This place is unbelievably filthy. The floors should be sparkling in twenty minutes! And, oh! Hey you, go buy some good drinks.”
Having finished inspecting the floor Swindle hurriedly runs off, probably to say the same thing to the neighboring department.
Swerve stretches his neck out curiously, listening in
“Is the president coming to see us?”
Walking by, Jazz shrugs
“When the president was coming Swindle said the floor was dirty and made him wear boot covers.”
It's not the president
Swindle gestures generously to the entire office at once and looks overall like a bird trying his best to primp up
“And here we have the engineering department offices. In the next building is the assembly plant, that's where the mechs are put on their feet so to speak. And this is where all the computing, design, and planning happens.”
Just over his shoulder stands and looks around at none other than
Oh, dear God.
Swerve's tea flies to the floor next to his thought processes.
He's seen Blurr countless times, but never in person. How can this guy look as good in person as he does in expensive retouched-until-squeaky-clean photos? Mystery.
Blurr's gaze slides lazily over the simple office setting and for those two seconds when it's directed at Swerve it feels like sheer madness. He tries to look normal. He's not sure he's succeeding, but he's making an effort.
Swindle waltzes through the office, heading for the next door
“Come on I'll show you the mech hangar.”
Blurr grins.
��A highlight of the show I suppose~”
His voice is like a needle bursting a ball of stunned silence. People begin to rise from their seats and scramble to say hello. Someone asks for an autograph, others ask for a bunch of selfies, a couple people in the corner hastily fix their hair, one of the employees just pulls out his phone and shamelessly starts filming.
Swindle looks at the this with an unchanging commercial smile, but his gaze promises all kinds of punishment.
Perhaps if it had been the president, the buffoonery would have been smaller.
______________
For the next few days, Blurr is the big news and the center of all discussion.
Officially? He's becoming one of the pilots in the Mecha program.
In fact? Swindle's greedy soul couldn't get enough of the idea that the Mech concept could be monetized.
The dust is blown off Blurr and his boots are licked. He doesn't go to general training, he doesn't participate in ordinary or overly dangerous missions. He's allowed everything and a little more. His job is to look pretty on camera, speak his lines, smile and wink. He's a walking advertisement and Swindle's incredibly powerful tool in negotiating with investors.
Swerve once saw him called to a negotiation in the middle of the night, and even sleep-deprived and exhausted after a full day of filming, Blurr had the strength to pull that charming expression on his face and flawlessly play along with Swindle wherever he needed to.
His mech was a work of art. And that's not even an exaggeration. Usually the main purpose of mechs is to be efficient and practical. Blurr's Mech was made separately and so many people worked on its design that it could have its own end credits. It's beautiful, sleek, shiny and show-offy. It's designed to be awe-inspiring, but not so decorated that it's ridiculous.
When Swerve looks at its specs, he almost feels sick. Maneuverability, mobility, everything is absolutely top-notch. But most importantly, speed.
The technology to accelerate Mechs to incredible speeds has been around for some time, but the average robot doesn't reach even half of the technically possible maximum. Because even the fastest machine can't outrun the human brain.
After a certain threshold, pilots are no longer capable of controlling their own Mech. Human reaction speed is simply not enough to maneuver without crashing into anything or losing their orientation in space. And. Well. Without losing consciousness.
This has led to Mech manufacturers sort of tacitly agreeing on a rough speed limit and tending to stick to it. Just to make the technology safer and more suitable for everyone.
Regardless. Everyone except Blurr apparently.
Because the numbers across from his Mech's speed specs are horrifying. Swerve looks at the blueprints and thinks it's either freaking awesome or absolute suicide. Maybe something in between. Can a human being have reflexes like that? What about this turning mechanism? The numbers tell him that these levels of g-force make a large percentage of pilots just pass out.
Is Blurr really going to pilot this death wagon??
To achieve that kind of speed and mobility, they'd have to cut off half the armor or make it very light. Which would almost be like inviting a dangerous injury.
But if the Mech is made primarily to flaunt rather than fight...well... it probably makes sense.
Swerve's inner fan is sliding down the wall.
Blurr is incredible. And what's even more incredible is that he's kind of sort of almost Swerve's coworker now.
It only takes him a couple days to realize.
Everyone loves Blurr.
But the one who loves Blurr the most is Blurr himself.
The rose-tinted glasses are breaking slowly but surely. On the first day, Sverve walks up on shaky legs to get introduced. He tells himself that this is definitely not an attempt to get an autograph. They're coworkers. He's just...uh...greeting a new employee.
Blurr looks slightly bored.
“You're from this department....uh.. What's its name, whatever.”
Swerve clutches his hands in front of him so he doesn't accidentally drop anything
“OH.Uh yeah. Swerve! Engineering Department. You were there on a tour the other day. I usually work in the assembly plant, making armor for Mechs, developing new alloys. But I design too! I, uh.
(Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. He'll think you're a crazy fan. Don't talk about Blurr.)
Blurr starts to get sidetracked by his phone.
Swerve swallows awkwardly.
“I'm uh. I'm a big fan of yours. Sir.”
(Good job...)
Blurr chuckles softly and offers out his hand
“Well, nice to meet you.”
Sverve's hand is shaking like crazy, he hopes he isn't squeezing too hard. Working in the assembly has made his hands rough. Blurr's narrow, soft palm is almost sinking in his grip.
“ 'Nice to meet you, yes. Nice to meet you sir! If you, ah, if you have any problems or questions or uh, well. You know, if you need help with your Mech or upgrades or or.”
Blurr chuckles.
“I'll be counting on you~”
Swerve feels like his soul is about to break away from his body.
The next, day when they cross paths in the hallway Blurr waves to him.
“Hey you. Whatever your name is. Can you tell me how to get to Block D?
Swerve stops awkwardly.
“Ah. Of course! I'm Swerve sir. Come, I'll show you.”
Blurr smiles a beautiful, ad-libbed smile and follows him in
“Thank you darling.”
From this point on, the entire program gradually learns a simple but unpleasant truth.
Blurr is an asshole.
And nobody likes him.
He always has everyone at his beck and call. You rarely get to see him on his own. There's always someone swirling around him with a guilty or annoyed face. A sort of serve-get-show-explain designated poor guy.
Swindle treats Blurr like a precious antique vase.
Blurr treats people like his servants.
The whole world is in love with the glittering cover, the image polished to a squeak. Until recently, Swerve was doing the same thing. Now it feels more like an embarrassing crush.
Blurr still doesn't remember his name. He actually remembers at most three to four people by name, and calls everyone else “hey you” or “ darling”. After Swerve reintroduced himself to him for the fourth time he just sort of...stopped trying.
On the field, Blurr is incredible. No one can deny that. The tremendous speed of his Mech leaves all the other pilots in the dust. Whoever said human reflexes weren't fast enough? HA. When Swerve sees his reports and results, he gets dizzy.
The combination of such incredible speeds and light armor means Blurr simply can't miss. If he hesitates, if he falters. If he gets confused. The whole metal thing will smash him to smithereens.
And yet Blurr comes back untouched time after time.
Swerve's no longer inclined to think it's just because of his mad skills. He knows that Swindle is paying Blurr a lot of money for his cooperation. No one would let Blurr fight on the front lines, no. It would be too dangerous. He has to do just enough so that Swindle can record a commercial and in it call Blurr a badass pilot without adding small print to that statement.
Blurr's job is not to fight for humanity.
Blurr's job is to smile for the camera and take the applause of people who praise him for his bravery and sacrifice. Blurr's job is to sell his face, his voice and his skills to millions of viewers. He must impress investors, show off advanced technology and make a determined face saying that to save mankind he is ready for anything. And then get in a luxury car and drive off to some expensive place to burn a whole bunch of zeros out of his paycheck.
He's not someone who stays after work to help his coworkers. And he's not the one who spends his nights trying to save as many people as possible. But he is the first person every citizen would name if asked to say something about the Mech program. He signs autographs, makes big statements, and promises people he'll protect them.
And people believe him.
And they love him.
A month later, he still can't remember anyone's names and sometimes calls people by the colors of their clothes, laughing as if they should take it as a cute joke.
Swerve is sick of this spectacle. Swerve is sick of this man.
That's okay.
It's not like fanboying over Blurr is Swerve's only passion.
He gets upset.
Then he gets mad and rips down all the posters.
Then he has no time to be angry because Swindle wants to launch Mechs into outer space and damn it, Jazz flies off the planet and doesn't fucking come back. The engineering department stays up nights trying to figure out where he's gone, but they can't.
Unlike Blurr, everybody loved Jazz.
Unlike Blurr, Jazz deserved every ounce of that love.
The ground beneath his feet is starting to shake.
At first, all that happens is panic. Everyone starts making a confused noise, someone assumes an earthquake.
A voice on the speakers says that everyone needs to evacuate immediately, but no one hears it because huge mechanical tentacles start coming through the windows and the whole building starts shaking, creaking and crumbling.
Sverve has seen the monsters humanity has to fight many times. But never this close. And their size leaves him absolutely terrified. These things are huge, they take up all visible space. And what's most damning is that they can break down the walls around Swerve like a fucking cookie.
He's gonna die. Oh god he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die here under this stupid rubble or get eaten or turned into one of the ugly bloody stains on the wall. His heart is doing a million beats a minute and his eyes are starting to sting. He tries to get to the emergency exit, but the door is blocked by one of the huge toothy creatures that is actively trying to get in.
Next to him, Swindle is shouting to someone on his comm, trying to sound louder than the rumble of the collapsing building and the hungry aliens.
The floor tilts at a very disturbing angle and Swerve grabs one of the interior doorways to stay in place. A second later, he reaches out and pulls Swindle, who has already slowly begun to slip toward the monster's huge hungry maw, to the same doorway.
Swindle grabs onto the frame of the door and Swerve at the same time. His glasses are cracked and his usually neat expensive coat is all dust and debris.
“It was a trap.”
Swerve can't hear a word over the grinding of breaking structures.
“What?”
Swindle almost slips and falls, but Swerve grabs him by the scruff of his coat and puts him back on his feet. Working in an assembly shop gives a man strong arms and right now he's very grateful for it.
Swindle makes a second, louder attempt
“It was a trap!!! All available pilots are now on the other side of the country! I've called for backup, but who knows how fast they'll get here.”
A smooth, silky voice comes from a walkie-talkie strapped to his coat.
“Ouch Swindle. So little faith in my professional skills?”
Swindle rounds his eyes
“Blurr??! Where are you!”
Blurr's voice sounds...not quite as it usually does. It's missing the habitual lazy note. The one that makes him sound like the whole world owes him money.
“Give me another minute and the answer will be 'here'.”
The building shakes again. Swindle swears so eloquently that Swerve can't help but admire it.
Swerve can't stand Blurr's smug face, but when he spots the first glimpse of blue metal in the window, joy floods his brain.
He usually associates Blurr with dumb nicknames, dismissive treatment, and commercials.
Now he watches the sleek, fast Mech lunge fearlessly at the monsters surrounding the building and thinks that. Fuck this. He's an asshole, but if he buys Swerve enough time to evacuate, he'll bring him a thank you card or something later. Though it's unlikely Blurr will care about that of course.
Swindle continues to shout instructions over the walkie-talkie. Swerve basically drags him outside by. He jumps up probably a full meter when very near him one of the monsters falls to the ground.
Blurr's Mech stands proudly on top of the fresh corpse and looks...actually really bad. Swerve knows that this particular robot was not built for rough, open confrontation. Its armor is too thin. Designed for speed and agility, not strength. He assembled it himself, after all.
Many of the plates are crumpled. Some are torn off. His legs are intact, but one of the joints sparks funny.
Blurr quickly looks around and Swerve unwittingly follows his example. The whole place is on fire. Office buildings are in ruins and a huge column of black smoke rises above the assembly plant.
Blurr's Mech drops to the ground and gets down on one knee. The plates on its chest are pulled aside and Blurr sticks his head out of the cockpit while simultaneously opening the visor on his helmet.
“Everyone okay?”
Swindle clutches the walkie-talkie
“The office areas are empty, but there still could be people left on the lower floors of the assembly plant. But we have no access there!”
Blurr drums his fingers quickly on the metal plate
“Fire?”
Swindle shrugs his dusty shoulders
“Something exploded at the bottom of the building. It's a real smelter down there.
Even if we send a Mech, it won't last more than a minute before it overheats. Or make the building collapse.”
Blurr's gaze becomes focused. Sharp. Swerve has seen that look many times on tough front line fighters like Jazz. On Blurr, never.
“'That's enough time for me.”
Swindle waves his hands
“Are you crazy?”
Blurr slaps his palm against the armor of his Mech
“This baby is light. Lighter than anything you've got! If anyone can do it without dropping the building, it's me. They make Mechs in the assembly hall, it's got high ceilings right?”
Swerve wants to snap. He wants to throw his hands up angrily and yell something along the lines of “you were literally there!”
Who else is down there on those lower floors??? Tailgate? Maybe Wheeljack? If something exploded, Wheeljack was definitely there. And probably closest to the explosion.
Swindle curses furiously, but retreats and runs off to give orders to someone else.
“”Be a hero if you want, but I'm not going in there. For all I know there could be melting metal in there instead of a floor! It's just not reasonable.”
Swerve's brain stumbles over that statement. Why...Swindle is acting like he's being forced to climb into that building too...?
Blurr looks nervous.
“You know what. Fine. I got it. Hey, you--”
And there it is. The good old namelesness.
Blurr pays no attention to Swerve's frowning face, nor his hands shaking with fear
“ You're familiar with those buildings. You know who was there and where to find them right? I need you to walk me through.”
Swerve feels the urge to snap again and this time doesn't hold it back
“If you cared about something other than yourself, you'd know this damn building and the people who work in it too and !”
“I don't fucking remember!” Blurr interrupts him.
Swerve doesn't have time to put anything in after that. Though a sarcastic comment is begging to be made.
Blurr quickly takes off his helmet and wipes the sweat off his forehead.
“I don't remember okay! This isn't a fad or posing or whatever else you think of me. This is what an accident can do to you if you miss a turn! I can't remember shit, okay?! Do you need a medical report?!”
Swerve just...stands there with his mouth open and probably looks like an idiot.
Blurr nervously tucks back his disheveled hair. The longer he talks, the faster he does it.
“Now. I know you don't want to die in a pit of fire. But I need your help to save them. Don't do anything, just take the map. I promise I won't let you die.”
He sounds determined. And holds out his hand to Swerve, silently inviting him to climb up onto the Mech.
His face is stained in sticky dust, his hair is an absolute mess, and his narrow palm is covered in streaks of soot. It's as if he's been dragged face down a muddy road.
He's. Very Handsome, Swerve thinks.
He takes his hand.
Blurr helps him up, pushes him into the space next to the pilot's seat, and closes the cockpit.
“Been inside a working Mech ever?”
Swerve clenches his hands nervously on the back of the seat
“No.”
The lights of the consoles around him come to life as Blurr puts on his helmet. The space around him hums. It's a strange noise. At once unsettling and calm.
Mech feels alive, he thinks. Then corrects himself. Blurr is mind-linked to this Mech. This Mech can technically be considered alive in a sense.
Blurr moves one of the monitors toward him and opens the map.
“Just mark the path here. Don't touch anything else. And hold on tight. I won't be going too fast anyway, but it'll be shaky.”
Swerve swallows nervously.
“Understood.”
After that, everything turns into motion. Watching the Mech work while being inside is mesmerizing.
Blurr doesn't say much, concentrating on the controls. His hands aren't shaking anymore, Swerve notices. Not even a little.
He steers the machine forward confidently and smoothly, dodging falling debris and avoiding the biggest pockets of fire without panic or hesitation.
He's also strictly following the path Swerve is laying out for him.
The air filtration system is doing well so far. Swerve can feel the smell of burning and the heat slowly creeping up, but it's bearable for now. For now.
They find a man on the nearside of the emergency exit.
Two more people a floor below. A small group stuck in the elevator.
Wheeljack's on the doorstep of his lab.
Blurr pulls them all out. Picks up the first group of people and carries them outside, goes back into the fiery furnace, finds more survivors, pulls them out, goes back, searches, rescues, goes back, searches, rescues.
The heat is coming up. Swerve can feel it. The plates around him are getting hot. The air smells like burnt wires.
Blurr’s Mech wasn't designed for this kind of thing.
His Mech was made to flash for the camera and accelerate to impossible speeds. To deceive and confuse the enemy. Its armor is thin and cools easily in the air, which usually helps it avoid overheating.
This also means that this Mech heats up very quickly as well.
Now, with the air around him feeling like a red-hot frying pan, Swerve regrets not saying anything back then. He regrets that he didn't make any changes to the blueprint.
More and more warnings pop up on the screens. The map stopped working correctly some time ago and Swerve is forced to give directions verbally.
He nervously grips the back of the pilot seat with one hand and, without noticing, Blurr's shoulder with the other.
Blurr carries two more people outside and hands them to the rescuers. Then turns back to the building again and. OH FUCK. Right in front of him, a huge crack begins to creep along the structure. This thing is on the verge of collapse. The roof is already starting to fold down in a very bad way.
Swerve clenches his grip fearfully and hears Blurr hiss through his teeth.
Suddenly, the cockpit opens. The fresh air of the street feels like a cold sledgehammer blow after the heat and stuffiness of the lower levels.
Swerve is about to ask something, but doesn't have time because Blurr uses Mech's hand to gently but quickly pull him outside and set him on the ground.
“You were going to mark another spot.”
Swerve nods hurriedly.
“Tailgate is still there.”
Blurr wrinkles his face.
Swerve corrects himself and clarifies
“Bright blue uniform. Short. Considering all the places we've been, I think he's in the staff quarters. It's...”
He chews his fingers, trying to remember numbers and directions without a map
“...two floors down, left, another floor down and straight ahead.”
As he speaks Blurr bends over the side of the open cockpit and spits...blood on the ground. His nose is bleeding, Swerve realizes. That's not good. It's a clear sign of a malfunctioning neural connection. Or damage to his respiratory system? Possibly both.
Blurr doesn't seem to notice his worried look
“Two down, left down then. Shit. Wait. Two down, left then down, straight ahead yeah?”
Swerve nods.
Blurr keeps repeating these directions like a mantra. A very fast and creepy mantra.
His gaze roams strangely and his breaths sound hoarse. His teeth and chin are covered in blood and his face is streaked with soot.
Swerve understands. He's about to do another go.
Two down, left, down, straight. Two down, left, down, straight. Two down, left, down, straight.
Alone. He's going, and he's going to fry himself alive in there for a stranger he doesn't even remember.
Swerve doesn't have time to say anything. What's he gonna say? Stop? But he wants to save Tailgate? Go on, I believe in you? But it's certain death.
Swerve rarely has nothing to say, but this time he can't find the right words.
Blurr wipes the blood with his sleeve, wrinkles his nose, and storms off, heading back into the flaming mess the plant has become.
Not twenty seconds later, the roof collapses, spewing a huge cloud of smoke, ash, and fire into the sky.
Swerve wrinkles his shirt nervously in his hands.
The walls are still in place, right? If the roof is gone but the walls are still standing it's... it's. It's.
Damn it. He's trying to remember the blueprints. It means the ejector will work. It means Blurr can still get out through the top. That--
Blurr's not getting out. As the small, bright blue escape pod appears above the falling walls of the building, Swerve feels his brain stop. Remember the blueprints, remember the damn blueprints. The Mech is light, the design is compact, the space in the pod is for only one person.
In the capsule lies an unconscious Tailgate.
Swindle grasps the radio
“Blurr? BLURR!”
Swerve looks at the smoke and ash and feels numb. He doesn't want to be here anymore. He has to know. He doesn't...
He feels weird. The same kind of weird as when objects fly seemingly through him. Everything just stops being real.
The thought comes out of nowhere. You don't have to obey the rules. You can see more. Just look.
He's not sure how or why he's doing it.
No one around him is paying much attention to him. Everyone's busy with survivors and damage assessment or just stunned by the chaos.
And him? He disappears.
And then he appears at the bottom. Under the rubble.
All around him is ugly, molten and red-hot chaos, but he doesn't care anymore. He feels like whatever is happening is about to end and he just has to be in time. Time for him to find out.
Blurr's Mech lies crushed by the fallen roof. Its cockpit is open. A gaping hole where his chest was, the place where the escape pod had undocked.
Wall debris has pinned him in a crooked, grotesque pose.
Blurr is here. His legs are wedged between crumpled metal plates inside the cockpit, leaving him hanging upside down. His suit is charred. Half of his face is destroyed. It looks like a horrible bloody and burned mess. It's ugly and gruesome.
Blurr opens his only working eye and gives Swerve a cloudy look.
“I must be seeing things...”
Swerve shrugs in daze. He knows he shouldn't be here.
Blurr spits up a mouthful of blood
“I'm sorry I hurt you uh...”
“Swerve.”
“Yes. Swerve. It's hard for me to remember things unless they're...akgh...hell... not in my face all the time.”
Swerve moves closer and frowns
“You know, that explains but doesn't excuse you.”
Blurr closes his eye and coughs. That sounds really bad.
“No...I guess not.”
He huffs off the blood again. The burned half of his face is oozing with it. The blood runs down his forehead, collecting in a small puddle on the floor.
“It was better than letting everyone know what's wrong with me. I can't even begin to think about the amount of messes I'd be dragged into.”
Swerve notes that the fire seems to be getting closer.
This whole bit of dialog is so unnatural. Who even talks about that kind of stuff before they die. On the other hand. Well. Character development?
“So you think it's better to have everyone assume you're a jerk than that you got your head screwed on?”
Blurr wrinkles his nose.
“ You're a very specific kind of ghost.”
Swerve shoves his hands in his pockets and looks away
“I needed to know. Before you die.”
“That's ...akghhh...ha....it's good to know. Can you tell me something Swerve? As..agh...
As a last wish?”
Swerve shrugs again. He stares at the dripping blood. At the ugly, bubbling burns. At the burst vessels in his eye and the paths of blood from his bleeding nose. He looks at the broken and scorched and dying bloody mess.
He looks at Blurr.
And he thinks, until today, he didn't really love Blurr. Not with the posters and figurines. Not with the disdain and dislike.
He loved an image. And hated an image.
He reaches out and tries to touch Blurr's hand, but goes through it.
“I'm sorry. But we're both not really here. And I have to go.”
He can feel the cold metal around him, which is strange because he's standing in the middle of smoking and burning ruins
“But if it makes you happy, I guess you're my favorite character after all.”
Blurr doesn't answer. Swerve isn't sure he even heard him.
The feeling of metal around him grows sharper.
Someone shines a flashlight in his face.
Swerve blinks stupidly and tries to move away.
The unknown Autobot medic standing over him smiles happily and puts the flashlight away
“Welcome back. You've been in a coma Primus knows how long.”
The other medic to the side frowns
“You have zero tact.”
Swerve blinks his optics puzzled, raises his servo and for a while just stares at it like some movie character. All around him is an Autobot medbay. Metal walls. Metal instruments. And him. Metal.
Yes. Seems so. That's the way he's always been. That's right.
“Doc, you won't believe what kind of weird dream I had.”
___________
Swerve feels like he's going crazy.
He's standing in the middle of a hallway on one of the Autobot ships, and he's staring. shamelessly.
There's Prowl standing at the end of the hallway. And on his shoulder is...
“ JAZZ????”
Both bot and human turn around abruptly at his scream. And both look equally puzzled.
Jazz waves his hand
“Do I know you?”
Swerve is definitely going crazy. It's Jazz. The same one. From his...dream??? But he's real and tangible??? Sitting on Prowl's shoulder, talking and breathing and being seen by everyone not only Swerve????
“You're...real...?”
Jazz raises his eyebrows
“I am. Yes. Really Mech, you sound very familiar.
But I can tell you for a fact that I have not been friends with any Cybertronians before...”
This can't be, this can't be, this isn't....
It was a dream. The spawn of his TV series-addled mind. A hallucination. It wasn't real. It wasn't, was it?
But Jazz is here. And he disappeared from Earth. And now he's here.
And.
What the..
Swerve blurts out something like “sorry-sorry-see-you-later-now-I've got to go” and runs off.
“HEY DOC????”
The autobot, already familiar to him, flinches
“Primus...Swerve? Is something wrong?”
Swerve realizes that everything is about to either make sense or lose it completely.
“Tell me...is it possible to project a holoform...like...very far away?”
The Doctor tilts his head.
“Depends on power consumption. If you channel all the energy available in a frame, you can go very far. But that would send you into a...coma...if you...tried...Swerve, is there anything you'd like to tell me?”
“Doc do you know where Earth is?”
“Wha...no?”
Swerve chuckles nervously and bites his knuckles.
“I don't either. But I think I've been there...”
#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA#OKAY OKAY OKAY I'M FINALLY HERE AND I SWEAR TO GOD I AM IN LOVE WITH IT WITH EVERY INCH OF ME#OKAY OKAY OKAY WHERE TO HOW TO#President is not as important pfffht#Everyone loves Jazz!!! Yes everyone does and now Jazz left PLOT INTERVENING MY FAV MY FAV HERE IT GOES OH GOD#Blurr forgetting names and EXPLANATION TO IT#He forgets everything because of the Mecha he had to pilot and little misses in it and no better be a jerk#I mean it could be used against him so of course#He. Goes in. Saving people. In that burning hell. Every back and forth#His mech is lot built for it but he goes straight in#Oh my god I need a moment to breath#LAST GO AND HIS FACE BURNED. HERE IT GOES#*puts phone down* *gets phone back*#How do I even....#Swerve...#I MAKE SUCH AN UGLY FACE WHEN HE “BECAME TRANSPARENT”#Just flew out of his body#While Blurr was talking#And then APPEARED ON CYBERTRON AS A BOT AHAHAAHH#THIS IS 10000 TIMES BETTER THAN I COULD IMAGINE I AM GOING CRAZY#AN EARTH FAN WHO FANNED SO HARD THAT ENDED UP PROJECTING HIS HOLOGRAM ON EARTH AND GOT INTO COMA#PLEASE I HAVE AN UNBEARABLE UMPUNT OF LOVE FOR THIS TURN#THE TALL OF THESE TWO AHAH#THEN SEEING JAZZ WPFKIFODOSPAPF#oh god I need to sit down again....#AH I SAW THAT BLURR WILL BE ALIVE SO I JUST "YOU WON'T DIE.'#BUT SWERVE IS SURE HE WILL DIE#And he just guilt tripped him before death ahah oh sh and then called him his fav character#SWERVE. SWERVE AHAH HELLO NOW THIS ISN'T A DREAM AHAHAHA#fav
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Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 92
Part 1 Part 91
Eddie laugh cuts off with a snotty scoff directed toward Carol when she’d immediately walked to the thermostat to crank it up. Eddie’s face is a mess of blood and bruising, and he’s listing slightly as he walks. Will wants to grab the phone and call for an ambulance. Have all the doctors in their white coats scan Eddie’s brain for damage, his knuckles for breaks.
He clutches Steve tighter into his side, and stares at Carol as she whirls toward Eddie, brow furrowed as she mutters out a tired, “what?”
Her face is just as bruised and swollen, but there’s no blood clotting along her hairline or pouring out of her nose. And her steps are steady as she moves through the house.
The years of friendship and history trail her every movement in this house. The way she fished the key out of its hiding spot, the way she works the Harrington’s fancy thermostat with minimal fiddling. The way she moves with such purpose, like she knows every spot the floorboard creaks and what every cupboard contains.
It makes Will ache somewhere deep, where Mike and Dustin and Lucas live within him.
Did Steve and Carol have sleepovers, performing late-night missions for forbidden snacks and risky science experiments? Did they grow together, here in the Harrington’s empty mausoleum – elementary, to middle, to high school – chained at the hip until the chain snapped?
Will knows Steve in the way he’s a sword and shield. In the way his words take shape, and his body holds space. But he doesn’t know what haunts him through rooms, trailing behind like a ghost he can’t shake.
He knows the shape of his parents, looming in unreturned calls from hospital rooms, and the way sometimes other high schoolers will walk up to Steve around town, clapping his shoulder and shaking his hand like he’s someone they recognize, even while Steve’s smiles turns fixed and blank.
He knows what he’s observed from the edges of ghosts Steve hasn’t been able to hide.
Will wants desperately to know what’s knocking around inside Steve’s head.
They’ll get him back, so Will can ask.
“You really think that’s going to be enough?” Eddie asks, scowling at Carol with crossed arms.
Carol hits the button a few more times before turning back toward Eddie with a raised eyebrow. “What would you suggest?” She says it calmly, sweetly, but Will’s known enough scary people to see the murderous intent in her eyes.
“We run him a bath!”
Carol scoffs. Apparently, they’re trading them back and forth. “You think that’ll be hot enough?”
“The Harrington’s heat their pool in the winter. I should know, I got dragged into Hell through it!” Eddie gestures expansively at the closed blinds blocking their view of the pool.
“What are you—”
“I think they’re boiler can handle a measly bathtub!”
His Mom chimes in agreeing with Eddie’s plan, but Will barely notices. He stares out at the pool past the closed blinds, trying to capture the scene. The Demogorgon getting it’s claws into Eddie and dragging him through the pool. Steve, ever the hero, jumping in after to save his friend.
Had the chlorine burned? Had they been scared?
Will pulls their connection into himself, desperate to feel their liveliness pulling back. Eddie whips his head around, meets his eyes as he tugs back. Steve doesn’t stir at all.
He’s docile at Will’s side, something else holding Steve’s body upright as he’s trapped in his head. It should be a relief, not to have to lug Steve’s weight up the stairs, but it’s not.
Will wants him to settle his hand on one of Will’s shoulders, let go of some of the burden, show he’s still a person somewhere in there, with limits and needs.
But he goes where Barbara and Will prompt him, nudging him forward with a branding hand on his
“How are we going to keep the headphones and blindfold dry?” Carol demands, but she’s following closely behind, hand brushing Will’s side every now and then, like she’s got her palms raised to catch Steve if he stumbles.
“How hard do you think it’ll be to keep his head above water?” Eddie calls from a few steps above, not turning around but shaking his head hard enough that his frizzy curls fly around, almost smacking them in the face. “Babies manage it.”
Carol doesn’t reply, but when they reach the second floor, she shoves past them all to lead down the hall, past the plaid bedroom where they’d found Steve curled up in his closet last time.
The room she leads them could fit the Byers entire living room and kitchen in it. It’s large and airy, but empty aside from a soulless painting of a cityscape across from the largest bed Will’s ever seen and a chest of drawers with nothing but a vase and a bouquet of fake flowers arranged atop it.
Will stops for a second, gaping around at the lifeless husk passing as living quarters until his Mom clasps his shoulder, pushing him along.
Carol leads them to a bathroom. It’s sterile and white, lighting like a hospital, tub large and deep enough to fit three grown men.
Will stops, staring down at the empty tub, bubbling with trepidation.
Steve’s vulnerable, possessed, and vacant, and now they’re, what? Throwing him into the fire?
This house is already so vast and empty, swallowing Steve back up like it’s been starving for him since he left. Should they do this here, of all places?
Will’s hesitation doesn’t stop anything. Steve’s placid enough that Barbara can lead him on her own. Once she reaches the lip of the tub, she leads Steve’s foot up and over the lip, settling it in. He follows with the other on his own, foot raised at the exact same height before he lowers it to join the other.
Once both feet are in the tub, Barbara pushes on his shoulders, urging him down in the bath, fully clothed.
Eddie’s shuffled up beside Barbara, reaching into Steve’s pocket and fishing Jonathan’s Walkman out, setting it gently on the porcelain tile below the tub. The headphone chord stretches taught, but the jack stays firmly in the port, just barely reaching its destination.
Carol reaches around Barbara, hand on her shoulder to keep steady as she reaches down to stopper the tub. Eddie reaches down, hands on Steve’s shoulders as he pushes him down until he’s prone, head propped up on the lip of the tub to keep the headphones and blindfold dry and in place.
“I’ve got you, Stevie,” Eddie whispers, but his voice carries in the confines of the bathroom. “You’ll be just fine.”
Everyone stares down at them for a moment, stalled at the threshold. Steve’s skin’s turning pink where Eddie’s hands are still holding Steve’s shoulders, pushing down with force, like he’s a mother getting ready to drown her young.
What will the hot water do to his skin?
It’s Mom that moves first. She turns the knob of the tub as high as it will go, and water cascades down.
It only takes a moment for the steaming water to reach Steve’s feet. He gasps, curling his feet into his ribs until he’s in the fetal position.
Eddie just keeps holding him there, whispering things into Steve’s ear that Will can no longer hear over the sound of the water filling the tub and Steve’s own whining gasps.
Everyone else stares, watching his skin turn a vibrant pink, darkening to red as it crawls up the back of his calves.
It’s not until the water starts raising, engulfing his back and ribs that the screaming starts. It’s guttural and loud, deep in Steve’s throat. It’s reverberating, like static from a misfiring radio, echoing strangely off the walls of the bathroom.
It sounds wrong, like nails on a chalkboard. Like the Demogorgon, screeching before it devours its prey. Like the Demodogs howls echoing from beneath the earth.
Something not Steve is calling out its pain from within him. Will hopes, fervently and with all he is, that Steve’s untouched somewhere in there.
Steve jackknifes up, back lurching out of the bathwater as Eddie does all he can to keep him down. Will rushes forward, dropping to his knees hard enough on the stone tile floor that he feels the reverberations all the way through his teeth. He sinks his own hands into the hot bath beside everyone else’s, pushing him back down.
Even with all their hands pushing, it’s a struggle to keep him under. Steve thrashes his head back and forth, Jonathan’s headphones falling off into the water and floating away on the waves made by his struggle.
Eddie’s sobbing, open and loud, tears trailing down his bloody nose and dripping saltwater and blood onto Steve’s own face.
They trail down Steve’s own cheeks, leaving bloody tears that look as if they’re leaking from his own eyes.
It reminds Will of the one time he’d gone to church with Mike, Christ on the cross, dripping tears and blood, a martyr of his own making as he slowly died.
Steve’s been dying by inches. Will latches onto their connection and yanks. Like he can pull him free from all that smoke, off the cross, into the boiling tub.
Beside him, Will feels Eddie doing the same, still weeping. He’s not pushing Steve into the water anymore, the rest of them strain harder against Steve’s thrashing to make up for it.
Eddie’s cupping Steve’s face, fingers digging into his cheeks like claws, opening scratches that mix with the blood already dripping down his face. “Get the fuck out of him,” he snarls, digging his nails in harder. “Do you hear me?”
“Is it working?” Carol demands, breathless with strain.
No one answers. The bathroom is growing hot even for them. It’s filling with steam and sweat and screams. It’s suffocating. Will wants to flee. To curl into the fetal position and wait for Steve to come back. His Steve. Not this thing.
But then he feels Steve pull back. It’s fluttering against Will’s ribs, like a caged bird straining against its constraints. Feathers flying until it’s free.
Eddie gasps, hand slapping against Steve’s face hard enough that the sound of skin against skin echoes even past Steve’s continued screams.
“It’s working!” Eddie cries.
Will pushes harder against Steve as his thrashing grows stronger, more desperate.
The tubs full now, overflowing and flooding into the bathroom. Only Eddie’s iron-clad grip on Steve’s face is keeping him out of the water and breathing.
“Not fast enough,” Carol says, voice gravely like her throats all clogged up. “Aren’t you the one that said that the little punk girl doing whatever she’s doing could hurt him?”
“What do you want me to do?” Eddie demands shrilly. He’s leaning forward so far over the tub that his hair’s trailing into it, ends wet.
Will wants to tie it up in a ponytail for him the way he does for Mom sometimes when her hands are wet with dish soap. But then Carol lets go of Steve, storming out of the bathroom with a frustrating shriek down low in her throat, and Will’s got other priorities.
“Shit, hold him, hold him!” Barbara calls, and all three of them press down hard, Eddie fighting against them with his clutching hands.
Steve’s still screaming, and crying, and flailing. He doesn’t know it yet, but his oldest friend just walked out on him, just like his parents and every other friend besides those crouched over him now.
It's going to hurt, once he’s back.
Steve’s flailing more now, like that thing inside him can sense the weakness in their ranks.
Will stays and holds his friend down as he shakes. It’s not a surprise when he shakes them free, sending everyone sprawling down onto the wet tile with a splash.
It is a surprise when the first thing Steve does is lunge forward to wrap his hand around Will’s throat and squeeze.
Will gasps, fingernails raking against the back of Steve’s hands where it’s choking him. Around them, everyone screams.
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Part 93
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie upsidedown au#will byers#Eddie once again Absolutely Losing His Shit on Steve in a dire situation. His vaguely Violent reaction to extreme stressors is so important#to me. I always think of him in the UD fighting the bats when he does that little 'come one!' freaking out thing. He Freaks Out. He does#and that includes an extremely maladaptive response to the thought of losing those he cares about
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Safe Harbor
Description: Viola has had a really, really, really long day as an EMT. Luckily, Kazu is there to help her.
1.9k words
Notes: Okay, so I love @tricitymonsters game so so much, and even though we haven't seen much of Kazu yet, he's one of my favorites. So, I had to write a fic about him and an OC of mine. Rest assured that after the end Kazu goes right back to doing his thing for schedule.
TW: mentions of burns and child death, mentions of bodily fluids (NO GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS), PG-13 movie level cursing, let me know if you see other things worth mentioning.
It has been a long day.
Blisteringly fast-paced, as Viola's shifts always were, but dragging on and on through some of the worst events in her career.
A little girl and a muffin print sun dress they almost got to the hospital, before Nancy had to call time. An old man, one that looked like the bitter old bastard she called her Paw, who was covered head to toe with broken skin and burns, his cataract cloudy eyes spinning sightlessly in pain. A gang shootout on main was the gory frosting atop her shit cake of a shift, with 37 civilian casualties and hours of back and forth to and from the scene.
She ran through both her spare pants and had already used her planned laundry quarters yesterday, after another grueling 12-hour shift. Her pens are all gone, given to the nurses and now she has to stock up before her next shift. On top of that, the fuzzy dice she carries with her to lovingly hang in the pit trap of an ambulance her team of three shared had been stolen after she accidently left them yesterday, probably by the bastards on night shift.
Viola really just wanted to see Kazu. She knows it's hard to date when you work emergency medicine. Viola’s had all the arguments and all the scars and all the cigarette shared stories to tell her that. But she can't quite help believing Kazu is different, that her life won’t be too much for him.
He's a bit of a pain to sleep with, Viola's muscle man, but well worth the fact that she actually gets to talk to him every morning. It's almost domestic the way he kisses her breathless when she leaves and checks her for bruising when she gets back.
Kazu understands duty and suffering and cares a hell of a lot more than people pretend he does. He hates it when she smells hospital sterile but doesn't flinch when she's bitter and smells of her own sweat and other people's bodily fluids.
To get to him though, she has to get home. Her feet hurt, thick socks and supportive boots that do nothing for her at this point, and she's so hungry she might snap and attack the next street food stand she sees. And she wants to see Kazu. Know he's home and breathing and grumbling along to whatever new J-Pop idol has him obsessed.
Viola keeps trudging back to their shared apartment, thick bag slung over her aching back. Her rain jacket is pulled high over her face against the drizzle, but she can still feel stragglers getting wet and she's so tired.
She gets through the base floor easily enough, nodding to Mrs. Nguyen but not having the energy to talk or entertain the woman's claims that her grandson would be better for Kazu than she would be because “your hours simply aren't as compatible with him as his are”. As if she doesn't worry enough about that on her own.
When she reaches the front door, she just leans against it for a long moment with her eyes closed. A tall dark figure carrying a mysterious dark lump on their back is probably ominous to the neighbors, but Viola's fucks have all died in a drought about six hours ago when a 25-year-old vomited all over her and screamed threats as Viola and Nancy tried to save her life.
Still, the only way she's getting off her feet is going inside, so Viola hoists herself off of the white door and shoves her key in the lock, pressing precisely to manage the way the door sticks.
The bubbly hum of one of Chu-Z's older songs and the smell of hot food is almost enough to send her to her knees in tears right then. Viola’s bag drops to the ground with a thud, and she has the vague thought to be grateful that there are no metallic or shattering sounds even as she haunts forward like a woman possessed.
The short hall she’s in is dark, with shoes cluttered in their stand and a metal tray where she dumps her keys and lip balm. Viola should take off her shoes here. Should avoid tracking the grime of the day further into their home, but she’s fairly certain once she gets off of her feet, she won’t be standing up again for a bit.
Peanut, the sly creature, darts over one of Kazu’s massive black boots to curl around her ankles. Peanut is a particularly small cat, all white with stripy orange markings, but her rage massively outclassed her size. She didn’t tend to like anyone but Viola and Kazu’s friend Mori when they were awake. Still, Peanut isn’t fussing, so Kazu fed her.
She shuffles herself into the warm kitchen, carefully avoiding tripping over the white and orange cat. The sensible thing to do would be to get a shower and some old clothes worn soft, maybe even wash her dark hair but-
Kazu slept late this morning, as he only does occasionally. Viola checked if he was sick, but he mostly seemed worn and tired and a little bruised, so she got ready quietly and left him be, with no kiss or boxed lunch, the only things that made yesterday bearable.
She hasn't seen him since then, hasn't spoken to him since yesterday. A text to check that she got to work safe, a couple of updates throughout the day, a truly masterful texted integration once he found out that she was even close to the gang fight. But none of that can hold a candle to Kazu himself.
And there he is, in the kitchen in front of the small stove. In all his ridiculous glory, looking edible and soft and all in a truly gigantic blue crew neck she's fairly certain she wore to bed two days ago. It still, to Viola's private amusement, looks a bit tight around his shoulders and arms. He’s taken up all the counter space with his chopping and their cheap rice cooker.
She should leave him be while he cooks. Should turn to their small, shared bathroom and clean off the day.
She doesn't.
Instead, Viola walks forward with the neat steady steps she learned in ballet and uses every time she works trying to hold people together on the worst days of their lives and wraps her arms tightly around his ridiculously tiny waist. She buries her face in the thick dark fabric covering his back and Kazu hums along to the song.
He doesn't jump, of course.
He's got to have ears like a bat given everything she's seen him do, and it's not like she was quiet. Peanut probably ruined any chance Viola had at surprising him when she came in. Still, it's nice to be trusted.
They stay like that for a long moment, Viola just feeling the shifts of Kazu’s muscles as he stirs and chops.
“Sit,” he says, and on any other man Viola would probably snap, at least a little, at being ordered around. But she's so tired, and Kazu, as much as he hates it, can't really help being a good man.
At least to her.
So, she does, collapsing into a chair like a puppet with cut strings. Her feet hurt all the more from the pressure removed, making them buzz back to life in pins and needles. Kazu sits a large bowl of chicken and eggs mixed together over rice in front of her with a spoon and a pointed look and then just sits down in the chair next to hers at their little square table.
He also brought a dish of water, a washcloth, and the first aid kit in the kitchen (less diversely stocked than the one in the bathroom). He pulls one of her feet into his lap as Viola starts quietly spooning eggs into her mouth, carefully untying the triple knotted laces and pulling her boot off.
The dark sock is as gross as the rest of her, but Kazu doesn't seem to mind. He simply pulls it off, still humming along to the song and wipes down her foot with the wet cloth.
It's warm, and Kazu’s hands can be so gentle, and Viola knows she's crying now. His dark eyes flash up to check on her, but he clearly puzzles out that stopping won't help and goes back to what he's doing, other than a grumble of “Eat, don't tell me you're not hungry.”
He keeps wiping her foot clean and then carefully bandages the bits that need it and massages the rest. He looks so focused, her Kazu. His hair is down and hiding parts of his face from Viola, but she can see the furrow between his brows and the slight scowl.
He often scowls, but most of the first months of their friendship were spent figuring out what each one actually meant. This was a focus scowl; the same one he wears putting together cabinets and cars and memorizing lists of songs and their release dates. It's a scowl that brings a buzzing sort of warmth to her, that she might be just as worth focusing on as the things that fascinate and intrigue Kazu.
By the time she's finished her bowl, Viola has cried herself out and Kazu has finished up with her other foot. Her boots lay discarded by the table, Peanut chewing on the laces, as he drops closer to her and opens up his arms.
She slumps into them and clings when Kazu stands. He holds her tightly, just a little too strong to be called gentle.
It's so much better than if he was.
Kazu carries her to the shower and washes her hair for her. It hangs around her face and slicks to her spine, and Kazu braids it while it's still wet because even when he's gentle with her, her proud monster of a man is a bit of a jerk.
Still, he washes her with his soap instead of her own and asks if she wants to get off before she goes to bed.
Viola has a feeling that going to bed part isn't negotiable, but when she shakes her head, Kazu just nods and lets her brush her teeth.
He carries her to bed (Viola doesn't protest, but she imagines the carrying is also nonnegotiable) and dresses her in his own clothes. At this point she's fairly certain this is Kazu’s constipated meathead way of saying he missed her too.
He doesn’t go to bed for another hour, so when he dumps the covers over the top of her but doesn't climb in himself, Viola isn't exactly surprised.
However, she can't bear for him to leave.
So, when Kazu turns, to presumably do some cleaning, Viola sits right up in bed.
“Stay,” she demands, with all the power she can command from her shared bed while only beginning to not look like roadkill.
Then, she melts and looks at her lap.
The “Please, Kazu. Stay? Just until I fall asleep?” is quieter but no less sincere.
He sighs, but says, “Fine, but don’t try to stay awake.”
Viola smiles at that, a smile so soft and so different from her usually wry grins and smirks. It’s sincerely meant, an offer of sincere thanks.
They lounge in bed, Viola’s head laying in his lap and his hand gliding over her wet hair. Peanut, having crept in after she and Kazu settled, tucks herself beside his thigh. The wind and the rain pick up outside, the drizzle starting to pound against the windows, a true storm brewing. She drifts off there, warm and content in the little safe haven they’ve built, safe from the storm.
#tri city monsters#kazu#kazu tri city monsters#fanfiction#kazu x oc#x oc#bodily fluids#mentioned child death
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( this chapter’s gif by @august-walker from this beautiful set ! )
✪ — VACANT MIRRORS ; B.B. | 4/?
summary: you formulate a plan, meet steve rogers, and bucky goes on a date.
pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader
tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn
word count: 6.8k, mother of pearl
a/n: this ended up being mostly a filler with a lot of romantic growth - i had to break this chapter up from the unce unce unce clubbing that coming up, so please enjoy!
( PREVIOUSLY | AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT )
MOSCOW, 1975.
In all the years that James Buchanan Barnes has had a heartbeat, he’d come to know the sounds of grief well.
War taught him a lot of things — that they were all just little boys playing with guns, and that no matter how many times you thought you’d be ready for the vomit-inducing pungency of violence, you never were. In the end, you’d do anything to save yourself; you’d crawl through the thick of death and debris a million times over if only to cling to the shredded tatters of your own humanity.
You would kill someone else’s son for the sake of your own mother.
War was disease that devoured every part of you — it was gunpowder snuff and carved flesh. That sickness — inky and desperate — had sunk deep into this heart during the war, and it crescendoed to the sounds of mothers clutching dead sons. The sounds that followed death were like a hollow opera. Waning and wailing.
In the raucous wake left by warborn grief, Bucky drowned everytime.
To the Winter Soldier, the operatic quality to the sounds of grief were as insignificant as a child’s rhyme.
He did not drown. No, he waded through the waves, comfortable in the cold and unphased by the stinging cut of loss. That was not something he could comprehend. After all, there were orders and there were targets, and everything in between was absolute.
He was the disease that devoured all.
He’s holding a gun to Andrei Kuznetzov’s head in a dining room with ornate trim — with silverware as delicate as scalpels that tinker against fine china. The carpets are red, the curtains are red, there’s blood on the table cloth. The guests continue to eat. Kuznetzov’s wife is screaming, red nails dug so deep into the dining chair’s arms it’s carving out the fabric. War dogs, like him, keep her rooted in her seat, and her tears find polished boots. She’s begging and bartering but the man with Kuznetzov’s life in his hands is not listening. He is eating his veal, bloodied meat dancing between his lips. He takes a sip of wine as his medal emblazoned chest glimmers in the light of crystalline chandaliers.
The spoils of war.
His smile is stained red.
There is no deal to be made.
The Winter Soldier pulls the trigger.
NOW.
His eyes are open.
Panic is the first emotion he feels, and it seizes him up quickly in its grasp. He doesn’t know this view, he doesn’t know where he is, not again, not again, not again —
Then:
��Good morning, sleeping beauty. Did you know you snore?”
The relief that the sound of your voice brings is immediate, and just like that he remembers. He’s laying on the bed. You’re sat up across from him at that small desk in the corner. He reaches as he rubs his face to thumb the edge of the pillowcase. He exhales tightly.
He’s fine. His name is James Buchanan Barnes. He is not longer the Winter Soldier. He’s in his Brooklyn apartment. He is fine.
When’s the last fucking time he’s slept in a bed?
He sits up, scratching his neck as he does. You lean back, half rotated in the desk. Before you is a mess of papers and his laptop — and on top of the keyboard sits his notebook. It’s open to the page where all he’d been able to figure out about Innessa was scrawled in his chicken scratch.
Bucky swings his legs over the edge of the bed and immediately his back complains.
“How long was I out?” he asks, voice hoarse with sleep. He moves to part the curtains. The room blooms with warm morning light.
You offer an apologetic smile into the vanilla sunshine. “Three hours. I wanted you to get some shut eye. You were starting to look a little overwhelmed last night—”
“You click too fast,” he waves, standing and immediately rolling his neck to the side. You watch as the man, before as peaceful as a sleeping pup, now regains his usual thinning veiled level of threat. Bucky is dangerous — it shows in the way he holds himself. He cracks his neck, rolls his shoulders, and groans. He exhales again, posture sagging a bit, “I couldn’t keep up.”
You’re standing now, socks padding against the hardwood as you eye his cowlick with a budding bloom of affection. With his notebook between your index and middle finger, you offer it out. You cling to your empty coffee cup in the other.
“I didn’t peek,” you say warmly, “Pinky promise.”
His laugh is more like a hot puff of air. Bucky manages a look that feels like an emotional dethaw.
“Thank you.”
You lead the way to the kitchen, stretching your own back as you go. You’d been up all night — this is your third trip out here for yet another cup of coffee. The pot has been on for too long, though, and you know the coffee sitting there is beyond bitter. You’re moving to dump it down the sink when Bucky grumbles.
“Don’t.”
“You want it?”
“No,” he mutters, reaching for a mug, “But I don’t want to waste it.”
“Wow,” you chirp, “The Great Depression just jumped out.”
“Yeah,” he snorts, yanking open the fridge to search for something to eat, “It does that.”
“Well, grandpa,” you hand him the steaming cup and set out to make another pot, “You’re also living on Depression Era rations — might I suggest some Dolly’s? Because I’m starving and I’ve been up all night and I think that means I get to decide where we get breakfast.”
Bucky’s look is soft — but you don’t see it. You’re too busy scooping sugar into your cup, too busy nudging him aside to grab the milk. He’s rooted there in the kitchen, watching you move about. You’re comfortable. There isn’t a trace of anxiousness in you, not in this moment, and he tries to remember what it looks like.
Your eyes find his and he clears his throat.
“Earth to Sergeant Barnes?”
“Don’t start,” he groans, albeit playfully, “It’s too early.”
��Oh, what? Too early for me to grill you on why you didn’t tell me that little laptop in there was on loan from the FBI? To one Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th?”
His face falls.
“Don’t worry,” you raise a hand quickly, leaning against the counter as you sip your coffee, “I figured that out before I did anything massively illegal.”
Bucky rubs his face as he takes a sip of his coffee — the bitterness is enough to slap him awake. He winces, swallows it back, and remembers the taste of instant coffee made in helmets on the line in Bastogne. He can smell snow, and the acrid sting of mortar smoke. Suddenly, he’s craving a cigarette.
That hasn’t happened in a while.
Bucky clears his throat. “Did you find anything?”
You frown slightly, lips pulled as you hide your inward disappointment — you push off from the counter and shake your head as you brush past him. Like a loyal dog, Bucky follows. Into the bedroom you go, and Bucky’s again surprised he managed to get any sleep at all in that bed. Maybe it was the comfort of having someone else there, or the genuine exhaustion that had finally choked him out after hours of trying to understand what the hell you were even doing on there.
You plop into the desk chair and snatch up a piece of paper littered with notes.
“I couldn’t do much of my usual snooping,” you explain gently as you gesture to the chromebook, “This thing might have been given to you in good faith, but they’re watching you pretty closely. So, I worked a little magic and ended up running a virtual machine. Gave me enough wiggle room to avoid the malware and keystroke trackers. Even still, I wanted to be careful, so I just did a little looking.”
“Looking?”
“I can’t dig deeper on Innessa, I know where to dig, but I can’t,” you frown, “Not on this laptop, and definitely not on my personal machines. I’ve got the GRC breathing down my neck, and the files I need to poke are very much off-limits.”
“So, what? We’re shit out of luck?”
“No, not entirely,” you stand up and motion to the paper in your hands; your tone is tight, “I know a few people who can help, but getting to them is going to be the hardest part.”
Bucky takes the paper, squinting at the writing as you settle on the edge of the bed next to him. You take a sip of your coffee and watch as his blue eyes dart across the notes; you point to the name scrawled across the top.
“There’s a club in lower Manhattan, but you’ve gotta know the right people to get in,” you mumble, scratching your cheek as a creeping sense of embarrassment bubbles up behind your words, “It’s in the basement of an old computer repair shop. It’s like a blackhat networking event, but with strippers.”
Bucky squints at the paper and reads the name. “The Glass Cannon?”
“Yeah,” you huff, crossing your arms tightly as you stand, “That’s the one.”
Bucky looks up from the paper, attention now rooted on the pacing you’ve begun to do across the room. Back and forth. You’re holding your coffee like a lifeline, gaze far away. That anxiousless way you’d been holding yourself before is gone. Now, he can see the tensing in your shoulders, in your fingers. You’re suddenly nervous.
Bucky stands. His voice is gentle.
“You alright?”
“Yeah,” you snap almost immediately, “Just, y’know. Worried. I spent a lot of time there when I was younger. Did stupid shit. And now I’m about to waltz in after six years like I haven’t put that part of my life behind me.”
“We don’t have to do this,” he says immediately, moving to stand closer and halt your pacing. The invasion of your space forces you to look at him. His fingers glimmering in the morning light. You follow the line of his figure up to his eyes. The emotion there makes your heart clench. You can’t pin it down, and it’s gone in an instant.
“It’s the only way we’re going to find Innessa.”
“You don’t need to put yourself in situations like this for me,” he says, stressing the for me part in both expression and tone. The depreciation makes you wince and you’re fast to shake your head.
“That’s what friends do, Bucky,” you stand your ground, but you know there’s more to your reasoning than that, “Plus, she’s a bad guy. And I know you said I technically wasn’t the sidekick, but—”
“You’re not the sidekick—”
“I know,” you huff, nudging him gently with your arm, “But, I wanna help. Do some good.”
“You do enough good,” he mutters, “You’re a good person.”
Your words fail you at that — and your mouth parts but nothing comes out. Bucky watches with an expression as solid as rock as you blink and look away. His hand, the one of flesh and bone, finds your wrist as you tighten your grip on your mug.
The touch, though far too tender for you to handle, feels like fire.
Like a slap in the face, you’re reminded of how handsome Bucky is.
You slap that thought back, trading volleys, and remain quiet.
His tone is stern. “I mean it.”
“Well,” you finally muster, tone dipping sardonically into a cruel peel of humor, “Just wait until you see me in my natural habitat. Maybe the tequila shots will make you second guess that.”
“I didn’t know we were going out drinking,” he chirps as he raises an eyebrow, “Am I going to need to get you a leash?”
“We’re gonna have to try and blend in as best we can. People are going to know me — if they try to pin me with the GRC or the feds, we aren’t going to get anything on Innessa. They probably won’t even let me in the building if they suspect something’s up, after all not everything that goes down in Glass Cannon is kosher.”
“This is already sounding like a bad idea,” Bucky mumbles as he crosses his arms, “I’m stating that for the record, by the way.”
“Well, I think standing around and working ourselves up about this is even worse of an idea,” you chirp back, moving towards the door to muscle on your shoes, “So I say we feed ourselves and don’t worry about this until Thursday night.”
“Thursday.”
You nod.
All of a sudden, Bucky’s eyes go wide.
“Today is Sunday.”
You freeze, hand on the doorframe. You shoot him a wide-eyed look at the sudden flare of panic that’s shot up through him. “Yea, Bucky, today is Sunday.”
“Shit.”
“What?” you nearly cry as he disappears into the bedroom once more. You hear his closet open, then a clatter as he grabs something like keys — you nearly run directly into his chest when he strides back into the kitchen. He’s shouldered on his usual leather jacket, and in his hands is another.
He’s got keys in his hand.
“C’mon.”
He shoves the jacket into your arms and you frown.
“What the hell?” you cry, doubling back to snag your phone and bag as Bucky moves to the door, “What is this?”
“Put it on,” he says, holding open the door for you as you follow him into the apartment hallway.
You raise a brow and stand there as he locks the door.
“Why?”
“Because,” Bucky mumbles, rubbing his face as he widens his strides to the stairwell across the hall; before you know it, you’re desperately trying to keep up as he bounces down the steps — light on his feet like the boxer he is — towards the lower level of the apartment complex, “We’re late.”
You groan, trying to shrug on the jacket that smells like Bucky as you follow — a smell you’d come to know as clean laundry and sandalwood. Must be something for his hair. He never wore cologne, that much was apparent. The jacket is big on you, especially on the shoulders. You were swimming in it, trying not to trip as he held the door open to the garage.
Suddenly, the air is cooler. Immediately you wonder how much his rent is if he had access to a ground level garage. Call it NYC instinct.
“Bucky,” you nearly whine, throwing your head back, “Where are we going?”
Before you get a reply, you run straight into his back. Bucky grunts, moving to grab both of your hands and push you to the front of him.
Sitting in the spot is a motorcycle.
It’s a jet black Harley.
Bucky is handing you the helmet on the back seat as your mouth moves in disbelief. “No way— no, I’m not getting on that thing. I’d rather sell my kidneys. Stop, stop — ow, Bucky — you haven’t even said where we’re going!”
He’s muscling the helmet onto your head and through the flash of the visor you can see a real smile, the sort born out of his never-ending amusement towards your fickle sense of humor. His fingers are nimble against your chin. He takes the time to strap it on, adjust it, and give it a gentle tug. Bucky taps the matte black helmet twice, then flicks the visor down.
“We’re going upstate.”
◦ ◦ ◦ ◦
It takes two hours to get to Elmwood Senior Living.
You spent the first forty-five minutes clinging to Bucky’s waist with your eyes closed — no fault of Bucky’s, really. It was different from riding in a car by miles, and you had your own qualms with driving. You couldn’t be in the passenger’s seat anymore. Not after the accident with Jaimie, when Mom disappeared. Being out of control made you itch; and it’s not until the fifty-minute mark that you ease up on the panic and remember who the man is that’s driving the bike.
You trust Bucky. You trust him with your life.
Once it’s open road, winding up towards the Northern part of the state, it gets easier.
Bucky can feel your grip around his waist loosen just a bit — and it’s enough reassurance that he stops looking back in the mirror every fifteen seconds. It’s enough permission to open up on the throttle, and the bike roars alive. Your immediate reaction is a gobsmacked yelp, the sort that’s pulled from a jolt of shock, but then comes the laugh.
Bucky’s own quiet chuckle rumbles against your chest. You hold on tighter, but this time with open palms against the thrum of his ribs.
Halfway through the trip, he pulls into a McDonald’s.
You drop your ass onto the parking lot’s curb as he leans against the bike and houses a burger. You laugh, eyeing him candidly as you take a large bite from your own lunch. Bucky is a mess with it — cursing quietly when he ends up getting ketchup on his jacket.
“Shit.”
“Jesus, Bucky,” you mutter, “Did you even taste that thing?”
“Barely,” he clears his throat and starts picking at his fries, “These things taste different now. First time I ever had McDonald’s was right before bootcamp.”
“How much was it? Five cents?” you snort, leaning back and dropping a fry into your mouth.
Bucky watches with a half-smirk. “Fifteen, but nice try.”
He spends the next five minutes on his hand with a wet nap, trying hard to get the grease out of the delicate plates along his palm. You watch, as you knock back the rest of your soda, as his eyes crinkle tightly in frustration. His mouth is pulled tightly into a fine line. For the second time today, you’re reminded of how handsome Bucky Barnes is — and how fucking stubborn he is, too.
“Want help?”
“No,” he mutters, trying to get a spot between his thumb and index finger, “I got it.”
“I have smaller fingers,” you sing-song, gathering up his trash and your trash and crossing the parking lot to the bin; upon returning, you waggle them in his face, “Good for hard to reach places.”
Bucky absolutely hates that can feel his blush hit the tips of his ears at the comment.
He’s glad you’re too preoccupied with his hand to notice. You’re watching, like you always do, with respectful awe. To you, this part of him is a bit like a treasure — you find it beautiful and intriguing and incredible. It’s clear in the way you watch the mechanisms turn and tighten that you aren’t frightened by it.
It unsettles Bucky every time.
Finally, once he’s finished under your watchful eyes, he leans to muscle that helmet back over your head. You groan, squinting tightly.
“C’mon,” he knocks your helmet with his knuckles, “We’re almost there.”
The rest of the ride is wide open space, farm land and mountainous peaks looming far ahead. It’s warm, and the sun is hot on your back. The wind is howling around you and it sends your jacket collar flapping against your neck. Your chin rests neatly on Bucky’s shoulder, trying to get a view of the road ahead.
Elmwood Senior Living is tucked into the back of a suburb.
The two of you weave through a neighborhood or two, dancing under the shade of age old maple trees. They cast long, scattered shadows across the pavement as kids play on their lawns. A dog barks somewhere in the distance. Over the hill, church bells ring. Sunday service has ended.
Bucky rolls into the parking lot, past the large sign with swirling lettering. Suddenly, things make more sense. Suddenly, you’re struck with a sinking feeling of grief. Nostalgia. Mourning. But, happiness.
There are folks sitting outside, basking in the sun, tethered to walkers.
Bucky’s wrists crank back weathered knuckles, and slowly the bike rumbles into an open spot. Extending his legs, Bucky balances the bike with ease. You take that as your cue to swing yourself off the back clumsily, hopping a bit. Bucky leans, kicks the stand down, and with significantly more grace than you, swings his leg over.
You’re shrugging his jacket off when he speaks.
“He’s going to be different than how you imagine him.”
You exhale slowly, draping the jacket over the bike’s seat. You peel the helmet off.
“I’ve sort of pieced that together.”
You can see the slight discomfort hanging in his posture. You reach and touch Bucky’s arm.
“Come on,” you nod to the entrance, covered by a shady overhang where someone is helping a family member out of their car, “We don’t wanna be late, huh?”
His eyes soften. Bucky nods.
You walk side-by-side into the lobby of Elmwood Senior Living and it’s like time slows down. It halts in a warm, sunshine colored still — full of chatter, full of humanity, full of wisdom. The room is framed by big windows, by plants, by a man in a U.S. Navy ball cap. He’s stationed by the door, watching the comings and goings. The main desk, where a young woman watches, sits in the corner. You follow Bucky with a content little look. He notices.
He stands a little closer at the main desk. The girl, who looks like she’s incredibly out of place with her blue hair and piercings, is younger than you thought. Highschool, maybe. She offers Bucky an excited smile.
“Took you long enough,” she chirps, moving to sort through a bin to her side with key fobs.
Your brows raise. You spy calculus homework on the desk.
Bucky snorts. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
He notices the same problem set you so, and purposely leans over the desk. Suddenly, you’re seeing flashes of a more boyish version of Bucky — one that reminds you of a man with siblings. Bucky taps the paper, jutting a chin to the girl as she tries to swat his attention away.
“How’d you do on that test?”
“I got a 96,” she chirps pridefully, laughing, “Thanks for the help, nerd.”
You’re watching the entire exchange with a smile, backing up a bit to toss a curious glance over your shoulder. There’s a dining room through open doors — and looks like lunch is just wrapping up. Folks are moving around, back to their rooms or upstairs where you can hear the beginnings of a seated aerobics class begin.
Bucky nudges you with his hand.
“Thanks, Sarah,” he says and waves the key she’d handed over.
The girl with the blue hair scoffs. “Say hi to grandpa for me, Bucket.”
You laugh out loud as Bucky quickly flips her off. She’s quick to do the same.
You follow him around the corner, grinning ear to ear. He spares you a sheepish look, then rolls his eyes.
“What was that?”
“She’s a good kid,” he offers, eyeing the key with the grey little fob attached, “Reminds me of my sister.”
Your face softens. “Sister?”
“Her name was Sarah, too,” he says quietly, boots landing softly on the blue carpet. He’s navigating the residential wing like he’s done it a million times. There are rooms with flowers outside, with holiday garb, with little photos and keepsakes. Each room holds a lifetime of personality — the sound of Jeopardy lulls along in the background.
You hum. Bucky sighs.
He meanders down a long hallway where a different door is — this one heavy and locked by the little keypad. Bucky raises the key fob to the device and the door buzzes.
This side of Elmwood is quieter.
Down the hall, Timmy Dorsey and Sinatra play quietly over someone’s record player.
There aren’t as many folks in the hall in this wing, but doors are open and nurses flit about. Around the corner, there’s a loud conversation going on about lunch — and you watch as Bucky weaves towards the nursing station. It’s a room overlooking the common area with windows. Inside are three women.
One of them immediately jumps when she sees Bucky.
“Oh, good! I was meaning to talk to you—”
“Everything alright?”
“About the same,” she breathes as she stands, moving to grab at a Bucky’s arm with a sense of motherliness that makes you smile, “But, meals have been a bit difficult lately.”
“No kidding,” he mutters, rubbing his chin, “He just doesn’t wanna eat?”
“He thinks Peggy is coming home,” the woman whispers with a pained smile as she begins to lead you both down the hall, “He thinks your grandmother made dinner for him.”
“Right,” Bucky nods, “Doesn’t wanna ruin his appetite.”
“Exactly.”
You take note of the conversation, muddling through your own confusion. You’re quiet, though. This isn’t really your conversation to have. Bucky seems to be relaxed more — even humming slightly to a song that plays across the hall from the room the nurse is knocking on.
“Mr. Carter?” she calls gently, “Your grandson is here to see you, and his…”
She looks expectantly at you. You bawk.
“Friend.”
“Right,” she smiles and pushes open the door.
It’s like a little slice of home.
Sofas, chairs, photos on the walls. There’s a record player in the corner, a television, a coffee table stacked with books on the second world war. There’s a dresser covered in baubles and warm light coming in from the window overlooking the street. It reminds you of your grandparents’ sitting room — everything looks so lived in, so comfortable, so alive.
And then, below the light of the window, is a hospital bed.
In it is Steve Rogers.
Not the one you know — no, this one has lived a full life. This Steve Rogers has fallen in love, owned a home, settled down. This Steve Rogers has years of wisdom settled into his face, years of well-fought fights in his joints. His blonde hair has gone shock white, but his smile is all the same.
“Bucky.”
The way Steve says his name is like the man beside you holds the world.
To Bucky, he can hear a new weakness. A new exhaustion.
“Hi, punk.”
The nurse offers a little wave to you as Bucky ventures into the room, stripping his jacket off and moving to scope out the minifridge in the small kitchenette beside the bathroom. She leaves the door open, and you smile to her softly. Bucky rummages, poking his head up.
“You want a drink, Steve?” he asks, tone almost like he’s feeling out the lucidity of the man across the room, “There’s some of that lemonade I brought last week in here.”
“Sounds good,” he says slowly, “Please.”
You feel out of place — not unwelcome, but… it’s clear that Bucky has come and gone from here a thousand times now. He knows to get the glasses out, to get a straw, to turn down the record player on his way over. Doris Day’s voice lowers to a soft croon. You watch with heavy eyes.
“I brought someone, Steve,” Bucky says, “She’s a big fan.”
“Oh?” Steve asks with a slow look to the corner where you’re standing, “That musta broke your heart.”
Bucky snorts as he moves to swing the hospital bed’s tray over Steve’s lap. He places the lemonade down, then the other glass on the nightstand. He’s quick to move the armchair closer to the nightstand, and gestures for you to come over. Bucky’s hands guide you by the shoulders as he plops you into the chair.
“She’s one of the good ones,” Bucky says, “Reminds me of you.”
“No kidding,” Steve says slowly, offering a hand that shakes, “Steve Rogers. It’s a pleasure.”
You exchange your name with a shy look, shaking that hand with reverence and gentility. “It’s an honor, Mr. Rogers.”
“Please,” he mumbles, moving to slowly take a sip of his lemonade, “Steve is fine.”
Bucky moves to take up a post on the opposite side of Steve, in the sun. “You’re losin’ weight, y’know.”
That earns him a wave of the hand.
Bucky leans back and sips his lemonade. He waggles a finger and you watch the two begin to go back and forth.
“No, no,” he swallows, “No, you don’t get t’ shrug me off—”
“M’fine, Buck,” a sigh, “Really.”
“Mhm,” he narrows his eyes, “You’re startin’ to look like the Steve I knew before the serum.”
You lean back, hiding a quiet smirk behind your hand.
“I was wondering when you were gonna show up an’ pester me,” he says with a tired look, “The only peace I get around here is when Peggy comes home.”
Your eyes jump to Bucky. He’s watching you.
“Peggy?” you ask gently, “Is that your wife?”
A proud smile washes over his face. “Still knocks me for a loop, too.”
“Steve,” Bucky’s voice is gentle, “Peggy won’t be coming around for a while. Remember?”
There’s a look that flashes across Steve’s face, then. A mixture of sadness, of confusion, of panic. It’s clouded with a furrow of his brow, hidden by a tilt of the head. He looks at Bucky, mouth pulled in a fine line.
When he finally speaks, his voice is sad.
“That’s right. I forgot.”
“S’alright,” Bucky taps his head, maintaining an air of nonchalance, “That’s why you got me.”
“And why you’ve got her, no doubt,” he turns to you with a winning smile and offers his hand again, “Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you.”
You take it, you shake it, and you introduce yourself once more. Your smile is patient and understanding. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Steve.”
Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. Steve smiles, tossing Bucky a look that borders on mischievous.
He sips his lemonade and clears his throat. “How is Sam?”
“You ask every time,” Bucky mutters, “And every time I have the same answer.”
“Sam?” you ask slowly.
“Wilson,” Bucky finishes, “Bird man.”
“You mean Falcon,” you correct, shooting him a stern look, “The Falcon. Are you ghosting The Falcon?”
“I don’t know what that even means, so maybe,” Bucky leans back and crosses his legs, “I’ve been busy.”
You roll your eyes. Steve saw. He smiles.
“I’m gettin’ why he keeps you around.”
Your face is smacked with a look of pure joy.
“C’mon on now,” Bucky cries, nearly indignantly, “No flirting—”
“M’ not flirting—”
“I know that look, Steve—”
Steve is laughing.
Bucky has a stern look in his eye. “You always do this—”
“I’m not doin’ a damn thing—”
“And you better keep it that way, old man,” Bucky shirks, voice splintering into a laugh in a way that you’ve never heard before, “I swear, this is how it always goes.”
“Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, huh, Buck?” you ask gently, leaning your cheek into your hand.
Steve laughs loudly at that.
Bucky spares you a smile — the sort that’s drenched in good humor and sunlight. It makes your lungs flutter, and you ignore the buzz in your fingers at the sight. You hide your laugh into your cup of lemonade, resigning to be a quiet counterpart in the conversation.
The two of them go on to chat about small things, then chat about old things. From the Commandos, to HYDRA, to amends, to therapy, to Peggy, to the itch the starch of their old dress uniforms used to bring. It takes a bit, a few redirections on the way, but it’s clear by the end why Steve Rogers is in Elmwood’s memory unit.
It makes your heart ache.
And if a super soldier is bed-ridden…
The two of you say goodbye around three in the afternoon after Bucky helps Steve shave.
The walk back to the bike is quiet.
Bucky speaks first.
“He’s dying.”
You chew your lip, eyes on the pavement. You match his slow stride, bumping your elbow with his as you walk. It’s still warm, and the clouds hang high in the sky. When you look up, Bucky’s watching you. You sigh.
“I’m sorry,” you finally muster, “I am.”
“Don’t be,” he says, grabbing the jacket from the seat and holding it up, “He’s lived a long life.”
You let Bucky hold out the arm for you, and you press your hand through the sleeve. He helps the other side on, and you zip it up to your chin. When you turn around to face him, there are tears in your eyes.
They snuck up on you. You hadn’t realized it until Bucky’s face fell, until the first one fell along the weathered leather of the jacket. You blink, raising your brows as you swipe them away, and offer an apologetic look.
“I’m happy,” you say, “Y’know. He has you. But, he’s a man out of time. Even now. That makes me sad.”
Bucky’s quiet for a while. He’s leaned up against the bike as you turn and watch Elmwood from the back of the parking lot. There’s a big part of you that feels heavy with guilt — and though Steve was in good spirits when you left, you can’t help but ache to provide him with more company. It’s clear that seeing Bucky means a lot to him, and that in turn it means a lot to the man beside you.
“Come on,” Bucky says then, “Let’s go home.”
You nod, let him muscle that helmet onto your head one more time, and hold on a little tighter back to the city.
◦ ◦ ◦ ◦
You don’t see Bucky until Tuesday.
In all honesty, it feels weird to not hear from him for two days. At the very least, you expected some sort of phone call — but you remind yourself that you’ve been okay alone for a long time. There’s no need to throw all your work on being comfortable by yourself out the window for Bucky Barnes.
It’s tempting, though. God, it’s really tempting.
You hate the ache in your chest when you finally see him lumbering towards the cafe counter before your appointments. You hate this new feeling — so you shove it down and ignore the way his fingers brush yours when he hands you your latte.
He is ignoring it, too. He’s been ignoring it.
No use in thinking about it though.
“You got plans later?” you ask him in the elevator after your appointment, tilting your head, “Apparently there’s a Lord of the Rings marathon tonight on FX.”
Bucky stiffens — and immediately he can feel the hot sting of anxious regret flood his cheeks. He clears his throat, tucks his hands in his pockets, and toes the ground. You watch with a confused look. Then he speaks tightly.
“...I’ve got a date.”
You could have caught flies the way your jaw fell open.
“Oh. Oh!”
You blink, readjust your expression, and swallow down a sharp stab of rejection.
Bucky clears his throat. “It’s… I wasn’t going to but, Dr. Raynor—”
“No, no,” you wave your hands and shake your head and try to seem genuine, “No, I’m happy for you. Is this one of those Christian Minglers?”
Bucky groans. “Shut up.”
“Okay,” you say, “Okay! Just, uh, be careful. Y’know? And call if you need anything.”
The elevator doors open, and Bucky walks side by side with you through the well-lit lobby. He holds the door open for you, and you pass through with a pained look at the ground. He lingers, though, rubbing the back of his neck as you wait for him to say what’s on his mind.
“Thursday,” he says, “I’ll stop by.”
“Yea,” you say, waving your hand, “Whenever.”
But, that doesn’t end up happening.
No, Bucky Barnes shows up at your apartment doorstep at 10pm.
He’s clutching takeout and a six pack of beer and wearing a horrified expression that screams of guilt and exhaustion. No, Bucky buzzes the door to your apartment and basically croaks that he’s here — he’s asking if the marathon is still on while you buzz him up.
“Third floor,” you say into the buzzer with a smile, “Come on in, old man.”
When you open the door, you have to laugh — because his hair is a mess and there’s still a trace of lipstick on the corner of his mouth. Whereas jealousy threatens to flare, his incredibly regretful expression tamps it down. You cock a hip, eye him up and down, and jut your chin out.
“Get laid?”
Bucky rolls his eyes so hard you’re surprised he didn’t break something.
He pushes past you, moving to drop the beer on the counter and place the takeout gently down by the basket of fruit.
“I’m here for the cat,” he grumbles, “Not your witty commentary, sweetheart.”
You’re moving quietly to the sink and gathering a paper towel with a smirk as Bucky looks around, admiring the decor and aliveness of your apartment. When you turn around, he’s already pried a beer from the pack and popped the top off with his vibranium palm.
He winces when you reach up to swipe the coral lipstick from the corner of his mouth.
Then Bucky settles, letting you clean off the mess.
“Mhm,” you hum, “Right. Was it at least fun?”
“She had fun,” he mutters into his first sip, “It was a lotta tongue for my first night out in nearly a century, though.”
You wince. He nods with a sardonic smile that tells you everything about how the date went down — and you’re relieved. “So, I take it you're not calling her in the morning?”
“No,” he shakes his head, “Nope. No, and I’ve decided no more dates. That was enough for me.”
You wince and pluck a beer from the pack. Wordlessly, Bucky gestures for you to hand it over. In one smooth motion, he twists the cap off with his hand.
“That bad?” you ask, eyeing him critically.
“I decided halfway through,” he says as he moves to take the takeout from its bag, “I’d rather be watching Lord of the Rings with you.”
That stops you into silence. It’s like someone’s taken your own words and gagged you with them — and you’re left floundering for breath you never even realize you lost. You know he means it. You know it because he won’t look at you, because that sort of confession isn’t easy for people like you two. So you take those words and you glue them in a lonely locket and keep them close to your heart.
Poke’s entrance saves you a mouthful of broken words — he comes in, trots up to Bucky, and hollers.
Bucky laughs.
“Nice to meet you, too,” he mutters, eyeing the cat that’s eagerly rubbing himself along Bucky’s leg.
You wipe your face, sip your beer, and move to the pantry across from the kitchen island. You come back out with a bag of salmon treats — the good ones — and offer Bucky the bag. He takes it, eyes still on the calico, and crinkles it a little.
You lean against the counter and watch Bucky kneel.
“If you keep it up long enough he might even let you hold him.”
He lights up at that.
You laugh.
You move to grab plates and forks and knives and groan when you open up the first box to see Pad Thai — you make a mental note to properly thank Bucky for this. You meager dinner of reheated pasta really hadn’t hit the spot. This will, though. You can tell from the smell alone.
By your knees, Poke chirps.
“He’s cute.”
“I never took you for a cat guy.”
Bucky snorts.
You make a plate and flick his head as you walk by. “You’re missing the start of The Two Towers.”
“I’m going to be confused, aren’t I?” he asks as he stands and begins making himself a plate. He watches as you settle onto the couch and sip your beer, “I was too busy being turned into a cyborg to read the books.”
You laugh out loud. It shocks you.
“Was that a joke? Did Bucky Barnes just make a joke?”
He’s smirking. He rounds the counter with his food and settles next to you. Poke is following him, eager to curl up next to his new friend.
“I can be funny.”
“Funny lookin’.”
He elbows you on purpose. You snort into your beer.
There’s a comfortable moment of quiet between you, and you clear your throat.
“Thanks.”
“Yeah,” he says slowly, “No problem.”
More quiet, and he’s still watching you. Then, he asks what’s been on his mind for the last three days.
“You got a plan for Thursday?”
“I’ve got anxiety, Buck,” you exhale, swigging your beer and turning the television up, “I always have a plan.”
#vacant mirrors#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x you#winter soldier imagine#tfatws imagine#marvel imagine#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes/reader#bucky/reader
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Wounded Feelings — Sneak Peek
Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: When a hunt goes south and you put your life on the line to save Sam’s, some feelings arise from the older Winchester when your very own fate is threatened.
Requested by Anonymous
Warnings: angst, injury, mentions of guns/being shot, blood, passing out, fluff, kissing
It was cold, it was wet. The trees provided more cover than you’d have without, but the icy droplets of rain still wove themselves between every gap to pelt down upon the both of you. It did absolutely nothing in your efforts to salvage any sort of warmth you’ve got left, not as you cower over Sam with your palms pressed over his shoulder.
It was just a graze to your side, that’s what you told yourself. Just a graze, that was way better than going clean through your abdomen. Just a graze.
You were bleeding, you knew that very well each and every time you risked a glance down at your side and saw splotches of crimson staining through the fabric of your dirtied clothing. Each spared look, each one, it was worse than the last. But you pushed it away, the burning sensation that was rapidly doing little to keep you warm anymore, not even as your heart pumped faster than ever. You were cold, but you chalked it up to the inclement weather. And while that may have been a factor, there was yet another that you refused to play into.
And that heat remained absent as Dean found the both of you, boots sloshing with heavy footfalls as he ran through mud and twigs and leaves. He heard the gunshots, he found the very gun of his that’d been the source. He heard it and thought the worst.
He was more than relieved to find the two of you as alive as he’d hoped, but that feeling didn’t last very long once his gaze settled on the sight before him. Sam had been pierced right through the shoulder, something excruciating but survivable, something he’s experienced once before. But you, you were different.
It may have been just a graze, may have been worse. Well, it was definitely worse. But all Dean could see was the panic written clear across your face, the face that he looked for no matter where he went. The fact that he loved more than he’d wanted to admit. The face that was drained of its liveliness as you looked back and forth between him and his brother.
“What the hell happened?” Dean asks, a mix of anger and fear in his words.
He can’t for the life of him decide who to focus on, couldn’t possibly fathom the idea that the two people that mattered to him most have gone and gotten hurt more than just a scratch on a hunt. On his watch.
Yes, he had Bobby. He had his hunter friends he saw once in a blue moon. But he knew he couldn’t bear the double loss in his life. It would tear him to shreds and he knew he couldn’t piece himself back together, he was already hanging on by a thread and this would be a final push over the edge to leave him a mere shell of who he was.
He put two and two together after the words had already left his mouth, didn’t need hear what happened, didn’t care about the details. Those weren’t important anymore because the damn shifter that caused every bit of this damage was dead and gone. He didn’t need to hear you say it, or Sam, because it’d only twist the knife more and more.
“Sweetheart, I got it,” Dean urges, gentle in the way he tries to move you away from Sam.
But you stayed put, with that stubborn streak you’ve got in you, you stayed put with a furrow between your brows.
“No, it’s fine, let me help,” you say, legs trembling as you kneel at Sam’s side.
You felt a crushing guilt, a heavy weight on you that you needed to push through your own pain. That you needed to push through it because it wasn’t as important as it was to keep Sam okay. You pushed your own injury to the wayside, the one that was much worse than you let yourself believe. you had yourself thinking it was the least you could do.
You felt terrible, you felt beyond worse for wear. Your heart was pounding nearly out of your chest yet you felt entirely too weak all the same. You were cold and you were trembling, and you knew the cause of your shakiness was not from the less than ideal weather. You knew your dizziness was not just from the pace of your breathing. It wasn’t good, wasn’t going to get any better and you knew that.
“Y/n, I said I got it,” he pleaded, concerned yet stern with you all the same as he brushed your hair behind your ear, thumb swiping over your skin.
You swallowed thickly as you looked at him, momentarily paralyzed as you let his gaze wash over you. A million and one emotions pooled in his eyes, increasing their intensity by the second and you could practically feel what he felt. Dean Winchester may have been sub par at being able to express his emotions in a way other than anger, other than harshness, but he felt them so very deeply that it nearly drove him nuts.
You brought yourself back though. Brought yourself back to the nausea swirling around in your stomach, to the pound of your heart, weak but fast all the same. To the way you were freezing beyond belief but were still managing to be clammy with sweat. And to the very way you felt more lightheaded than you cared to admit, more than you let yourself recognize.
It was bad, worse than you let on and worse than you would ever tell Dean.
“No, it’s my fault,” you say, pulling from Dean’s hand as you swallow down your nausea.
It wasn’t good, not at all good.
To be continued…
Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @agalliasi @campingmonkey @deandaydreaming @lanea-1 @akshi8278 @kidd3ath @awkward-and-indecisive @ajreturnstocringeyaccount @deanswaywardgirl @happyt0exist @malindacath @nyotamalfoy @sparkyluz @drownthewitch
#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester angst#dean winchester oneshot#dean winchester x you#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester imagine
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/rp
I think Foolish's story is an interesting one. Because you realize he started out canonically immortal and with powers that controlled the sea and weather. Not a god but more like a demigod (he could never access creative mode). We know he's had a bad backstory and was once known as the totem of death. Until assumingly he saw how much damage and hurt his abilities caused and decided to focus on making things rather than destroying them. (This was shown on Quackity's biggest lore stream yet). In this scene we watch as a town burns while listening to people scream and cry in agony. We cut to Foolish riding away from the scene on a horse. He stops and looks at the chaos.
Its not confirmed but through context we can assume that Foolish was offered a job to kill these people, and he took it because it was easy money. When Foolish steps away to look at what he caused he realizes how much despair he inflicted, and he put money he probably didn't even need over people's lives. It was Foolish's backstory to why he changed his ways.
Also Eret was his possible partner in crime way back when (which means Eret in canon is much older than people think). Yet Eret doesn't remember his past and only recalls his time he spent when he joined the dream smp. Through Foolish's words we learn that Eret was much more chaotic than Foolish was in the past. They defeated a group called the wither cult and I really want to know what the hell that is because that was way too interesting to leave it at that. They also went to the mountains to fight off trolls. So on and so forth. I hope they get back together to do lore because their dynamic is an interesting one.
Anyway, after Foolish died at the banquet and wakes up, he struggles to understand how he died. The egg invades his mind and talks about how it's much more older and stronger than Foolish. Foolish goes to the holy land to get rid of it. When he bathes in the holy water the voice of the egg dies, but not without promising it will be back.
After this point Foolish struggles to accept the loss of his powers. He went from an immortal demigod to a fragile mortal like everyone else. He's rightfully mad when he learns that Quackity purposely didn't save him. Knowing that he could have avoided loosing his godlyhood. But when introduced with the offer to join Quackity's country he's baffled. But over time he think about the offer and joins. When Foolish joined Quackity it was acceptance that things have changed, and to move on to new beginings. Despite being angry he reminds himself of why he changed his ways. He could never kill Quackity as that would go against his moral compass, and in his opinon would be moving backwards. So he decides to move forwards.
With his new loss of power however, he becomes power hungry. Unlike his past self where he was power hungry while he had powers (Like DreamXD is now) but its more of a need to get back the power he once had. When he learns the existence of DreamXD and his past of giving things to people, he's automatically intrigued. He plays games and does bets with DreamXD every chance he gets. This leads up to when he tries bribing DreamXD to give him powers if he builds a statue of him. (Foolish was going to do it anyway since he promised he would a while ago. But he was looking for a benefit). DreamXD made it clear that it was a maybe, depending on how well he did. Through their encounters we see a lot more of DreamXD's true colours. But this is about Foolish so we'll focus more on him. Foolish is very careful when he's with DreamXD, as he learned that the god of the server is very easy to get mad. But also easy to satisfy if you strock his ego. Whenever DreamXD leaves Foolish plans the god's demise. Craving to be the most powerful on the seever.
Foolish puts up with DreamXD because he wants to trick him into giving more powers.
The reason I love Foolish's story so much is becsuse it feels realistic. From destructive and power hungry totem of death to an immortal who seeks change. Than to someone who was stripped of their powers and now craves it more than before. I'm excited to see how Foolish's story unfolds, and in my opinon its far too underrated.
Because this feels like a villain to peaceful citizen and back to villain kind of ordeal.
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Beautiful Hell
Inspired by: Beautiful Hell by ADNA
Pairing: Bucky Barnes (tfatws) x Reader (experiment/mutant!Reader) Rating: 18+, Minors DNI Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk. Summary: Your past shows up in an unexpected way thanks to Bucky Barnes. You just wanted to be... normal, not caught up in the life of a hero or worse, and yet you’re drawn to him, addicted to him even. You thought that part of your life was over, but your relationship opens up a whole new chapter that you’re not sure you’re ready for. a/n: Unbeta’d, any mistakes are my own and please forgive me. I have not written anything that wasn’t work related in about three years, so I’m a little rusty. This is just a dip of my toe back into the water. I’d like to continue this if there is any interest! Thanks for reading!
There’s very little that makes you upset these days. You have a great job, a cozy apartment, and wonderful friends. It’s taken a long time for you to find stability and even longer for you to accept that it was okay to have it. Most of that struggle was on your own, but you eventually found others like you that were dealing with the same inner turmoil and you’ve grown.
The group still meets twice a month, but now you run it. You see the same pain and anger in the eyes of strangers that you once held, you’ve been in their shoes and you want to help start their journey of healing and self discovery. You would never turn someone away who wanted help, who sought out the chance to better themselves, but six feet of muscle and adamantium shuffles into the recreation room of the local Boy’s and Girl’s Club, and you bend the already folded aluminum chair in half.
The squeak of the metal catches his attention and his brow knits together. His eyes dance between your face, the chair, and back again. “Cheap material,” you say weakly with a lift of your shoulders. You watch as he puckers his lips in thought and his hands are shoved into his jacket.
One of your regulars, Sarah, takes the chair from you and tries to right it once more, but finds it more difficult than you played it up to be. “Set up the rest, I’ve got this,” you tell her, happy to tear your attention away from the man. You reset the bars of the chair and unfold it, placing it on the floor to see if it will act as it should. It’s a little wonky, the bend leans it too far back, but it will hold you - it’s a chair.
You sit among the circle and begin. People sip their coffee and share their stories for the week. The new people introduce themselves, including him, but everyone already knows his name. He didn’t share this time, but you could tell he wanted to from the way his jaw clenched and the uncomfortable shifts in his sheet. You were like that once, you know just how he feels.
Two hours pass and the crowd slowly trickles out. You start the clean up, the putting away of the chairs. You move around the room and do your best to ignore his eyes burning into you - into your soul. “You could at least help clean,” you tell him without looking up from the sink against the far wall where you now stand. “Chairs still need to be put away.”
It takes a few beats, but you hear his heavy footsteps fall behind you and the eventual scrap of metal as the chairs are being folded. There’s a steady rhythm to his method, a clink of his metal arm against the chair, the screech as the chair is closed and his footfalls to the corner to put it away.
You finish your last coffee pot, drying your hands and turn to see the wonky chair in his hold. “Cheap material,” he repeats, looking down at it before he bends it back and forth. You see him trying to mold it back into better shape than you had earlier as your face grows hotter by the second. When he deems it “good enough,” he brings it over to join the others. “Who are you?”
“No one,” you reply instantly.
His head snaps around, blue eyes burning, “You’re a horrible liar.”
“Not true,” you counter, “I’ve lied to myself for years.”
He turns to you fully and crosses his arms over his broad chest. He doesn’t find your attempt at what he thinks is a joke funny. “Who are you,” he asks again, his voice becoming clipped and impatient.
You tell him your name, your full name but it does not ring any bells to him. It wouldn’t, not in a way he would realize. “You saved someone years ago, not as… you, but as,” you pause and wave the towel you used to dry your hands, “you know.” You try your best to ignore how his body tenses up and you continue, “You killed his wife and his unborn son. You changed him. Changed everything, really. Somehow, I got caught up in it all.”
His hardened stare quickly shifts into curiosity and you force yourself to look away before you crash into the stormy blue. “They pumped us full of all sorts of stuff. A lot of us didn’t make it. I can still hear the screams if I try.” You grind your teeth to make yourself stop falling into that abyss. “But my dad raised me by himself, he taught me how to survive, how to be strong. He always told me: Girl, if you’re gonna go down, go down swingin’. And I forced myself to keep going, no matter what they did, I wasn’t going to let those assholes get the best of me.”
The towel was back in both of your hands now, pulled and stretched as you tried not to think about the pain and the loneliness that followed. “But eventually I was freed, just like you freed that other guy. I got a chance to be him now… but I didn’t take it.” The terry cloth ripped in half and your arms fell by your sides.
You dared to look up at the man and you inwardly swore. His face was so painfully beautiful, full lips were in a pout and his eyes twinkled blue in their sadness, in their empathy. “They wanted us to be something and I wasn’t going to let someone else define me. I ran for years, scared and alone. I had to change my life over and over because I didn’t want them to find me, then I realized I was actually doing what they wanted… I was being someone I’m not.”
You crossed the room to the trash can nearby and not too far behind he followed. The two of you began to toss half-eaten pastries and empty disposable coffee cups. “So, I settled down here, started to go by my real name and took any threat that came my way.” You watched him sniff at an uneaten danish, “Cherry, I think.” His shoulder lifts in a ‘what-the-hell’ kind of way and he takes a bite. “It took about two decades for them to stop,” you finish, “and I was able to finally start to live my life.”
He silently offers half of the danish to you, which you decline. “And when the world went to hell in a hand-basket, you what, sat here and lived your life?” The blow was meant to sting and it did. He didn’t know if you were gone in The Blip but from your recoil, he got his answer. “I don’t know what they did to you, but you obviously have the ability to help people, you should use it.”
“I do,” you reply, offended. “This,” you wave your hands around for the second that evening, “helps people. Just because I don’t strap on leather and beat up bad guys doesn’t mean I don’t make a difference.”
Bucky stills completely, even his breathing, and he looks down into the trash can he has been pushing around for you. It looks as though he wants to toss himself in it. “You’re right,” he says with a heavy exhale, “that wasn’t fair of me. It’s just… the world is running low on heroes, they’re now relying on a guy in a bird suit.”
“I thought that guy was your friend,” you ask with a tilt of your head.
When the corner of his mouth tips up into a boyish smile, you mirror it with a toothy grin because of how infectious it is. “Yeah,” he nods, “I guess he is. But I just hate being the only muscle.”
“You’re plenty enough for this hemisphere,” you laugh and reach out to pat his shoulder, when you feel the muscle packed there, you whistle through your teeth, “and maybe the other one, too.”
He laughs and rolls the shoulder you tapped, tossing off your hand playfully. “Yeah, well it wouldn’t hurt to have more because getting hurt hurts.” You two exchange smiles and finish trash detail. He ties up the full bag and prepares to bring it out while you work on putting a new one in the can.
You lead him out back to the dumpsters and he tosses the bag in after you open the heavy metal lid. When it falls closed again with a loud, ringing bang, you pull out a pack of sanitizing wipes and offer him one which he gladly accepts. “This might not be the right time,” he begins, eyes drawn to the large, smelly trash bin next to the pair of you, “but would you like to have dinner with me sometime?”
“Who knew you were so romantic, Sergeant Barnes,” you tease to hide your fluttering heartbeat that he can undoubtedly hear. Under the pale yellow beam of the streetlights you can see the flush forming on his face that mirrors your own. “I’m free tomorrow around seven.”
Bucky straightens to his full height and his eyes sparkle brightly when that boyish curl makes its way back to his lips. “Then it’s a date,” he nods as you both pull out your phones to exchange numbers and you give him your address.
“Don’t be late,” you warn him, tone playfully serious, “I get angry if I don’t eat before eight. Bad things happen if I don’t eat.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he nods with a low rumbling chuckle, “I don’t plan to disappoint you.”
Your face splits into a smile and you lead your way back in, “See you tomorrow, Sergeant.”
“Tomorrow,” he says, his eyes trained on your every move. “And it can’t come soon enough,” he adds under his breath.
x
Your day goes by in a blur. Work is stressful but rewarding. Even though you love your job, your mind was not completely on it. Just past noon you received a text: Just seeing if this works. I’m looking forward to tonight. Have a good day. BB
It is unclear if he does not really know how texts work or if it is his excuse to send you one, but either way it makes you giddier than a schoolgirl. You reread it several times, answer a few work related calls and emails before you finally answer back: It works! I’m also looking forward to tonight. My day was good, but your text made it better. Hope yours is fantastic! xx
You are hesitant to hit send, but if you are going to shoot your shot, then you might as well go all in. Your phone doesn’t even go to sleep before you get another text in return: I’m about to see the prettiest gal in town, my day will be more than fantastic. How do you feel about sushi and bowling? BB
Of all of the things to do, especially together, you would not think of Bucky Barnes to pick that as your first night out together, but you had a weakness for sushi and your competitive side could never say no to a game or two: I haven’t been bowling in years, but I’m sure I can teach you a few things. xx
Oh, sweetheart, you’ll be learning a thing or two before the night is over. BB
You aren’t sure if you guys are talking about bowling anymore and that thought lights a fire in your belly. With a shaky breath you send your last reply: I’ll be happy to learn anything as long as I get to call you Professor Barnes and I can stay after class for extra credit. ;) xx
It isn’t until two hours after your lunch that you get your last reply from him: Looking up that reference sent me to the part of the internet that I’m still not used to, but I’m glad I did. You don’t happen to have a skirt and some of those socks that go up to your knees, do you? Don’t answer that, I won’t be able to make it through dinner. See you at 7. BB
You did happen to have just what he asked for and it was tempting to wear it, but you tucked the idea into your pocket for another time. Instead, you picked something more appropriate for bowling, a pair of navy skinny fit cotton dress pants with enough stretch to not rip when you bent over to toss a ball, a curve hugging camisole that was draped by a soft, cream colored cashmere sweater.
After messing with your hair for an hour, you settled for a messy bun and just finished your makeup when your doorbell rang. You call out to him to “hold on” as you shuffle through your apartment, trying to wriggle into your loafers on the way to open the door. “Sorry. Sorry, sorry,” you apologize as you pull open the door.
He’s standing in the doorway dressed in a canvas jacket over a plain black shirt, dark jeans over his long, thick legs and his normal boots top it off. “You look gorgeous,” he says, forcing you away from your lingering gaze as it continues to travel up and down his body like he’s the one for dinner. “These are for you,” he presents a bouquet of flowers with an unsure smile. “They’re beautiful,” you say wistfully, taking the flowers and stepping aside to let him in. “Thank you.” He nods and stands near the door as you finish putting on your shoes. “Let me put these in water and we can go.” “Take your time,” he says and trains his eyes on you. They follow you through the apartment, to the kitchen as you look through your cabinets for a vase. When you bend over, his head tilts ever so slightly which you can see out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn to try and catch him, he just smiles innocently. “Need any help?”
“I’ll manage,” you laugh and eventually find a vase. The flowers are arranged not so elegantly into the glass, but you add water and place them in the center of your kitchen island. “Now, I’m starving and getting hangry.”
“Hangry,” he repeats. “That doesn’t sound good. I guess I should feed you before that happens.” He holds out an arm and like a magnet you are drawn to him and latch to it, maybe it’s because of the metal. Nevertheless, you walk arm and arm to the sushi hole-in-the-wall two blocks away, eating in a small booth in the corner to hide away from prying eyes.
You learn about Bucky Barnes for the first time. Like everyone else, you hear things from the news, from the internet, you try to shift through the lies and mess. But here you’re learning what he likes, what he’s learned, what he wants to learn. He doesn’t give his past up as freely as you did, it’s obvious he’s still coming to terms with it, but everyone travels at their own pace.
He learns about you, too. He asks you about things none of your past dates have asked. Hell, even your past boyfriends and girlfriends weren’t interested in half of the stuff Bucky manages to squeeze out of you. And you find it so easy to talk to him, so natural. You’ve only known him for two days, but it feels like decades.
Your hand slips into his when you leave the restaurant and head to the bowling alley. He laces your fingers together two blocks into your walk and you once again wrap your free hand around his arm. It pains you to move away when you have to go in and put on the bowling shoes.
“Before we begin,” he says to you as he watches you put your names into the computer, “let’s make a bet.” You finish entering the ‘y’ of his name and lift an inquisitive brow his way. “If you win, you can have one thing you would want from me.”
You twist in your seat and narrow your eyes, “And if you win?”
His tongue darts out to lick his lips, you watch it disappear with a pout, “I get a kiss.”
“You could just ask for one,” you laugh and slowly lean towards him.
Bucky, too, leans in and bumps noses with you, “Yeah, but it’s more fun if I work for it.” He sits back and winks, trying not to laugh at your deflated and deepening pout. “C’mon, sweetheart, you’re up first.”
You sigh heavily and pick up the bright green ball that you picked from the line waiting to be thrown. “Okay, if I win, then I get to wear that skirt and socks for you,” you say over your shoulder before you toss the ball down the lane. It rolls down the center and knocks down all ten pins as STRIKE flashes on the screen above you.
When you flop down in the chair next to him, he’s still staring at the spot where you stood moments before, gears still churning. “Hey,” you laugh, snapping your fingers in front of his face to knock him out of his daze, “are you okay?”
“Would it be wrong of me to lose on purpose,” he asks sheepishly. You roll your eyes and cross your arms and he lifts his own in surrender. “Okay, okay. I get it, that’s no fun. Just know, darlin’, I don’t go down without a fight.” He steps up and takes the same ball you used and chucks it halfway down the lane before it, too, knocks down all ten pins. He turns to you, a smirk plastered on his face.
As much as you loved to have fun, you loved to win more. “Is that how it’s going to be,” you asked, getting up to pass him on the way to take your turn.
He laughs, pressing close as you both slow when you come into each other’s orbit. “That’s how it’s going to be,” he nods and rakes over his lip with his teeth. A challenge is set and you don’t back down. Strikes and spares are thrown by the both of you in between lingering touches and whispered sweet nothings.
In the hour you two have rented the lane, you managed two games and with one point over you, Bucky wins. He doesn’t claim his prize right there, it’s too public and there’s far too many people around. Instead, he offers to walk you home and you happily accept as long as you can wrap yourself around him once again, which you do.
You two try to take your time on the way back, enjoying the crisp evening air, but more so each other's company. The conversation from dinner continues as a flow of likes and dislikes between more sweet nothings. You’re lovedrunk by the time you’re at your front door and you don’t want the night to come to an end.
Reluctantly, you release him from your hold and he looks as disappointed as you feel. “Tonight has been wonder-” “I had such a great-” you both begin simultaneously and trail off together, ending in nervous laughter.
“Thank you,” you tell him, leaning up to kiss his cheek, “for such an amazing night.”
“I should be thanking you,” he says, a hand timidly reaching out to rest on your hip. “I’ve been a little rusty at this kind of thing, but you made it easy.” His thumb traces the arc of your hip bone and you step closer to him. “But, you know, I might need some more practice.” You resisted to roll your eyes, but the laughter bubbles between the both of you. The distance closes by one of you, and you don’t care who, but you find your hands splayed across his chest, “I think I can help you out there.”
“That would be my second win of the night,” he grins down at you, his eyes trained on your lips.
“Speaking of my win,” he trails off. His flesh hand raises to your cheek and you instinctively lean into it. Your nose wrinkles at his chuckle but it doesn’t stop you from raising on your toes to close what little space there was between you.
You could sense his hesitation, the silent question of what was enough and what was too much. A small hum bubbled in your throat as you pushed your hands up his chest, nails scraping up his neck and into his hair. You could feel the shiver ripple throughout his body and his teeth came out to bite down on your bottom lip.
It was your turn to laugh now and he licked into your mouth in return, turning it into a whimpering moan. You could feel his triumphant smirk against your lips and you reward it with a tug of his hair. His hips instantly buck against you which throws you off balance, but he catches you with his metal arm winding around your back and pins you against him.
Your tongues slip and slide against one another, the taste of his sushi and beer choice mixes with your own. Your nails once again claw along his scalp and cause him to growl into your mouth. He surges forward with you in his grip and crowds you against your door, reluctantly breaking away for air, “We should say goodnight,” Bucky whispered against your kiss swollen lips.
“You can tell me good morning when you wake up next to me tomorrow,” you shoot back and roll your hips against his, causing both of you to react with a strained moan.
“Are you sure,” he asks, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.
“I’ve got a spare toothbrush with your name on it,” you nod. You watch him debate the issue with himself before placing one last chaste kiss on your lips before losing his grip just enough to let you open the door.
You two stumble in, Bucky pulling you back to him, his mouth kissing along your jaw as you try to lock up for the night. You barely got the deadbolt turned when his teeth sank into your sink causing you to cry out. He instantly licks at apologetically and turns his attention to getting you undressed instead.
When your sweater is pulled over your head, you push off Bucky’s jacket, both falling to the floor near the door. Shoes are next to go, sloppily kicked off near each other and once again you two are drawn back together, tongues dancing. Your fingers twist into the short brown locks and his hands snaked down to your ass. He lightly cups each cheek, using them to bring you as close as possible, and even though your bodies leave very little room for air to pass through you still try to move closer.
“Bed,” he breathes into your mouth. You give him a quick nod. With a happy groan, he squeezes you by your bottom, picking you up to carry you to your room, your legs instantly wrapping around his waist.
Your small one bedroom apartment isn't anything special, but it is yours and it has the biggest, comfiest bed that you are in love with. Bucky easily guides you both there, not once breaking your kiss aside from grunting or growling from your teasing hair pulls or the rolls of your hips.
He climbs onto the mattress with you still wrapped around his upper half, crawling up to the pile of pillows near the headboard where he eventually lays you down. His weight settles above you, and normally, you would welcome it’s warmth and comfort, but at that moment, you want it to be rough and needy. “Bucky,” you whine, this time the one to break the kiss.
Flushed cheeks and blown pupils, he looks down at you, boxing you in with his arms on either side of your head. “What is it, sweetheart?”
“You’re wearing too much,” you tell him as you try to pull off his shirt, it makes it up to his shoulders before it stops. His laugh shakes his entire body and yours, which makes you pout in return.
“You’re wearing the same amount, doll,” he reminds you, looking down to see your breasts sway in your camisole. “Far, far too much, in my opinion.”
You roll your eyes and playfully slap at his chest, “Then do something about it.” He mutters something about impatience and sits on his knees between your parted thighs as he pulls his shirt over his head to toss it aside.
“Your turn,” he nods to your shirt while he works on the buckle of his belt. You hastily pull the top over your head and work on your slacks, wriggling out of them just as does his own. He sits back on his hunches and looks you over, laying spread out in a matching white lace bra and underwear set. Now at he’s down to his boxer briefs, you can see how big he his, how hard he is, and when his wandering eyes rest on your covered sex, you can see it twitch with anticipation. “Holy shit, you’re beautiful.”
You didn’t think your entire body could blush from embarrassment, but Bucky just proved you could. “That’s my line,” you return, taking in every inch of his exposed skin over hard muscle. Super serum or not, Bucky Barnes was a gorgeous specimen. When you two finally lock eyes once more, you both shiver. “Are you going to touch me?”
He lets out a shaky breath and reaches out to run a hand lightly over your damp panties, slick from your want for him. “I’m afraid I’ll never stop,” he replies honestly, instantly addicted to the needy whimpers you are giving him.
“I don’t think I would want you to,” you groan. “Please?” You feel his fingertips dance over the lace, tracing over the pattern and causing you to throb with need. “Bucky!”
“You need me, don’t you,” he asks, voice dropping to a low rumble that hits you right at your core and makes your toes curl. “You need my touch. Need me to satisfy that ache?” You nod desperately trying to sit up to pull him down on top of you, but he pins you down before you could rise. “Tell me,” he purrs.
“I need you,” you respond instantly. You’re rewarded with his fingers pushing the panties aside and begin to dance along the slick folds.
“You need what,” he goads. He finds your clit and rubs it once to draw a happy mew from you but stops much to your disappointment.
“I need you, Bucky. I need you to touch me, to kiss me,” you whine with a rock of your hips, trying to get him to move again, but he doesn’t. “I need you to taste me, to lick me, to fuck me.”
Smile on his kiss bruised lips, his thumb swirls around your bud and he sinks his middle finger into you with a groan. “You’re tight,” he hisses as he sinks knuckle-deep, “and dripping. Shit, you’re going to feel like heaven.”
You can’t focus on what he’s saying too much. The feel of his fingers pumping in and out of you feels good, feels right, but it’s not enough, even when he adds two or three. He works you open, your slick starting to run down his fingers, and he palms himself over his briefs. “Bucky, please,” your voice cracks, “I need more.”
He nods, he has time to take you apart with just his fingers later, but it’s been so long since he’s been with someone like this, someone he’s felt like this with, he needs it as much as you do. When he removes his fingers from you, you whine at the loss but it cuts off into a gasp as you watch him lap and suck off your slick from his hand. Bucky freezes, eyes narrowing, and for a moment you’re wondering if you did something wrong. “What? What is it?”
“Trying to stop myself from eating you alive,” he says through clenched teeth, jaw visibly flexing with the effort. You blink up at him, confused, but he shakes his head and forces himself to remove his boxer briefs. “I’m having you for breakfast,” he decides.
“Uh huh,” you reply absently, your mouth watering as his cock bounces against his stomach when it’s free. It’s long, thick, and leaking, trying to hypnotize you and very much succeeding.
“I’ll let you return the favor, sweetheart,” he laughs. His flesh hand spreads his pre-cum down his shaft and he pumps slowly while his metal hand pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb. “Still with me?”
Blinking free of your daze, you stare at his lustful gaze and nod. He moves closer, hooks your legs over the bends of his elbows and runs the head of his cock along your folds. Your hole twitches desperately for him, “Such a pretty little pussy, so needy.” Your hands wrap around his wrists and grip at him tightly, hard enough to make him hiss. “You’ve been a good girl, I guess I can give you what you want.”
He pushes in agonizingly slow, the head of his cock sinking in what felt like centimeter by centimeter. You clench around him, trying to draw more of him in, but Bucky takes his time to bottom out. When he is finally fully seated in you, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and apparently so did he. “Fuck,” you say simultaneously.
Your legs are positioned around his waist and he once again frames your head with his forearms, which, in turn, pushes him further inside of you. “You feel so good, doll,” he whispers against the ‘o’ of your lips. “So warm, so tight, taking me so good.” Your hands find their way up his arms and into his hair. All it takes is one tug that has him growling, “And I’m going to ruin this pretty pussy so good that it’s going to feel me all week.” He rolls his hips back as slowly as he originally pushed in, “And I wanna hear you tell everyone who it belongs to while I do it.”
He snaps his hips forward driving you up the bed and further into the pillows, a cry getting caught in your throat from it. His pace is brutal, skin slaps against skin, and his mouth seeks out yours. The kiss is sloppy, but hungry, just as primal as his pistoning hips. You hold on to him the best you can as the bed rocks, headboard slamming against the wall. Your nails trail against his skin, egging him on and drawing sinful noises from love-swollen lips.
His hips shift angles and eventually find that spot that makes you see stars. “Bucky,” you cry out breathlessly, uncurling your toes and removing your nails from his shoulder blades. He buries his face in your neck and marks you with his teeth and tongue as he relentlessly fucks towards your brink. “So… f-fuck- so close.”
“Cum for me then, sweetheart,” Bucky growls against your skin, snaking a hand between your bodies to work at your clit. “Show me how good I make you feel. Cum for me.” His thumb rubs over your bud once, twice and a white hot punch in your gut blossoms throughout your body as you let out a strangled cry of his name.
You can feel yourself clamp around him, working him impossibly deeper, begging him to fall down into the abyss with you. And he does, hard. He chases his bliss with you, your name a mantra spilling from his lips as he spills inside of you. He doesn’t stop until you’ve both become too sensitive to handle anymore. He pulls out of you with a heavy sigh and falls next to you on the bed onto his stomach.
“Holy shit,” you finally break the silence, “that was…”
“Yeah,” he agrees, his head turned to look at you with tired, blissful eyes. “Goddamn, yeah it was.”
You weakly reach around to search for his hand and eventually find it, he lances his fingers with yours. You don’t break eye contact when he leans over to share a few chaste kisses before collapsing again. “You’re fantastic, Bucky, and I want you to know that was the hottest sex I have had to date.”
His post orgasm bliss is shattered and replaced with a furrowed brow, “I sense a ‘but’ coming.”
“...but as hot as it is feeling you drip out of me, I need to shower,” you finish. You can see the relief wash over him and he nods in understanding.
“I’ve got a good memory,” he yawns and taps at his head, “that image is stored right here.” You fight a blush and slide off of your bed to head to the bathroom when seconds later you hear him do the same. He shrugs at your questioning look, “No need to waste water, right?”
You laugh as you turn on the faucets only to be crowded against the wall and your mouth is covered with his once more. The water splashing against your bodies and the echoing sounds of your moans drown out the repeated calls to Bucky’s phone. Mission. Suit up. SW
Answer your damn phone. SW
It’s the green button. SW
Green button and slide right. SW
Dammit, if you blocked me again, I stg. SW
Man, what are you doing in Soho? Yes, I’m tracking you. OMW. SW
a/n: To be continued?
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes tfatws#bucky tfatws#bucky barnes fatws#bucky fatws#Beautiful Hell bb fic
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I really like the prompt list you reblogged it’s got some good stuff. What about 37. “Because I love you god damn it!” with Loki if you are still needing inspiration.
37) Because I Love You God Damn It!
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The Secret Is Out
Characters: the Avengers Bunch, Loki, Thor, Clint
Warnings: Dirty words, slight angst
Summary: after putting your life in the line for a teammate you accidentally let a big secret slip.
Announcements: I will always need insperation and requests! They feed my soul! Haha. I'm not gonna lie. Im skipping back and forth on my requests though. I have a really good story line for one but its just so emotional(thats were Im hoping it goes at least) that I didnt want to write it tonight and put my self in a mood. So instead I guess im goimg with a form of anger? Meh. Anyways... I absolutly love love love everything from you guys! The reblogs, likes, and comments are amazing and I am very greatful for all the love I am getting!!!! 💚💚💚💚💚
Loki Masterlist
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The fight had been rough but not as rough as you were feeling in the moment. You had gotten serverly hurt and had been in the medbay for about a week now and you had a longer road ahead. There had been an explosion and instead of turning to run away you had ran toward one of your team members that had been to distracted to realize what was going on, you had successfully gotten him shoved out of the way but you had taken the brunt of the blast.
Now you were laying here staring at the celing trying to stay distracted as Bruce and Tony looked at your completely shaddered knee and the burns up your leg. Fingers crossed that they would have good news soon.
"Well as of right now kid your out of commission." Tony said helping you sit back up.
"Meaning?" You pulled one of the pillows down so that you could sit up without being uncomfortable.
"Meaning right now, the way it all looks, your gonna be stuck in the bed until it fully heals and after wards theres really no way to tell if your going to be able to work in the field again." Burce said looking at the xrays again. "And your gonna have to have surgery in order to put all the right pieces back in the right places, but we cant really do that until some of the burns heal or at least start to heal. Its gonna be a long drawn out process unfortunately." He sighed setting the charts back down and walking over to you.
"Fucking hell! You mean I'm gonna be pushing paper work? I might as well go work in a damn office with four white walls and a poster that says 'hang in there, its almost Friday'." You placed your head in your hands.
"Hey! At least our paper work is more exciting than just running numbers." Tony said placing a hand on your back. He had been like a fsther to you, taking you in when you didnt have anywhere else to turn except the streets. Your own family had abandoned you at a young age and you had been leaning toward a dark path until Tony. "Besides with your expertise you dont have to sit behind a desk, your fingers arent blown off, you can still hack into stuff I'm sure."
"Tony we had a deal when I moved in. No hacking but you would train me and I could actually do good. Now look at me."
"I said no hacking the good guys, and if I remember correctly you were the one jumping close to the bomb not away from. I hate to be this way y/n but the only one to blame is yourself on this one."
"He would have been worst off than I am if not killed. I think I did the right thing. Besides you would have done the same thing if you had been closer." You sighed.
"Honey the diffrence with that is I have a supersuit, you wear a skin tight, spandex one peice, that I'm not a fan of." He laughted. Bruce had went to go get you some more pain killers to shoot into your IV.
"Tony if I were you I would shut up. Your starting to sound like you might actually love me, might even say your starting to act like a dad." You laughed pulling him into a hug.
"Shut it kid, cant let the others know I have a soft spot for the hacker orphan kid i took in all those years ago now can I." He said kissing the top of your head. "Do you need anything else before the drugs kick in and you pass out again?"
"Yes, can you please bring me my phone charger, laptop, and that really fluffy blanket that you and Pep got for me for Christmas."
"Dont ask to much of me now."
"I wouldnt be asking if you would just let me stay in my room. I hate it down here. I wanna be were the people are." You were starting to get loopy from whatever Bruce had given you.
"Ok little mermaid, get some rest I'll get your stuff." He laughed walking out the door letting you fall into a restless sleep.
You didnt know how long you hade been asleep but you woke up with a groan trying to sit up so you could atleast stretch your back from laying in one spot for to long. You flopped back down dramatically with a sigh. You could sense someine else in the room with you, you always knew when he was around.
"You dont have to hide in the shadows Loki. Your more than welcome to keep me company, you should know that by now." You smiled as the prince walked over and sat in the chair beside you. You could tell he hadnt been sleeping, his hair was fixed as always but his clothes looked worst for wear. He had on a plain black shirt and a pair of gray sweat pants, both of with had wrinkles in them either from tossing and turning or from not being changed in a few days.
"Whats wrong? And dont pull that 'nothing is wrong dear. I'm absolutly fine.' Bullshit. You look horrible." You reatched out to grab his hand. What you and Loki had was diffrent. You didnt just see his as a friend, he didnt just see you as that either though. You had spent many nights sitting up with the silver tounge man many nights laying on the couch watching movies, reading, talking about each of your pasts. He knew more about you than even Tony did.
"I'm still currently trying to wrap my head around why you pushed me out of the way and took the blow when you had a chance of dying from it. You shouldnt have been so thick headed my dear." He took your hand and raised it to his lips kissing the top of your hand.
"Loki." You sighed rolling your head to look back up at the celing. "You would have been hurt alot wordt than I am now, that blast could have killed you."
"I am a god y/n, that blast wouldnt have caused me nearly as much damage as it did you." His voice raised slightly.
"Thats what you think. You think that because you are "immortal" that you can take anything thats thrown at you. That no one really cares about you, that you wouldnt be missed? So why not try to take a blow from a bomb? My god your so stupid sometimes."
"I know I can. Norns y/n I've jumped into space, been brain washed, tried to take over New York, gotten smashed around by the Hulk. I was raised with Thor, he doesnt really go easy on a person. What I'm saying is I dont understand why you, a mear midguardian, would sacrifice themselves for me. If anything would have happened-"
"Nothing did happen though. I'm fine-"
"You have steel sticking from your leg, theres no telling when or even if you'll be able to walk again, and there are highly server burns that will leave scares. You cannot sit there and tell me that you are fine."
"Your right it does suck that I'm jot gonna be able to pull off shorts or a bikini anymore."
"This isnt a joke y/n. You almost died!" He finally yelled.
"And i would do it a thousand times over if that ment saving your damn ass again!" You shouted back.
"Why though?! Why me y/n? I've done horrible things, killed people! My life is meaningless." Tears had sprang to his eyes as he looked away.
"Because I love you God damn it!" You stopped suddenly your jaw dropping at the admission that you hadnt ment for him to hear. His head jerked back to you.
"What?" Shock was all over his face as he stood to walk closer to you. "What did you just say?"
"Because I love you Loki Odinson. Because if you were to die I dont think I would be able to go on living. Because even if you see all the bad things that you've done I can look pass that amd see all the good that you are doing." You reached up placing a hand on his cheek and wiping away a tear.
"I love you too y/n. I have since the day I met you. The girl that didnt care what anyone said when she spent time with me. The girl that can see through every face i put on. I love you so much darling." He placed his hand on your face and leaning down gently kissing your lips.
It felt like you thought it always should you felt electricity run through your body and the two of you connected. It was like getting a breath after not being able to for so long. He pulled away smiling at you.
"What do we tell the others?" He asked laying on with bed with you being easy with your leg. He placed his arm around your middle and pulled you as close as he could.
"I honestly dont care what we tell them. They can figure it out themseves for all I care." You smiled lacing your fingers with his, you yawned placing your head on his shoulder closing your eyes.
"Sleep now my Dove, I will be here when you wake." He felt your gentle breath slow as you fell asleep, the rhythm you of your breath lulling him into his own sleep.
Tony and Bruce walked in the next morning stopping dead at the sight in front of them. You and Loki were still cuddled on the small bed sleeping peacefully.
"Should we wake them up?" Bruce asked looking at Tony.
"Na, let them sleep. Dont want to let them know that we know." Tony saod grabbing Bruce's arm and turning to walk back out of the door.
~~~~
Tag List:
@kgirardin
@sophlubbwriting
@supbeeches
@high-functioning-lokipath
#loki laufeyson#loki odinson#loki#loki avengers#loki daily#loki fanfic#loki fanfiction#loki x reader#loki fluff#loki request#loki masterlist#loki x you#lokilaufeyson#loki one shot#loki x y/n#loki friggason
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volleyball players!golcha + a supernatural twist
so casey (@thepixelelf) came up with this brilliant idea (original blurbs here - read them they’re so fun + will help you understand what’s going on in this post) but essentially this is golcha as a volleyball team EXCEPT they all have superpowers
and no this isn’t some saving the world type shit everyone at the school just happens to have some superpower so they’re just trying to navigate the hell that is high school while dealing with powers so CHAOS
anyway please enjoy these brief blurbs and reblog if you did, and again do not forget to check out the original post here because why not it’s FUN
pairing: golden child x gender neutral!reader
wc: 11.7k (total)
genre: fluff, a bit of angst in some parts, volleyball!au, superpowers!au
triggers: cursing
Volleyball!au Masterlist (casey + lina) | Golden Child Masterlist
daeyeol - golden tongue
daeyeol has a golden tongue which basically means he can be very, very persuasive with his spoken words when he wants to
like casey said it comes in handy when he’s arguing with the basketball team for gym time but in 99% of other situations daeyeol tends to... be very awkward and stilted in a way that isn’t characteristic of those with a golden tongue
the boys sometimes tease him about it because a tongue-tied golden tongue? that’s not supposed to exist
but he’s just afraid of accidentally manipulating people even though he really does have a pretty good grasp on his power :/ like sungyoon will try to remind him that but daeyeol’s still wary
on the court though he literally just exudes confidence. like daeyeol is GOOD at volleyball and he knows it
even if his teammates clown him they listen to him when he’s running drills/coaching because daeyeol knows his shit. he’s been playing volleyball for years at this point AND has an older brother who played as well he knows what he’s doing
he’s been playing the longest of all of golcha and it shows in games! he’s one of the best players if not the best
really the other boys do look up to him even if they show it in a roundabout way
(daeyeol complains about the lack of respect all the time but tbh he doesn’t really help his case when he’s soft for every single one of the boys)
side note: he has a bit of a special bond with bomin :) as in bomin clowns the everloving fuck out of him but he also always goes to daeyeol if he’s not feeling good and daeyeol is always there to listen it’s super sweet
(more on that in bomin’s part :D)
does interviews with the school newspaper after games and he’s just so different from normal because volleyball is one of the things besides academics and stuff that he’s confident in
as a side note he got voted most boyfriend material in one of the school newspaper polls because he looks perfect and is the sweetest (have you seen how he gets so soft with the boys in every video online? don’t argue with me) and it made its way into the yearbook
older brother and alumnus sungyeol clowns him every other day for it
daeyeol gets revenge by reenacting sungyeol’s worst volleyball fails and sending them to his friends
has a whole folder on his phone of reenactments at this point
anyway like i said daeyeol is a little awkward in everyday situations so enter you: confrontational + rash with a sharper tongue than is probably necessary and an affinity for changing temperatures
well. more like you can ratchet the temperature up at will. bringing it down is much harder
it’s useful when it’s winter and everyone’s freezing but the temperature also likes to creep higher when you get pissed off which is sometimes not nice when it’s like negative degrees outside and inside it’s like 100
the only way to cool the room when the second thing happens is to calm you the fuck down! or turn on the air conditioner
and the first is easier said than done
it’s not like it’s only unpleasant for other people though bc you’re not immune to the heat and also because you’re the one like. producing the heat?? your skin gets boiling hot to the touch if you’re upset enough and several times people have gotten fucking burns by touching your arm to try and calm you down
usually it’s fine bc you have a good grasp on your power when you’re calm but if someone says something offensive/stupid.... god help them
anyway even though daeyeol doesn’t like to use his power much he’s still one of the people that others go to when situations need defusing because they (mostly) respect him as an older and more mature person (i say mostly because the amount of disrespect he gets from his volleyball team on the daily... yeah let’s just trend #prayfordaeyeol)
and that’s how you meet! you’re yelling at someone for saying something fucking stupid and daeyeol walks in right when you’re threatening to hit said person if they don't shut up rn
daeyeol manages to calm the situation but not before everyone stupid enough to still be in the room is sweating buckets including him
this just... continues
like daeyeol becomes the go to for situations involving you specifically bc you respond better to him for some reason
and you get to know each other just from daeyeol walking in on you threatening to throw someone out of the window and saying no! nope :) no you’re not throwing anyone out of any window :) come on y/n let’s go :) while subtly dragging you out of the room
the thing is he listens to you. he actually listens to why you got pissed instead of just telling you to control your anger. like he does emphasize the fact that you need to control yourself because what if this happens around people without powers? but he listens and that helps more than anything really and you actually start getting better at controlling yourself
and somewhere along the way things just click between you two and you become friends. you like him bc he’s v kind if awkward and he’s the only person who’s never tried to calm you using golden tongue manipulation and he likes you bc you’re so outspoken and bold
then one day you get genuinely so upset about something someone said and daeyeol doesn’t care about your blistering hot skin he doesn’t care if you’re raising the temperature in the room he doesn’t even care if he gets burnt he just kisses you on the forehead softly and holds you close even as you’re overheating
which just drains the fight out of you and you kind of collapse on him and stay like that for a while
he then takes you out for cold drinks (because you’re still overheating a little) and kisses you over an iced americano and boom relationship
the other boys find you very fun to be around and marvel over your relationship bc you’re confident and loud meanwhile daeyeol is a bumbling mess when he isn’t using his power or he isn’t on the court
but it works ok it just does. don’t question it
(jangjun does once and even with his super strength he ended up lying on the court bc the element of surprise is the only thing that can really get him)
(and lucky for you you know exactly how to take advantage of that <3)
(daeyeol just thinks it’s hot + impressive and kisses you right after)
(bomin + 99 line gag but you threaten to give them the same treatment and they shut up)
sungyoon - telekinesis
so as casey said sungyoon comes from a long line of telekinetics except he’s not entirely sure why he’s even at this school because... he has never shown any manifestations of this power
not to his knowledge at least
i say this bc people have seen stuff twitch when sungyoon’s around, he just never notices and thus concludes that either people are fucking around with him and it never happened or it was just a coincidence
anyway he doesn’t really care much, like sure he sometimes gets insecure/unsure of himself in a school full of kids with superpowers
but like i said this school is just a safe haven for those born with powers, they’re not training or anything they just learn to control what they have
and since sungyoon doesn’t have much to control he’s doing fine as far as everyone is really concerned
it’s also kind of nice being the only normal one on the volleyball team like everyone else has wack-ass powers that fuck shit up but sungyoon is like the calm in the middle of the storm like hi yes i am also part of this team of idiots but at least i don’t break equipment or injure people inadvertently
for this reason some people think sungyoon is the only sane person on the team
they are wrong
sungyoon can and will go batshit insane at the first opportunity
he is also a massive tease and if anyone asks him to do anything he’ll make it a back and forth for like 5 minutes before deciding whether or not to actually do it
bomin: sungyoon can you help me get the mats
sungyoon: why
bomin: p l e a s e
repeat for at least five minutes and you now have a regular day to day conversation with sungyoon
but sungyoon really is passionate about volleyball okay, like he loves the sport so much
he used to get worked up about it so much that he’d over-practice and actually play worse :/
got over that with joochan/daeyeol’s help (he and daeyeol weren’t on good terms for a week or two though) and now they’re one happy dysfunctional family :)
if you bring up that time in sungyoon’s life you will be subjected to his death glare so maybe just... don’t
like even jangjun doesn’t talk about it and that’s saying something
anyway moving on
in terms of powers you’re the opposite of sungyoon. aka you have wack-ass telekinesis and you have no idea how to control it
which?? somehow sungyoon comes in handy with this
because despite not really having powers himself, he watched his sister learn to control her abilities and also listened in on his parents’ advice to her because most of the time controlling powers really just amounts to controlling emotions
aka why sungyoon is (for the most part) so calm and mature
when he’s not purposely being a little shit to golcha of course
but you and sungyoon are kinda... at a loss bc it’s not like you go absolutely off the walls batshit insane?? like you’re a relatively calm person and even though the powers do manifest when you’re feeling a strong emotional upsurge
other than that they’re just... seemingly random???
regardless of that sungyoon makes you start on breathing exercises n shit and you would honestly probably complain if you weren’t sick of your powers manifesting every five fucking seconds. like at this point you’ll try anything
cue long sessions after school in the gym of sungyoon practicing spikes while you sit in the corner controlling your breath to the beat of balls bouncing on the floor
sometimes a few of the other team members join in but more often than not it’s just you and sungyoon
as time passes, in between cleaning scuff marks off the floor and picking up balls that just have flown everywhere, you and sungyoon get closer
and somehow... you don’t know exactly what happened but your powers aren’t so out of wack anymore
sungyoon can’t completely explain it either but like? neither of you is going to complain
you kind of think it might have something to do with how sungyoon is just a calming presence. like when you talk with him and stuff you’re less likely to inadvertently make something move or whatever
it’s not just with sungyoon too - it kind of seems like if you’re focusing intently on something, then the mini episodes don’t happen
sungyoon hypothesizes you might be a little like youngtaek as in you need something to concentrate on because if you zone out shit happens
you maybe zone out less than he does but maybe it’s a more subtle thing with you than with him who knows
anyway
one day you two go to get coffee after leaving the gym together and sungyoon looks weirdly nervous and you ask if something’s up while praying you don’t send all the sugar packets flying everywhere
and then when you leave with your coffee he asks you out
like really. he asks you out. you can’t believe it
so the lid flies off your coffee cup and liquid splashes everywhere
now you have burns all over your hands from hot coffee and sungyoon is freaking the fuck out and luckily donghyun was just leaving school so he gets called over to take care of your burns
anyway after that sungyoon is still a flustered mess and you’re trying to tell him you’re fine, look all the redness is gone and also yeah sorry about that i’d love to go on a date with you
CUE SUNGYOON’S COFFEE CUP FLYING OUT OF HIS HANDS AND SPLATTERING ALL OVER THE GROUND
you swear it wasn’t you and sungyoon KNOWS he didn’t just drop it so the only conclusion left is that sungyoon did it
oh my god he actually has telekinesis!
(the rest of golcha: yeah let’s just pretend we HAVEN’T been saying this for literal years)
anyway let’s just say that between sungyoon confessing + figuring out he actually has telekinesis powers it was a very eventful day
golcha loves you but is also wary of whenever you’re around bc sungyoon tends to get v nervous and maybe the net starts lifting out of the ground if you surprise him with a kiss
but it’s fine! you’ve learned all of the techniques sungyoon taught you, now it’s just time for him to get a taste of that too :)
and sungyoon would probably bitch and moan if it was with any other person but it’s more time to spend with you so is he really gonna complain?
no <3
jangjun - super strength
ah yes. resident ‘i’m doing my best to control my powers but sometimes i get too excited and whoops now there’s a hole in the gym floor’
once again credits to casey for that idea (she actually wrote a drabble for it which you can find here)
he’s gotten better at controlling his powers but uh sometimes excitement gets the better of him all right
look he’s trying!! ok!! he really is
especially when it comes to volleyball - he’s really serious, does his absolute best not to cause any damage to the gym because one time he cracked the wood floors and let’s just say admin was not happy
worst day of jangjun’s life trying to explain that shit to the principal
so yeah he’s doing a lot better now with controlling his power
but at the same time let’s not ignore half the reason why there are far fewer accidents than before - you
you and jangjun meet like halfway through your first year of school during gym class when jangjun hits a ball a little (a lot) too hard and it ends up knocking you the fuck out
a healed concussion + a million apologies later, you and jangjun are laughing your heads off in the clinic with the nurse screwing her eyes up in confusion like?? this boy just smashed a volleyball into your head and now you’re laughing with him wtf
but jangjun’s so funny and friendly that it’s hard not to become his friend so after that you two are essentially inseparable
so when jangjun decides to play for the volleyball team you sign up to be team manager
(you also help him practice and do you best to keep his power in check)
which works out! because you’re responsible and organized but most importantly you have power over air
and given enough warning (which, as you gain more experience, doesn’t have to be a lot), you can manipulate the air to stop some of jangjun’s more aggressive serves from hitting the ground too fast and causing major damage to the newly-renovated floors
daeyeol + the coach thank every higher being for your existence at each practice
youngtaek + joochan started a cult in your name after you saved both of them from one of jangjun’s spikes hitting them in the head
yeah let’s just say golcha is v thankful jangjun gave you that concussion back in first year
ANYWAY
one day you’re picking up some volleyballs that are lying around while the boys play a practice match in the middle of the gym
and because your back is to the fucking court. you don’t get any warning except a few sharp screams before a ball just motherfucking smashes against the back of your head and knocks you the fuck out for the second time in your life
you come to on the ground with donghyun passing his hands over your throbbing head
and the first thing you do when the pain is gone is look up and ask where jangjun is
half the team has disappeared from the gym but donghyun tells you he had a major mental breakdown when he saw you unconscious on the floor and just ran out. the others are already trying to find him but you don’t care you just run out to try and find wherever the fuck your best friend is
you find him crouched in the corner of a stairwell with his head in his hands and you’re like jangjun what’s wrong oh my god are you okay?
and he just looks up like oh my god you’re okay. you’re okay right?
you nod like yeah?? donghyun worked his magic of course i’m fine now but what’s up with you? were you crying?
he just clams up then which obviously confirms your suspicions and you’re like dude... why were you crying. i’m really fine
and then he explodes like - i fucking hate my power sometimes i hate that i can’t control it i hate that i accidentally break people or hurt people when i don’t mean to and it’s even worse when it’s people I care about like fuck y/n why can’t i just have a power that doesn’t cause all this stupid shit -
so you just lash out with a gust of wind and shake the railing on the stairwell
jangjun’s like why did you do that
and you say every power has a destructive side. i can hurt people on accident. if i got really riled up i could slam someone against a wall and knock them out the same way you did with me. it’s happened before
jangjun flinches but you just step closer like jangjun. you’re doing fine. your power is cool as fuck. i admire the control you have over it and no don’t argue, i’ve watched you over the past few years and do you know how much you’ve improved?
it ends up with you hugging jangjun and despite all his muscle he just collapses like a rag doll in your arms and on impulse you kiss his forehead like it’s ok, i’m fine, you’re fine. we’re all fine
and that little impulse kiss changes everything. even though neither of you really says anything explicit at first, something shifts between you and even though jangjun was touchy before, now you hold hands between classes and hug before practice and golcha is just like... /eyes emoji/
jangjun brings it up one weekend when you two are trying (key word: trying) to study and you just kind of shrug and ask what do you really want to be? labels or nah? bc honestly you’re happy as long as he’s around
which makes jangjun’s heart flutter and maybe the pen in his hand explodes all over his notes (not like they were legible anyway, you just promise to lend him yours) and voila! you’re dating
it’s super cute but also super loud
like jangjun will yell across the court like HEY WATCH ME ROLL AROUND ON THIS VOLLEYBALL Y/N (or whatever the fuck he was doing in the breathe mv behind) and you yell back like FUCK IT U P JANGJUN!!!
coach maybe praises your existence a little less now but daeyeol just reminds him that you’ve saved every member on this team + him at least once by now and the cult revives
as your bf jangjun strong-arms (literally) youngtaek/joochan out of the way as the head of the cult now
you two are very supportive and very loud in your support
you’re essentially each other’s professional hype-people and like to celebrate with kisses while everyone else gags
it’s disgustingly cute
someone always yells something about pda and then jangjun just kisses you harder
cue the boys screaming and you laughing and an unamused (he’s amused he’s just trying not to show it) daeyeol
coach is the only one who’s really unamused but at some point he just gives up because jangstar does what he wants as long as you’re fine with it
/shrugging emoji/
youngtaek - pyrokinesis
youngtaek has power over fire but it’s not really so much that he can control fire and more like he just... zones out and oops his notes are burning
it’s usually best to keep him and daeyeol’s s/o in separate rooms because fire + ratcheting up the temperature does not equal a good time
like casey said when he’s focused it’s all cool and he has a decent measure of control over his power but when his eyes go dazed and he’s staring into the distance then you better pray the room has a bucket of water or a fire extinguisher nearby
it isn’t usually a problem because this is a school for kids with powers and youngtaek isn’t the only pyrokinetic here but it is a hassle when sometimes youngtaek zones out on the court and hits the ball and suddenly jangjun’s screaming because he got hit by a volleyball on fire and now his uniform is on fire and everything is on fire
oops
but anyway with anything that isn’t a) volleyball or b) music youngtaek has less than half the attention span of a goldfish which means he may or may not be lagging behind in several classes
and it isn’t enough for him to be in danger of failing just yet but his teachers are like youngtaek i think you might need a tutor if you want to do more than just pass the final
he also needs better grades if he wants to keep playing volleyball so he decides to find a tutor
so he asks daeyeol about it bc despite his dyslexia daeyeol is a pretty good student but he’s busy as an upperclassman and all so he refers youngtaek to you!
you have the power to memorize anything you put your mind to. like if you really wanted to you could memorize an entire map of the city or its skyline but you just don't care enough to do that
only things you care about are school + your hobbies + your friends/family
anyway you meet up with youngtaek and from the start it’s kind of a mess because he zones out in the middle of you teaching him math and somehow sets the table on fire
after that you make sure to keep a bottle of water nearby (it comes in handy several times)
but despite the slightly disastrous first meeting you take a liking to youngtaek because beyond everything he’s genuine and honest and just a really good person regardless of the fact that he’s a little fire-happy
so tutoring sessions start ending with walking each other to the bus stop or getting a drink together or whatever and it’s really nice and sweet, youngtaek’s happy to be doing better in his classes bc you’re so patient and a really good teacher
and one day he blurts out that when he heard about your power he wasn’t sure you’d be a good teacher because everything seems to come easily to you
then he covers his mouth because holy hell he wasn’t supposed to say that youngtaek come ON
you calmly put out the little fire on the side of the desk before telling him it’s fine, you get that a lot but really being able to memorize things isn’t as helpful as people seem to think
like sure you can memorize the fact that 2+2=4 but if you don’t understand addition as a concept then you won’t be able to do 5+5=10 or something like that
and you can’t exactly just memorize concepts. so with memorization comes a lot of hard work in trying to understand it all
and from this little conversation youngtaek comes out with so much more respect for you?? like god damn he now sees just how hard you work for everything you care about and youngtaek likes that. he likes it a lot
so yeah both of you have budding feelings at this point but because i'm the author i get to say you’re idiots in love so you don’t say shit
until after finals you and youngtaek go to a party daeyeol’s hosting and you both get tipsy-drunk-ish and by the end of the night youngtaek’s face is buried in your shoulder and before he passes out fully he mumbles that he likes you so much it doesn’t make sense
and you’re drunk too so all you do is kiss his forehead and fall asleep
unluckily for you a mostly sober kim donghyun got a video of all that so when you both wake up a couple hours later it’s to several still-awake members of the volleyball team + your friends all up in your faces like oh my god they’re in LOVE
youngtaek wakes up with all the noise and just blinks sleepily and you kinda pat his head and tell him to go back to sleep while giving everyone else death glares like SHUT THE FUCK UP SO HE CAN SLEEP
but you don’t know about the video >:)
so one of the sober boys ends up bringing you two home and when you wake up the next morning donghyun has added you both to a group chat and sent the video there
you scream into your pillow
youngtaek screams into his pillow
and you both proceed to do absolutely nothing about it until joochan locks the two of you in one of the music rooms and slides a copy of the song youngtaek wrote about you under the door
you get to the paper before youngtaek can burn it and it’s messy it’s awkward it’s hilarious but you two end up together by the end of the day so it worked... kinda?
your presence helps youngtaek a lot by giving him something more to focus on throughout the day and subsequently not set everything on fire
though mind reader bomin complains because he used to zero in on youngtaek’s mind when things got too much since quote unquote ‘there’s not much going on up there’ (credits to casey + fact in star) but now if youngtaek’s brain isn’t playing the music from the mii channel it’s thinking about you which isn’t ideal
youngtaek may or may not have attacked bomin after that
you may or may not have had to pull him away when bomin’s shirt started smoking
but it’s cool the smoking goes away when you kiss his forehead and youngtaek just beams like the entire sun
seungmin - foresight
like casey said seungmin has foresight and it’s anything but useful
he’ll either get glimpses of dumb unimportant shit like haha the day’s lunch includes rice or visions of stuff he can’t avoid like hey youngtaek’s going to trip on air oh oops he just did aaand now his shirt is on fire
honestly if he was going to have foresight he could at least like?? predict stocks or some shit?? why the fuck does it MATTER if youngtaek’s about to fall if seungmin can’t even help him
not like he’d help even if he could because seungmin isn’t an angel and youngtaek falling is funny but still it’s the principle of the goddamn matter
sometimes he gets glimpses of whether or not golcha will win their volleyball matches but like casey said he doesn’t say anything because he doesn’t want to ruin the team spirit before the game’s even over
plus who said the future was fixed in stone? like none of seungmin’s momentary glimpses have been wrong yet but there’s always a chance... right?
seungmin isn’t going to discount that possibility yet at least
but he didn’t always think that way - you’re actually the one who opened him up to that point of view
you’re an ordinary person with no powers or anything but you work part-time at the juice bar across the street from his school and sometimes golcha will go there after practice to get something to drink
and you have a special soft spot for seungmin because he’s the first of the group who started frequenting the shop
and on that first ever visit he helped catch you when you slipped bringing a tray of drinks to a few people sitting in the corner
even though you both ended up on the floor covered in juice he still managed to break your fall enough that none of the glasses broke and while giving him his drink you kind of joked that it was like he knew what was going to happen before it did
which... is not exactly false
seungmin was waiting for his drink when he got a little glimpse of you falling and him helping catch you but then it all happened before he could even process the vision so like yeah he did see it but not soon enough to prevent anything
like usual
anyway you promise seungmin a free drink the next time he comes in when you’re on shift and so he does come in though he insists you don’t have to give him his drink for free
you just say well buy me a drink then. two for one
(listen he’s cute and he broke your fall and he seems polite. who’s gonna sue you for being a little flirty)
and so a beautiful relationship is born :)
seungmin really likes you a lot like so much?? he used to laugh at youngtaek for being so whipped for his partner but now he thinks he kind of understands it
the one thing to worry about is the fact that you don’t have powers and he does but it’s not that big of an issue really. like foresight is one of the abilities that doesn’t really manifest itself physically beyond maybe having a bit of reaction time? but considering his foresight is literally useless even that’s debatable
well actually there’s another thing to worry about: the boys finding out he has an s/o and teasing him to high hell
which they do while also demanding free drinks as seungmin’s friends
on days when you’re feeling nice you’ll do it but money always appears in the tip jar that pays for the free drinks
(it’s daeyeol. he feels bad)
anyway you don’t know about the foresight/powers thing until daeyeol calls you one night to pick seungmin up from a party one night and on the way home he stops you from almost getting run into by a speeding car
WHILE TIPSY/DRUNK
once you’ve recovered you ask him how he reacted so fast and he just kind of tipsily smiles and says ‘i saw it was going to happen’
you don’t ask him anything then because he’s drunk and sleepy so you just drive him home but the entire time you’re thinking about all the little things that have just... seemed questionable during the time you’ve known seungmin
and it’s weird as fuck but at the same time you can’t figure out any other explanation? because once is normal, twice could be a coincidence, but upwards of ten incidents is not right
it feels like you’re bella confronting edward about being a stupid vampire (no i never read twilight and i'm not sorry about it) but a couple of weeks later you ask him
he doesn’t actually remember the drive back home that night because he was kind of too wasted but he definitely does remember the other incidents including when you two met skdjghs
he spills after a few minutes of awkward silence and begs you not to tell which of course you promise to because why the fuck would you not? if the truth got leaked that would be disastrous and it’s not like you’re scared or anything, seungmin’s (mostly) harmless even if some of the other abilities like youngtaek + fire or jangjun + strength give you pause
but you get to talking about his power of foresight and seungmin kind of shrugs at one point while saying that he doesn’t know why he gets glimpses, it’s all inevitable anyway so what’s the point
and you just say maybe it isn’t that way. maybe he’s seeing one future possibility, maybe even the most likely one, but that doesn’t mean it’s the only one set in stone right?
seungmin loves you a lot for that. like so much. it’s a new perspective and it gives him more hope than he used to have and you just KNOW the conversation ends in kisses and cuddles
because while he’s not going to actively try and prevent what’s about to happen if it’s bad (like he can’t exactly influence the outcome of a volleyball match beyond just doing his best - plus, his foresight doesn’t give him enough time to really react to most things), it gives him some hope that even if his foresight says something will turn out bad, there’s a chance it might turn out well :)
anyway seungmin pocket boy you two fit right into each other when you hug which results in the other boys cooing but seungmin’s strong even if he’s small so they get a few new bruises that donghyun just refuses to heal
we love evil donghyun
you also go to their volleyball matches and seungmin trusts you enough to tell you what glimpses he got of the game but you always remind him the future may not be set in stone and regardless of what he sees you always cheer him on just as loudly
all the boys come piling into the juice bar after games and you smile and give seungmin a free drink while everyone else has to pay
they decry favoritism but you just shrug and kiss seungmin over the counter while they scream
dramatic assholes
jaehyun - gravity manipulation
so like casey said jaehyun can manipulate the gravity of objects, either send them floating up in the air or slamming down on the round
which sucks if the object in question is a volleyball and it comes pounding down on his toes when he isn’t paying attention
this happened at the first ever volleyball practice he attended and the boys (read: jibeom) have yet to let it fucking go
his husky voice doesn’t help because when he complains jibeom the boys just imitate his voice which derails the entire practice and now coach + daeyeol + team manager who’s jangjun’s s/o are all lying facedown on the ground like when will this madness end
never. the answer is never
but it’s ok jaehyun gets his revenge when they’re all practicing and he sends jibeom’s ball flying up into the air and refuses to let it come down and when he does the ball drops right on jibeom’s head and whoops look who’s got a concussion hey donghyun can you fix this
jaehyun is also one of the few occasional lifesavers (literally) besides team manager + donghyun because given enough warning, he can manipulate the gravity on one of jangjun’s maybe too strong serves and make it come down more softly than it would’ve otherwise
the problem is he isn’t super adept with his power
more experienced students will be able to manipulate gravity very subtly, but jaehyun more or less has three settings - floating, slamming down, and very occasionally something in between
which isn’t exactly ideal but jaehyun’s working on it, it’s fine, he’s not too pressed about it
anyway you’re a student at the school for students with superpowers in the next city over and you play basketball
you don’t know jaehyun but he sure as hell knows you because even though he stopped playing basketball a few years ago to focus on volleyball, he still loves the sport and he happens to think you’re one of the best players he’s ever see
also you’re really cute
jaehyun goes to every single basketball game that’s against your school just to watch you play
he doesn’t really do much other than watch because a) he’s so focused on your performance that he doesn’t register much else and b) everyone would clown him for cheering your team on skdjgskjg
also jaehyun’s just shy. like really shy you couldn’t catch him approaching you/showing interest towards you unless someone forced it out of him
which is what his lovely friends from 99 line decide to do
they obviously know about his crush like joochan was with him the first time jaehyun went to watch a basketball game against your school so he SAW the heart eyes
he took a picture and sent it to jibeom who sent it to donghyun and now it’s the profile picture for their group chat dedicated to making sure jaehyun asks you out
jaehyun has no knowledge of this group chat because he’s oblivious
anyway one day after a game they’re in the parking lot bc jaehyun’s driving this time and jaehyun is babbling about oh my god y/n was so great this time they’re literally so good at basketball holy shit?? and while he’s talking he doesn’t notice jibeom/joochan/donghyun like. subtly pushing him closer and closer to your team who’s just waiting around the bus you’ll take to get back to your school
and only when you look up does jaehyun realize he’s now close enough for you to have heard literally everything he just said in the past minute or so
cue the awkward crow noises as you and jaehyun just stare at each other
suddenly the backpack in jaehyun’s hand just drops onto his foot and if it weren’t for the steel-toed sneakers he’s gotten in the habit of wearing then he’d probably have a broken foot
as such he kind of lets out a quiet dying screech (it HURTS) and now jibeom/donghyun/joochan are dying like three feet away meanwhile your friends are screaming into their hands like Y/N IT’S A CUTE BOY YOU LIKE CUTE BOYS TAKE THIS OPPORTUNITY YOU IDIOT
and when nothing happens for five seconds beyond jaehyun’s ears turning tomato red joochan steps forward and is like hello my friend here is whipped for you so if you’re comfortable would you please give him your number because he’s been dying for it since like. last year when we saw you play for the first time
jaehyun nearly launches himself at joochan like SHUT UP DUDE but then you’re handing over your phone while looking away because fuck jaehyun’s really cute and you wouldn’t mind getting to know him okay??
(who wouldn’t though that’s the real question)
anyway the two cities aren’t too big so it’s not that hard for you and jaehyun to meet up for coffee at some point (which jaehyun surprisingly gets the courage to initiate - he reasons it as he’s the one who was interested first so he kind of has to be the one to do it but that doesn’t mean he’s screaming throughout the entire text conversation) and after a semi-awkward first interaction you two surprisingly hit it off and after a few weeks you’re dating
you’re the ultimate athletic couple like jaehyun does volleyball and you do basketball and sometimes you play each other in the park or jaehyun starts teaching you how to play volleyball and it’s really cute
over the summer your friend group + golcha goes to the beach to hang out and jaehyun sees firsthand how much you’ve improved at volleyball
i didn’t mention it earlier but your power is water manipulation which not only comes in handy with putting out youngtaek’s inadvertent flames but also is very useful in splashing your friends + golcha all at once at the beach when no one else is looking
of course everyone just piles on you and sends you flailing into the ocean and maybe you choke on seawater because you’re laughing so hard but jaehyun pulls you out and your first kiss tastes like salty ocean and even with the rest of your friends + golcha screaming it’s perfect
water manipulation also helps when they dump you both into the ocean and you just kinda make a bubble where it’s deep enough and kiss jaehyun there (yeah pjo the last olympian vibes deal with it)
daeyeol gets worried when you don’t come up and then you surface a second later in his face and he screams it’s glorious
you use your power to strip away your sweat after basketball practice and jaehyun begs you to do it for him too after volleyball practice when you’re there which of course you do because you’re a nice s/o
when he gets a little better at the subtleties of his power jaehyun likes to lift you up using his gravity manipulation and spin you around it’s really cute
you show up to jaehyun’s volleyball games against your school to cheer him on despite the fact that one of your friends is on your school’s volleyball team skdjgshkd (and maybe jaehyun accidentally drops the volleyball HARD on his foot the first time you scream his name)
jaehyun starts doing the same when it comes to your basketball games he is no longer shy about screaming your name from his school’s side of the bleachers :)
his friends call him a traitor but jaehyun doesn’t really care because he’s the one who gets to kiss you after your games so who’s the real winner here?
him obviously
jibeom - invisibility
casey i think this blurb was my favorite, it’s so fucking funny and literally so jibeom
so like casey said jibeom can turn invisible which is really fun for him and a nightmare for everyone else because he’ll just sneak up on people and be like BOO
if you have a weak heart you better stay vigilant
but there are also issues because like casey came up with sometimes jibeom accidentally turns invisible during a fucking game and gets confused as to why no one’s serving to him until one of his teammates or the coach on the sidelines notices he’s gone and is like JIBEOM YOU’RE FUCKING INVISIBLE
it’s fine the school only ever plays sports against other supernatural schools to avoid spreading the secret about superpowers to regular humans so people are used to this kind of shit but it’s embarrassing for jibeom skdjgshjg
he’ll try to put his ability to his advantage by turning invisible when he’s supposed to be running laps/doing drills and hoping daeyeol/coach/team manager don’t notice
at this point though they always do and then it’s another five laps/set of drills for him
big sad
anyway jibeom’s just living his invisible life you know being a little shit with everyone
mocking jaehyun’s voice and turning invisible when jaehyun tries to swipe at him
sneaking up behind his friends and scaring them even if it means he gets decked in the face (that’s one thing he won’t repeat with jangjun. like the dude doesn’t get scared easily but if he gets startled... the super strength is not a blessing for jibeom if he doesn’t move fast enough)
and then you transfer to the school
so you used to go to the school jaehyun’s parter goes to but your family moved or smth so now you’re here and jaehyun’s the only person you even vaguely know so you kinda stick around and become friends
and of course jaehyun introduces you to the rest of golcha
now jibeom is in the gym. invisible okay. waiting for jaehyun to show up so he can do his daily scare-jaehyun-because-i’m-a-little-shit routine
then you walk into the gym with jaehyun and the first thing you fucking say is there are thirteen people in this room (10 golcha members + you + team manager + coach) but i only see twelve so who’s the invisible one walking up right behind jaehyun
jaehyun fucking screams, a whole crate of volleyballs goes tumbling to the floor because gravity manipulation + jaehyun getting scared go hand in hand, everything is in chaos, youngtaek+joochan+jangjun are crying of laughter at jaehyun’s reaction, and jibeom is now standing visible behind jaehyun wide-eyed and surprised because how the fuck did you know
turns out your power is being able to sense/locate invisible things including invisible jibeoms so the rest of golcha + manager + coach think you’re a lifesaver because finally someone can find jibeom whenever he disappears
wrong
like yeah if jibeom has disappeared in the middle of practice you’ll yell and be like KIM JIBEOM GET YOUR ASS OUT AND PRACTICE YOU DUMB PIECE OF SHIT
is it a surprise that you and daeyeol’s partner hit it off in less than five seconds
but if jibeom’s disappearing just to be a little shit you’ll purposely point people in the wrong direction like you’ll reassure youngtaek that oh no jibeom’s over there trying to scare seungmin and then jibeom appears right behind youngtaek and now both of you are cackling on the floor and youngtaek is about to set your backpacks on fire
you may have joined the school late but now you are an honorary 99 line member regardless of what year you were actually born in i don’t care they don’t care they’re just happy to have another ball of chaos to join their ranks
coach considers banning you from the gym but daeyeol reminds him that if he wants to ban you he’ll have to ban everyone else who comes in to visit and cause chaos aka his partner and you know daeyeol needs his hugs before practice so that isn’t going to happen
so you get to stay
most of the time it’s fine like you just sit in the bleachers and do homework while occasionally yelling at jibeom or other slackers, it’s only really during breaks that you act up
so anyway even though you’re an honorary 99 line member you spend most of your time with jibeom pulling dumb tricks or being unintentionally funny as fuck
therefore it is only logical that the rest of 99 line starts pushing you two together
fucking meddling brats
they do all the normal stupid shit like announcing outings to malls and ditching you two alone, deciding to go to the movies and ditching you two alone, you see the idea
look they’ve got pea brains they can’t come up with much
but get this: you and jibeom are already dating
yeah. you both started fucking dating a few months after meeting because you were both having a late night study session at your house and your tongues were loose with exhaustion and you may or may not have said some stuff you weren’t planning to
you almost kissed but then you were like it’s almost midnight and we haven’t brushed our teeth so maybe not tonight
it’s fine jibeom got a kiss the next day (the whole day he acted like he wasn’t waiting for it at all and you teased him for that before finally leaning in)
you haven’t kept your relationship secret out of shame or embarrassment or anything you both just kinda want to see how far 99 line + rest of golcha will go to get you two together. plus it’s nice when they buy you movie theater tickets when they just plan to ditch so you don’t have to pay for the date you end up having
it’s really fucking funny the more frustrated they get so you and jibeom don’t let up until daeyeol catches you two kissing just outside the locker room after you thought everyone left (NOTHING FUCKING NASTY OKAY THIS IS A SFW PLACE AND BEYOND THAT - NO ONE HERE IS GOING TO DO A N Y T H I NG OUTSIDE A L O C K E R R O O M)
shit goes down in the volleyball group chat that night but you and jibeom are just sitting together on his couch laughing at everything
99 line definitely holds a grudge
daeyeol won’t shut up about how he needs to clean his eyes out with bleach (as if he doesn’t want to kiss his partner every five seconds jfc)
coach just despairs over the chaos you two bring
but you and jibeom don’t care :)
side note you know what’d be fun - if you don’t have the slightest fashion sense like jibeom and you two become known for wearing stripes + whatever your favorite design happens to be all the damn time
idk i just think it’d be funny to watch everyone trying to clown you but literally neither of you giving a shit
donghyun - healing
so like casey said donghyun has healing abilities
and first and foremost he would like to say he’s tired of healing the injuries these idiots get every practice
i mean he’s not going to refuse treatment for like a jammed finger or a sprained ankle because that’s normal in volleyball or even burns from youngtaek/joochan because that’s just accidentally losing control which could happen to anyone but like??? falling over because you tried to prank jangjun and he basically backhanded you out of surprise??? that’s on you jibeom
kidding kidding donghyun will heal whatever’s been set on golcha but he WILL complain about it the whole time
that’s his right ok if he has to deal with this bunch of idiots (who also don’t fucking clean up after themselves) he’s going to complain about it with his whole chest
which is not a very broad chest but donghyun can talk a Long time so that more than makes up for it
gets teased by all the other team members but they’re really grateful for him not just because of his healing abilities + affinity for cleaning but also because he really does care for them
and as much as he complains he’ll do as much healing as needed, even if it drains his energy
but there are two major cons of his abilities
1. using his power too much (like all other powers) drains him of energy, so if he heals one too many injuries at a time then he’s in danger of also passing out
it isn’t usually a problem because it’s not like golcha gets injured every five seconds but some practices are more accident prone than others
once joochan fell and broke his leg and donghyun passed out trying to heal it and ended up in the hospital too. not fun
2. he can’t use his power on himself. like if sungyoon fractures his finger donghyun can fix that no big deal but he can’t do the same to himself healing just doesn’t work that way
it is for this reason that each sports team has a designated healer who isn’t a member of the team - of course if the team has a member who is a healer that’s useful, but they need to keep their energy up + they can’t heal themselves which is a problem
anyway the last healer for the volleyball team graduated last year so you come in to take their place
you’re super nice to golcha like you heal their injuries whenever anything happens no matter how stupid it was and they start making jokes about how you’re more helpful than donghyun haha because you don’t complain/nag about everything
and like donghyun knows they’re teasing but at the same time... it kinda hurts
what makes it worse is that you’re nothing but nice to him as well? like it’d be so much easier to dislike you if you were rude
so donghyun just kinda... avoids you and doesn’t say anything about it to anyone. does his absolute best to avoid getting injured so he doesn’t have to be around you any more than necessary
and several times you try to make conversation but he just brushes you away which leaves you confused and makes donghyun feel worse but he really doesn’t know what else to do
then one bad day he jumps up but misses the ball and falls on his leg hard. like really hard and there’s pain shooting up his side but he can’t feel a break or anything so he just gets up and tries to keep playing, like practice ends in five minutes anyway he may as well continue
but you call out and say to stop practice, donghyun’s hurt
except donghyun has had a really bad day and this is just the icing on the cake so he may or may not yell at you to go away, he’s fucking fine, and when you keep pressing he just grabs his stuff and leaves
the second he gets home he collapses on the floor and just... stays there because yeah he may not have broken anything but his leg hurts like a bitch and then he starts crying
skips school the next day because he feels like absolute shit (mentally and physically) but 99 line comes to visit and they’re like so. explain what happened yesterday at practice
and donghyun is ready to get defensive but they’re more confused than anything, his outburst wasn’t like him at all and why would he yell at you? you never did anything wrong
that’s when donghyun breaks down and tells them everything about how he’s felt over the past few months with you as the new healer
it ends in a big cuddle session between four idiots and apologies and donghyun promises to apologize to you tomorrow
which he does. and surprisingly you’re really gracious about it, it makes donghyun feel worse yet again because you’re so genuine and nice and you even offer to heal his leg again because it looks like it still hurts
the teasing decreases and donghyun feels much better, he also stops brushing you off and actually begins hanging out with you a little outside of school/practice
and while working late on a group project for history (your other group mates ditched you two and donghyun is still seething over it) he realizes that this has evolved into a stupid crush
said crush is only compounded when you tell the teacher half of your group did absolutely nothing without donghyun having to say anything
but of course since donghyun 1. is an idiot and 2. pretended to hate you for several long months he doesn’t say anything
until you fucking ask him to the end of the year dance. you ask him to the dance and donghyun thinks joochan has given him electric shock because his brain definitely has to be malfunctioning
after five solid seconds of short-circuiting he nods like an idiot and haha you’re going to the dance together
golcha boys won’t shut the fuck up about how cute it is or whatever
donghyun blushes red while you just smile serenely and promise not to heal their injuries for the next week so they better avoid getting hurt
yeah donghyun is definitely in love with you
you’re probably a more low-key couple, you enjoy study dates or quiet activities more than like. amusement parks or whatever kind of shit joochan/jangjun subject their partners to
you might kiss in public if the moment feels right but more often than not the only real pda you show is holding hands which makes golcha coo
donghyun would rather hug you sweetly in private without worrying about his teammates trying to ruin the moment anyway
you agree but then proceed to kiss his nose in front of everyone and whoops he’s a blushing mess and golcha (+ the coach) are screaming
sigh
joochan - electricity
ah yes, the ultimate question: which hurts more, electric burns or fire burns?
join the golden child volleyball team and you can experience both firsthand!
jk (not really) but between joochan and youngtaek, golcha kinda has their pick of what kinds of burns to get (other than like. rope burn or burns from sliding on the ground idk)
like casey said it’s v lucky donghyun/his partner are around to heal them because really trying to slap a volleyball with a burnt hand is not fun
most of the time though joochan’s fine, he’s just full of energy and gets staticky when excited and like casey came up with the boys will sometimes dare each other to touch his hair when it’s sticking straight up and get shocked
or if you’re a bitch like jangjun you’ll take someone’s hand and purposely place it there so they get shocked
(jangjun’s also stupid though so he gets shocked by proxy if joochan’s staticky enough)
(i mean at least it makes everyone laugh???)
(yes this was inspired by that one video where he and bomin (i think) are playing with the lie detector (or was it the jangstar episode with daeyeol?? i can’t remember) and he put his hand over bomin’s/daeyeol’s and got wrecked too)
jesus christ this is supposed to be about joochan not jangjun let’s get back on track
anyway when joochan gets worked up either out of excitement or a more negative emotion the one thing that never fails to calm him down is music
he can play several instruments and sings very well
so if it’s been a bad day or he’s feeling anxious, he’ll either go to the school music rooms of his own accord or daeyeol will notice and send him there to calm down a little before practice
which is where he finds you!
joochan’s playing the piano one day, singing n stuff and completely oblivious to you sleeping under the goddamn piano
how did you end up there? you were waiting for a friend/sibling (whichever one you choose) to finish up some after school activity so you could walk home together and you were sleepy and under the piano seemed like a decent place to nap so you set an alarm and passed out
look high school is draining so if you’re not making the best decisions by the end of the day who can blame you
and the piano is a real grand (let’s pretend the school has money shall we) so unless joochan was really looking (which he wasn’t), he wouldn’t have noticed you at the back
joochan’s there for a couple hours playing peacefully
AND THEN YOUR ALARM FUCKING RINGS
joochan screams and falls off the stool
you shoot up and hit your head on the bottom of the piano
for a moment you two just groan in pain and then you look at each other and are like. what the fuck
and then it’s your turn to scream
anyway you both stop screaming eventually (miraculously no one comes in) and you try to explain to joochan as best you can and he just stays silent and you’re apologizing and then he busts out laughing
and somehow both of you are laughing through the pain and even though joochan wasn’t feeling too good earlier he feels even better laughing with you
when you eventually leave you have a new number in your phone and the promise of seeing joochan tomorrow :)
first thing joochan does when you go is text the 99 line group chat and be like guys someone fell asleep under the piano while i was playing and then woke up and my butt hurts from falling off the stool out of surprise but i think i’m in love
donghyun: stop being dramatic
jibeom: yeah what’ll happen when you accidentally shock them for the first time
joochan: you guys are horrible
but it turns out jibeom is... actually a little bit right
and it’s even worse. because your power is over water
water + electricity Do Not Mix
it isn’t usually too big of a problem? because it’s not like you conjure water out of anywhere or are always soaking wet bc you need water around to manipulate it, you can’t create it yourself
so like it’s kind of fine
except for some reason you react a little worse to joochan’s electric shocks (even mild ones) primarily due to your power which isn’t fun at all
it’s not just you, water manipulators are known to have more averse reactions to electric shocks than people with other powers
but it sucks because you really like joochan and he really likes you and both of you definitely want to ask each other out but how is this going to work if just being around joochan might be a hazard to you?
and for the first time joochan just... he really hates his power
like he’s given people some small burns before on accident but they weren’t big
with you though, even if it’s a small shock you react more badly than anyone expects and joochan really fucking hates it
after several volleyball practices where joochan is really out of it, daeyeol is about to ask what’s up but surprisingly jangjun steps up and says let me handle it
because after getting together with his partner, he thinks he has an idea of what joochan’s upset about
and when he asks joochan spills everything
it’s the first time joochan has really seen jangjun serious about anything other than volleyball or his partner
so jangjun tells joochan about what his partner told him, and really knocking someone unconscious once or twice isn’t as bad (though still bad) as getting electrocuted by a stray fucking spark
but similar advice applies. all powers have a destructive side and it shouldn’t stop joochan from living, he just has to learn to control himself as best as he can. there’s nothing more he can do but that
and this gives joochan the courage to ask if you want to talk about it
i’m going to say it ends well because i’m the author and i’m not going to give joochan a sad ending (he’s joochan what the fuck how could you do that to him) but you do acknowledge what could happen if either of you loses control
which just makes you two more determined to completely master your abilities so you won’t inadvertently hurt each other
really it’s sweet. joochan is still excitable but sparks fly off of him a lot less and the few that do you take care to avoid until his hair stops sticking up with static
and you take care to keep water away from him when he’s full of electricity
when joochan kisses you for the first time your lips tingle like his electricity is bleeding into you but it’s pleasant and sweet unlike his sparks and it just makes you want to kiss him all the time
(you tell that to him and he has to take like five minutes to figure out how to breathe again)
99 line won’t stop clowning you two for how you met and jibeom shows you the text about being in love that joochan sent
legend says you can still hear jibeom’s electrocuted (not really he’s just being dramatic) screams in the gym late at night
yeah it’s cute you like bringing joochan roses bc they’re his favorite flower and joochan likes to bring you your favorite snacks and jangjun + his partner view you two like younger siblings in a way bc of the nature of your relationship
one big happy family until joochan’s hair sticks up and you have to yeet away
it’s fine though as long as you give him a kiss after he’s calmed down :)
bomin - mind reading
this one turned out so long compared to the others why
for context this was 1.7k and the others were all comfortably between 1k or 1.2k i'm gonna scream
anyway. bomin. mind reader like casey said. he’s kind of got it bad
well all mind readers do until they learn to block off their ability until they actually want to use it
which bomin is learning but he’s young and he found out his powers a little late so he doesn’t have as much experience
meaning whenever he goes to school his head kind of feels like it’s going to explode :/
it’s okay in volleyball - actually if anything it’s kind of useful
because yeah bomin is focused on the game, but he keeps a bit of his mind open to his teammates’ thoughts so he knows where to move or where to keep open and all that
and if the other team is a bunch of assholes he doesn’t stop from reading their minds a little so golcha’s ready to take them on :) small advantages
so where volleyball is concerned it’s not that big of an issue, even when the gym is full of spectators bomin can usually focus even without latching onto an empty mind because there’s so much going on in the game and he has to concentrate on that
however in uninteresting classes or when he’s just having a not good day...
luckily it’s gotten better after a year or so, like bomin can mostly filter out the world if he focuses on just one person’s thoughts
which is usually youngtaek (as casey + irl bomin came up with) because quote unquote ‘there’s not much going on up there’
yes i know i said that already in youngtaek’s part but it’s still hilarious to me and now it’s bomin’s turn so i’m saying it again. sue me
except now youngtaek has a partner about whom he thinks all the fucking time if he isn’t focusing on music/volleyball/class (though the last one is a little less frequent) so concentrating on youngtaek’s mind is now not exactly an option for bomin
no one’s mind is really empty at this point or at least not empty enough for bomin to use as a sort of safe space so he just resigns himself to having to go through all of this until he finally gets the hang of blocking off his ability
so the school year ends and daeyeol/sungyoon graduate wonderful blah blah blah long story short bomin is in all new classes with many new people and it is... a bit much
but life goes on and there’s not much bomin can do about things except work on his own power so even though he’s kinda crumbling around the edges he just smiles and bears it
and then he gets paired with you for a school project. at first it’s not anything special, just a regular project right
but then you guys decide to meet up at a cafe to work on it and it’s more crowded than either of you expected and bomin hasn’t had the greatest day so he just... stops in the middle of the cafe with this weird expression on his face because he’s just really overwhelmed
he doesn’t expect you to grab his wrist and drag him out of the cafe and into a quieter area of the street
and he really doesn’t expect you to say hey. focus on my mind, okay? my mind. focus.
but he manages to and there’s just blissful emptiness and bomin latches on like it’s his lifeline (in a way, it is) and after a few minutes he manages to get his head together
turns out you have a sibling at home who’s also a mind reader and when they were still learning to control their power you learned to empty your thoughts temporarily so they’d have a place to focus on if things got to be too much
you also have a golden tongue (that you always control carefully) but it helps calm bomin down after he says it’s fine if you use it
after that you tell him if he’s having a mini crisis he can always find you
and bomin just about cries because after daeyeol/sungyoon graduated he kind of felt like his support network at school was missing something bc as much as he clowns them (daeyeol especially) he really relied on both to talk to about his mind-reading issues
now that you’re offering to support him... it just means a lot
definitely doesn’t help that he’s had a bad day in general and his emotions are kinda fraught at this point
you don’t end up getting anything done that day, you just take bomin over to your house bc no one’s there and your family won’t mind even if he’s still there when they get home, so you just take the time to get to know each other a little when bomin feels good enough to interact
he apologizes a lot for nothing getting done but you just hit him and tell him to shut up, it’s not his fault and you still have a couple weeks to work on it so it’s fine
you guys work on the project and it goes well in the end but even after that you and bomin still stay in contact
since you have a sibling who went through the same stuff bomin did, you have some tips to share about blocking out other minds even if your power isn’t the same
plus your golden tongue is really useful in calming bomin during the moments he needs it. you always make sure to get his permission to use it before you do though
when bomin asks about it you say it’s because of consent and stuff and if you don’t get permission it feels more like manipulation than helping?
to him the similarities between you and daeyeol on that end are uncanny (even if you’re less awkward sorry not sorry daeyeol) and bomin just admires you all the more for it
anyway life’s going well, you and bomin are really good friends now but maybe like halfway through the year or something bomin senses that you’re becoming a little more closed off?
like he does his best not to read your mind but sometimes he gets accidental glimpses and though they’re usually pretty free (as in you don’t care what you’re thinking about around him) he now gets less of these glimpses and when he does, your mind seems emptier than usual
and he doesn’t want to bring it up? because that equals admitting he reads your mind sometimes no matter how accidental it is and with your emphasis on consent with your power bomin isn’t sure how well you’d take it
but then you avoid him for like two weeks so bomin breaks down about it to daeyeol over the phone and yeah it’s time for you two to talk
it takes some awkward silence and prodding and really big effort on bomin’s part to not willingly see what you’re thinking but the gist of it is
you have a fat crush on bomin and you’ve been avoiding him because you don’t want him to accidentally see any of it
bomin is like... y/n what the heck i have a crush on you too why didn’t you say anything :(
anyway it’s time for big reveals i guess so bomin admits he accidentally sees into your mind every so often and he feels really bad about it but you’re super understanding bc of your sibling of course
and bomin feels kind of stupid for worrying so much he should’ve thought of that but oh no now you’re hugging him and saying sorry into his shirt so pretty much all thoughts fly out of his mind because maybe this is a little like heaven to bomin
dating you is so refreshing. he’s so happy to have someone around who completely understands like yeah there are other mind readers in the school but it’s not as common a power as others and they’ve been masters at blocking out the world for a long while that they’ve kinda forgotten about how it feels to a beginner
but you’re so sweet and understanding and bomin feels even better when he meets your sibling who teases you two of course but also serves as another pillar of support for him
it’s not just one-sided either. like even though bomin tries not read your mind without permission, he’s still good at picking up on your moods even if you’re not explicit which makes it so much easier to trust and confide in him
and even if you’re not in the mood to talk he gets that too - he won’t force you to do anything
on the occasions when even you can’t pick through your own thoughts you let bomin take a peek in and even if he can’t help in the moment it’s enough that someone else knows and understands :)
you’re so fucking cute together. like the rest of golcha coos over you. even donghyun who’s the most low-key with his partner jfc
daeyeol and sungyoon come back from university to visit and bomin’s like. we’ve got to hide
you: why
bomin: just trust me
long story short you do not (you: they’re your former teammates and friends! how bad can it be?) and uh by the end of the day maybe you’ve had enough teasing about you/bomin for the rest of your life
but when he’s not teasing you do hit it off with daeyeol bc of the same powers thing and secretly bomin’s really happy that two of the people he treasures the most get along so well
yeah you and bomin are just super cute and rely on each other a lot in a healthy way and you’re always there for each other
everyone wishes they had as nice a relationship as you two :)
you: you shouldn’t. bomin teases me every five fucking seconds about something i did like three months ago
bomin: and yet you love me :)
you: debatable
bomin :|
(it’s ok you kiss him later and he gets smiley again which you delight in seeing even if he does go back to teasing you five seconds later)
If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3
(1 reblog = 1 prayer for the team coach he needs some support dealing with all these brats)
#kpopscape#golden child#golcha#gncd#golden child scenarios#golcha scenarios#golden child oneshots#golden child imagines#golden child x reader#golcha x reader#golden child daeyeol#golden child y#golden child jangjun#golden child tag#golden child seungmin#golden child jaehyun#golden child jibeom#golden child donghyun#golden child joochan#golden child bomin#fluff#tw cursing#volleyball!au#superpowers!au#scriptura-delirus
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21 History Ancedotes for my 21st Birthday
So today I celebrate my 21st birthday and I have decided to gift you all with 21 of my favourite historical Ancedotes. Some are funny, some are sad and some are plain bizarre but I hope the make your day 💜
Mary Maloney, an Irish-born suffragette in England followed Winston Churchill around while he was campaigning for a seat in Parliament, drowning out everything he said with a very large bell and calls for him to apologise for his comments on women's rights and suffrage movements.
Clodius Pulcher was a well born Roman noble during the last day's of the Republic. He gave up his Patrician status to become Tribune of the Plebs (an office in which one had to be a Pleb) by being adopted by a much younger Plebian man who became his "father". Clodius was a bit of a riot, sneaking into religious festivals dressed like a woman to sleep with Caesar's wife, building a shrine to Liberty in the ruins of the Conservative Cicero, vetoed the last speech of one of the Consuls (who basically did nothing all year and was apparently going to roast Caesar) and burned down the Senate House with his funeral pyre (the Plebs who loved him literally tearing up the furniture to build his pyre). He was honestly the best fun.
When laying on her deathbed, Queen Caroline of Ansbach turned to her husband George II of England and told him he should marry again. George refused to ever wed again... But added he would have mistresses. Caroline said , likely with a roll of her eyes, "oh my god that doesn't matter."
Florence was a pretty cool city in the Renaissance until Savanorola came to town. He disliked the loose living artists that crowded the city, with their naked pagan gods and rampant homosexuality. He expelled them all with help of the French hoping to make Florence Holy Again. When the Borgia Pope excommunicated him and sentenced him to death, one man in the crowd was reported to have said. "thank God, niw we can return to sodomy." One Floretine man in the 1490s said Gay Rights.
So this list couldn't be complete without an entry of the only American politician I love, Alexander Hamilton who was just a walking entity of sass. I could go on about his sharp sarcasm or his disaster bi vibes with John Lauren's but my all time favourite Alexander Hamilton ancedote has to be this exchange with Thomas Jefferson "There are approximately 1010300 words in the English language, but I could never string enough words together to properly explain how much I want to hit you with a chair."
Caterina Sforza was an Italian noble woman during the Renaissance. She was apart of the powerful Sforza family, which drew many enemies to her. One fateful day at Forli, Caterina's children were snatched as hostages. The besiegers threatened to kill her children if she did not cede the castle. Caterina refused, lifting her skirts and shouted to the besiegers that she had the means to make more children.
Hannibal Lecter's creator Thomas Harris was happy to end his great character's story with the original trilogy. However his publishers forced him to write an unneeded prequel explaining why Hannibal became Hannibal. Thomas Harris agreed lest he lose the rights to his character so he wrote Hannibal Rising, where Hannibal as a young man hunts down the Nazis who ate his sister with a katana.
Nell Gwyn is my favourite mistress of Charles II, mainly because of her sass. Once while trapped in the middle of a riot where Londoners swamped her carriage thinking she was Charles's Catholic mistress. She popped her head out the carriage and told the people "Pray good people be civil. I am the Protestant whore." She also dosed her rival Moll Davis with laxatives in order to free up some of Charles's time and she once flashed her underwear at the French ambassador after asking him why the Franch King did not pay her to spy on Charles because she was with him every night. A true Queen.
Emperor Ai of the Han Dynasty of China once rose from his bed to go do some ruling when he realised his lover, Dong Xian was sleeping on his sleeve. Rather than disturb his lover, the Emperor cut his sleeve off at the wrist to leave Dong Xian nap. Nothing has ever been more romantic than that. Y'all could never.
Princess Margaret the sister of current Queen Elizabeth II was a socialable Princess and often tasked to visit the up and coming music stars of the day on behalf of the Crown. When meeting the Beatles one evening, she noticed George Harrison was acting a little odd. When she asked what was the matter, he replied "We arent allowed eat until you go." Princess Margaret laughed and promptly left so the Beatles could get some dinner.
During the Siege of Jadotsville, Irish soldiers under the flag of the UN were attacked and besieged by local insurgents allied with the Katanga Regime. The insurgents numbered thousands while the Irish only had 158 soldiers, all who were lightly armed. They radioed to their allies assuring them that "we will hold out until our last bullet is spent. Could use some whiskey though".
Napoleon was famous for writing raunchy letters to his wife, the Empress Josephine while he was away. She used to reply with really mundane letters or not at all. She really just could not be bothered with him.
Josip Broz Tito was so fed up with Joseph Stalin sending assassins to kill him, he wrote to Stalin personally to say "If you don't stop sending assassins to kill me. I will send one to Moscow and I won't have to send another." It didn't work but Big Dick Energy.
Successful Roman soldiers returning from war often got to march along in parades known as Triumphs. During this, it was customary for them to sing bawdy songs about their commander. One surviving one about Caesar goes like this "Romans, lock up your wives. Here comes the bald adulterous whore. We pissed away your gold in Gaul and come to borrow more."
Matilda, Lady of the English was a woman so badass that history cannot handle her. She was the daughter of Henry I who left his throne to her after the death of her brother. She was away in France when her father died and her throne was snatched by her cousin Stephen. They battled back and forth for years with neither side ceding any ground. Matilda was once besieged in a castle during a snow storm, with Stephen's men all around her. Instead of fighting her way out. She simply donned a white cloak and walked out of the castle. Just walked out without any of Stephen's men seeing her.
Pedro of Portugal once fell in love with a beautiful lady in waiting called Inez de Castro. For years, they lived as man and mistress, popping out a few kinds. Pedro's dad really did not like Inez and wanted Pedro to find a legitimate wife so he had her killed. Pedro returned home to find the mother of his children dead. Pedro went a little crazy. He had all his father's assassins killed, ripping out their hearts as they had done to him. When Pedro ascended the throne, he demanded the Pope legitimize his children by Inez. The Pope not wanting to upset the King, said he couldn't because Inez was never crowned Queen. Pedro dug Inez up and crowned her as Queen, having all the nobility swear loyalty to her corpse. The Pope had no choice but to agree to his request.
A famously clever general once saved an entire city with an ingenious stragety to sit outside the city waiting for the attacking army to come. The attack had come to fast for the city to ready themselves for a Siege so, the general had to move quickly. He evacuated the city and took his place waiting for the army to come. The enemy forces stopped and took one look at him and bolted, thinking he meant to lure them in one of his famous traps.
Michaelangelo was really badly treated by the Vatican when he was painting the Sistine Chapel. He constantly fought with the Popes over the design and his work, which he was paid peanuts for. Michaelangelo got his revenge in his work, painting the gates of Hell behind the Papal Throne and an angel flipping the ol' fig (the Renaissance version of the bird) toward the Pope's chair.
Peter the Great was not a perfect guy. He kept serfdom as a practise in his kingdom, he had his son tortured to death and he could be an unpleasant guy. But Peter was a dreamer. He wanted nothing more to build a fleet for Russia and bring Russia beyond its borders. Peter took a gap year from ruling Russia to wander around Europe. When he stopped in England, he was granted Leicester House to chill in while he did his shipwright studies. It was here that Peter found a new passion. The wheelbarrow. Cue Peter and his new found English buddies drinking in Leicester House, punching the artwork and rolling each other around in barrels across the house's Great gardens.
Diogenes is hands down a walking shit post. He was a great thinker in Greece during the reign of Alexander but a rather dry, sarcastic wit. He lived in a pithos/a jar because he shunned all vanities and values of society. He trolled other philosophers, attending their debates to heckle them and eat loud foods through them. When Alexander the Great came to fan boy over him, saying that if he were not Alexander he would like to be Diogenes to which Diogenes just said "yeah me too, now get out of my sunlight."
Cosimo de Medici was the son of a Floretine banker with a great knowledge and love of art. Cosimo wished for Florence to release its potentially and join the Renaissance. He hired Filippo Brunelleschi to finsh the Great Dome of Santa Maria del Fiore which had láin unfinished for over a century, a symbol of a failure of ambition. The builders had lost the knowledge of creating a dome so large so it remained unfinished. Despite much opposition from the other nobility and denouncers of the Renaissance, Cosimo's dream of the completion of the dome was completed, making it the largest brick dome in creation at that time. There is nothing like achieving your dreams and certainly nothing like leaving a lasting reminder that screams 'I was right and you were wrong' to stand for centuries.
#Instead of doing shots I decided to give you all a gift#History is our greatest gift#And it's filled with dick jokes and idiots#Anyway happy birthday to me#Go forth and enjoy this great gift#history dump#History Ancedotes#History bites: kinda?
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Haikyuu! Hc’s (Inarizaki/Fem!Reader)Quirks
Characters: Ren Omimi, Aran Ojiro, Hitoshi Ginjima, Atsumu Miya, Osamu Miya, Rintaro Suna, Heisuke Riseki and Michinari Akagi
(I did Kita on the captains one I did. The link is down below)
link
Warnings: Fluff, Cursing and NSFW
Omimi- Thunder Valley
Omimi’s quirk was an accumulation quirk, which means he has to build up his power in order for his quirk to work. His quirk was much like All Might’s, but with less force involved with it
He didn’t ask you out up front, but Atsumu did. The Miya twin literally walked right up to you and told you in front of everyone in your classroom
He thinks the way you snort when you laugh is pretty cute in of itself
Even if he’s not going to be a hero he still trains his quirk on the down low, so that later in life it doesn’t become an inconvenience
Cuddles with him are always warm doesn’t matter what position he’s in, little spoon or big spoon, there’s always a great amount of heat
When sex came into the question further down the line of your relationship he made sure to take every precaution into question. His quirk ran on emotion (mostly anger) and he wanted to make sure that it didn’t go off during any sexual acts
Fingering was always a iffy subject, anything dealing with his hands were
Ojiro- Electric Fist
Aran’s quirk an emitter quirk allowing him to electrify anything and anyone, downside is that only his hands are the ones emitting the electricity
Your in one of his classes and he would be lying if he said he didn’t noticed you. In fact he paid close attention to every tiny thing you did, from taking notes, speaking, walking, etc.
The type of person to deny that he even had a crush on you. But, only confessed when the Miya twins got involved, especially Atsumu. He did it in the form of a medium sized gift basket
Likes that your laugh is kind of strange, it makes you sort of special in a sense
Always makes up an excuse to hold your hand. “I had to get you out of the crowded hallway.” He’s a pretty bad liar, can’t come up with a good excuse to save his life
His quirk goes off too easily when he gets ‘excited’, so he buys specialized rubber gloves in order to touch you properly
He loves it when you ride him backwards. He’s kind of an ‘ass man’, so facing away from him really gets him going
Ginjima- Spirit Whip
Ginjima’s quirk is also an emitter quirk his quirk allows him to throw his soul out of his body and into other living being; dogs, cats, birds, humans, etc.
Gin knew he had a major crush on you and it was completely obvious to everyone and you
He didn’t really confess more like you had to bring it out of him. Celebrated to his teammates that he finally got a girlfriend
Goes on long dates with you, even after a grueling session of practice he takes you out for lovely date. Nearly overdid himself to the point of passing out, so now you both just laze around for most dates
Loves to show off his quirk to impress you. But, gets scolded by Kita for taking over Atsumu’s body
His quirk gets compared to Ino from Naruto, and gets pretty insecure about it. So, be wary on how you talk about his quirk
His quirk went off during his first time with you. As soon as he climaxed his soul flew out and into his pet fish
Atsumu- Pyromancer
Atsumu’s quirk is an emitter type, permitting his quirk to shoot out flames from any part of his body. Cocky as hell when fangirls tell him is quirk is one of a kind, his brother says otherwise
Atsumu asked you out without any dithering. He wasn’t ashamed at all that he purposely asked you out in front of the whole volleyball team
Girls would sneakily use their quirks on you as payback for going out with Tsumu
He didn’t really do anything until he actually saw it happening with his own eyes
Your boyfriend is more than just cocky chiefly about his quirk. Like you could be laying on his chest and he just brings up his flame quirk and then brags about it non stop
Since he always brags about his quirk, he makes sure that he could back it up. Exercises his flames on a daily basis, so it not likely it would set off during sex
Except for the one time his hands got too hot riding him and he had to take you to the emergency room for third degree burns
Osamu- Hydromancer
Osamu’s quirk is also an emitter type, and just like his twin can squirt water out of any body part. Cool thing about his quirk is that he can spray his brother whenever he gets a hot head
Osamu was up front about liking you, too. Gave you a weirdly made bento that spelled, “Will U Go Out With Me?”
Spends most of his free time with you. His favorite thing to do is cook with you or for you. Only makes enough for you and him, so when Atsumu comes in to eat there’s nothing left
Loves to spray you with his quirk, but doesn’t his own strength. Like the one time he blasted you in the back so hard it left a dark bruise in the center of your shoulders
Expect to see quirk fights between the twins. The whole room steams up rapidly like a full on sweat sauna in under thirty minutes
Kisses are usually long and sweet. He’ll try to rub his sweat off on you after practice, so you both have to take a shower afterward
He tried having sex in the storage room at school and his quirk set off as you gave him head. Leaving you dripping wet and people questioning you why you switched uniforms
Suna- Lethargy
Suna’s quirk is an accumulation quirk allowing himself to get tired on a daily basis builds up his strength. If he were to take a hero path this is his excuse for sleeping during class
He wasn’t going to tell you his feelings until Osamu started pressuring him into exposing them
He’s a lazy lover, so assume that a lot of dates are inside or close by. However, if your more of an energetic person he’ll try to be a little more open minded
Cuddles with you before practice and after practice. If your in another classroom he’ll sit you on his lap before class starts to get in his daily affection
Kisses your neck a lot even if other see him, he doesn’t care. Did it in front of a teacher once and had to clean the classroom by himself
He likes it when you spend time with his friends, maybe not Atsumu, but Osamu and Aran watch over you when he not around
Suna’s quirk wouldn’t go off after of during sex. Yet, he does tend to pass out after any type of sexual favor
Riseki- Diamond
Riseki’s quirk is a transformation quirk covering his whole body in a diamond layer, eats a lot of barbeque to keep up his hardening. Accidently blocked off his airways in his full body transformation
It’s quite ironic that his quirk harden the outside, but can’t harden his feelings
His reputation isn’t quite the best with most of his classmates, so when you asked him out he thought you were making a joke. Especially after his screw up at their last game. The whole school booed him
This guy loves holding your hand, but doesn’t do it in public as much. Until you reasoned with him that he shouldn’t be ashamed of people seeing them together
He loves how you can stand up for yourself, it gives him the confidence to stand his ground more often
His teammates tease him for kissing you outside the gym when they have practice. Teasing him even more when they catch him making out with you in the locker room
You both decide to have vaginal sex, but it turned ugly soon after. He grew rock hard after his first orgasm and cut the top of your pelvic pretty bad
Akagi- Bright Light
Akagi’s quirk is a mutant quirk it illuminates his whole body at all times, even on the lowest setting is still noticeable. Watching movies in general is awful if everyone around you hates your dim gleam
He had help from Aran and Kita to help him gather the courage on asking you out. Was a lot more confident after a quick pep talk from
Goes on a variety of cute dates with you on the weekend. Even drops by your classroom to set gifts he bought for you. Makes homemade gifts that he thinks you would find adorable
He can’t turn off his quirk so whenever it’s late outside he’s literally your human nightlight. Sometimes younger kids run around him calling him “Twinkle Star”
Hugs you from behind turn into picking you up and swinging your body back and forth. Pretty strong so it doesn’t matter what body type you are
His main concern is his weight, so he tries to watch what he eats. Fails miserably, but with your help he’ll get through it. You stop eating some your favorite fatty snacks in front of him and make him something nutritious for his diet
His quirk sprung to a full shining, glare of light when he recieved a hand job. To make it any worse it was pretty dark in the room besides the t.v., so seeing his body erupt with light is kind of cute
#bnha and haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#inarizaki x reader#omimi ren x reader#ojiro aran x reader#hitoshi ginjima x reader#miya atsumu x reader#miya osamu x reader#suna rintaro x reader#heisuke riseki x reader#Michinsri akagi x reader#bnha quirks#haikyuu au#haikyuu!!#haikyuu omimi#haikyuu aran#haikyuu ginjima#haikyuu atsumu#haikyuu osamu#haikyuu suna#haikyuu riseki#haikyuu akagi#haikyuu quirks
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BNHA - STOPPING, OR SAVING DABI?
Here I come with theories!
DISCLAIMER: I do not condone abuse, may it be emotional, physical or psycological.
Now, as I’ve stated in the tags and the meta on chapter 325, I like the whole Todoroki family. Aside from Shouto and Enji, they may seem like minor characters, but they are actually well enstablished and deep and their reactions and reasoning after Endeavor begins his atonement arc are very nuanced.
I’m sure you already know what the point of view of every family member is: Rei won’t forgive him, but she’s also watching as he stones for his past awful deeds; Fuyumi is probably the one that wants to forgive Endeavor the most in order to have a semblance of a normal family; Natsuo righteously hates him to the moon and back, and Shouto is still on the fence but willing to work alongside his father on a professional standpoint. At times, Shouto also calls him “Father”, but only in certain circumstances and very rarely. And then...
Then we have Todoroki Touya, Enji and Rei’s firstborn.
I won’t be talking about Fuyumi, Rei or Natsuo much on this post; I’ll concentrate on Touya, Shouto and Enji. They are, at least from what the narrative seems to be building up, the focus of the Todofam arc.
Let’s start with Touya, or at least I’ll write how I’m interpreting the narrative here...You can disagree, people have different ways of reading the same text.
He wants his father to go down, burn in hell, HARD. And he doesn’t really care if it takes to kill Shouto, whom he sees as his replacement, or put Natsuo’s life in the crossfire: anything that makes Endeavor suffer is justified. He even goes as far as killing innocent people and being an accomplice and supporter of terrorism, and bringing his family’s trauma and situation out in the public without their consent: one may argue it was correct to expose Enji, but in my humble opinion the approach was wrong. Touya wanted his father to suffer, without realizing or caring enough that his family may have traumatic reactions to the reveal as he did it, or may not be ready for it. He also isn’t doing it out of genuine feelings of justice, in my opinion: he’s weaponising the narration to bring down his father and the heroes.
Touya, at times, accuses Endeavor of killing the innocent people HE killed with HIS fire, because Endeavor’s grave neglect and irresponsible behavior towards his situation caused Touya to start hurting himself to the point of burning up at Sekoto Mountain, before vanishing and becoming a Villain because of, presumably, all the unresolved pain and feelings pent up inside of him.
Shouto is saved by the deadly fire embrace of his brother by Midoriya, that agrees with Touya about the fact that the past never dies, and as much as Endeavor will change, the past won’t; Midoriya admits this while saying that the actual Endeavor is trying to change, and Dabi isn’t Endeavor: which means that Dabi can’t fault Endeavor for those he killed and his uncaring behavior towards those that suffered his same trauma.
As some argued, during the war Touya is shown as an ensemble of Endeavor’s worst traits, which is important as it signifies that his behavior originates from the way Endeavor raised him.
Now, onto Shouto.
Shouto, who we’ve seen being on the fence when it comes to forgiving Endeavor, actually seems to be trying to empathize with Touya during their fight, various times, really, as can be seen by his expressions. He also takes it upon himself to stop Touya before his family reunites in the hospital and opt to stop Touya together, with Endeavor and Shouto as the focal point.
Sorry I have to go.
I will finish this tomorrow I swear--
EDIT: Expect this to be over tonight. I'm currently busy.
EDIT: I'll reblog this and complete it later.
EDIT:
Here we are once more. Sorry for making you guys wait.
As I was saying...
After Shoto extends his hand to his father in the hospital, and some months (I don’t remember how many, sry) after the press conference where the Top 3 spoke to the public, the Top Three throw themselves after Midoriya, that as abandoned UA, trying to track AFO and his followers down.
And Shouto...well, he isn’t happy, much like the rest of Class 1A: they are majorly upset and preoccupied because Midoriya is missing, but Shouto is also angered by the fact that his father is following Midoriya around instead of concentrating on how to convince Touya to stop hurting himself and others and thus STOP/SAVE HIM. This is what, presumably, Shouto and Endeavor’s goal is regarding to Touya: stop him from being hurt and hurting others with his flames, which will save him and give them a chance to repair the strained relationship.
Endeavor, Hawks and Best Jeanist’s mission to follow and support Midoriya in the meanwhile is failing splendidly: they endeavored (I’mnotsorryforthepun) in this mission because they wanted to compensate the lowering number of heroes active, hunt down villains and find AFO at the same time, all by profiting from Midoriya’s Danger Sense ability. The plan di per se wasn’t that bad, but Midoriya was going too fast for even Hawks, the fastest hero, to follow him; a reminder of why: Midoriya has a lot more Quirks than the top 3, and he was way more desperate than them to find AFO, trust me...the heroes, that also started to include Mt.Lady, Edgeshot, Kamui Woods and others, try to support him from the sidelines, but they are, at the same time, becoming a burden to Midoriya, as Endeavor recognizes before entering UA in chapter 325.
Also, the students mentored by the top 3 try to reach out to them like crazy, because they want to know what the fudge they’re doing and where Midoriya is: Tokoyami called Hawks, Bakugou tried to contact Best Jeanist and Shouto called Endeavor, without receiving exhaustive answers. Endeavor, in particular, doesn’t really want to sideline Shouto, after all they’ve been through, but when he missed the call, he was probably also feeling uncertain on how to deal with Touya, while at the same time worriyng on how to stop AFO and make sure the chaos the country is in doesn’t become worse. When he’s called to UA by Nezu and played a trick by the students who have now started figuring things out, he receives a wake-up call by his son.
Shouto makes him notice how they had told each other they’d stop Touya together, but Endeavor had sidelined him and took it upon himself to find his eldest son and Shouto’s older brother, all while making an exception for Midoriya. I don’t think Shouto didn’t understand his father was also trying to find AFO, but he also didn’t want Endeavor to ditch him and instead wanted to be included. Endeavor seems to slowly understand that the plan he and the other top heroes were following REALLY wasn’t going for the best, thanks not only to Shouto’s wake up call but to Bakugou’s words as well. If All Might, or Midoriya in this case, are left alone with the full weight of their responsibilities heavy on their shoulders, they are going to hurt themselves tremendously. While Endeavor thought that the plan was a good approach, Bakugou clearly says that it wasn’t the best one. Endeavor gives up his phone and looks to be reflecting on many things.
When the class works together to help Midoriya and bring him back to UA, he finally realizes that letting the kids convince Deku was a good idea and tells his colleagues not to intervene, for the students are dealing with it just fine.
We later see him out of the UA barrier with Hawks and Shouto, listening to the citizens screaming at Midoriya to stay away, scared for their safety and mistrustful towards the heroes; not even Best Jeanist and Present Mic can keep them calm. Shouto is super frustrated: he would love to go amidst the civilians and protect Midoriya form their accusations, “put them at ease” like his original heroic goal was. The circumstances, however, don’t seem to be his allies; he still looks extremely relieved when Uraraka takes the megaphone and finally convinces the citizens.
And, here we are to the last actual moment of the STOPPING TOUYA TO SAVE HIM narrative: Endeavor, after recognizing what exactly was wrong with the top 3 plan, looks a bit shocked when Shouto addresses him as “father”. He also look very...sad, somehow: sorry that things aren’t working out as well as he’d have hoped them to go, and that the Touya situation is still unresolved. Shouto extends a hand to him again, by saying that this time they’ll save Touya together. The thought of Dabi’s haunting eyes crosses both of them. Endeavor is probably still afraid that stopping Touya may be a burden too heavy for Shouto when he says, his face a bit obscured, “yes”.
THEORY TIME!
The narration seems to be headed towards the redemption of Shigaraki, Toga, Dabi, Endeavor and mayyyyyybe Overhaul. We know that Shigaraki’s saviour may be Midoriya, Toga’s will be Uraraka, and Overhaul’s rademtion’s factor will mainly be if Eri wants to forgive him.
Endeavor’s redemption’s weight depends on how efficient he actually is at saving Touya at this point and Dabi’s redemption will probably happen thanks to Shouto with contribution from Endeavor. To resume: Endeavor and Touya’s redemption are tied to each other, and Shouto is fundamental to help them both.
How could Hori bring forth Endeavor’s redemption without screwing over Dabi’s redemption, and not screw Endeavor’s redemtion at the same time? I’ll be focusing on Endeavor and dabi here, because I really don’t know how the dialogue between Shouto may be written.
I have no clue. Sorry I don’t. There are some viable options, like Endeavor gets kidnapped or fatally wounded while he fights Dabi because AFO is also there, and could ultimately steal his Quirk. In this case, Endeavor could be alone or with Shouto.
There is also the option in which Endeavor dies while trying to stop Touya from burning up, while recognizing his mistakes, validating Touya’s harsh feelings and accepting to burn in hell.
Frick, they could both die as they burn up, both recognizing the wrong in their ways, but it wouldn’t be really satisfying now would it?
There are so many outcomes possible, but with everyone of them i feel like something is missing. I also feel like I’m the only one that wouldn’t find Endeavor’s death outrageous because “it’s sweeping things under the rug”, or counterproductive because “it would suck for Endeavor’s redemption arc, because everyone is tired of the redemption-by-death trope”.
Endeavor’s death could actually be the best moment of his redemption arc and what makes it truly valuable, depending on how well it is written. Maybe Endeavor isn’t sitting at that table in his dream because he died, and his death actually helped his family heal and smile, because while he had changed his views in the year before his death, it’s still relieving to be free from his presence. However, Touya isn’t present at the table as well, so really...the conclusion to both of their arcs could be anything. Some may say that making Dabi die would be wrong on an ethical standpoint: yet another victim’s death, that makes victims in the real world think there is no hope out of difficult situations; yet another unfair death, because abusers deserve death and not their victims.
Let me tell you why, exactly, I think, neither of their deaths would be useful; you are free to disagree.
Endeavor’s, Touya’s or both their deaths could make the future of the Todofam very traumatic, because the family wouldn’t really manage to find proper closure.
Which is why I don’t think Endeavor or Dabi will or should die, but they will both live with consequences: maybe Endeavor will lose his Quirk, and Touya may turn on AFO and protect Shouto.
I don’t know, honestly.
Plz. help.
All I know is that Horikoshi will surely try to make the outcomes as emotional and epic as ever, so I hope I won’t be disappointed, because so far I’ve been on board with seeing where Endeavor and Touya’s journey may bring them
Anxiously waiting for the next episode, and end of this volume.
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open the door and let the flood back in (Loki & Sylvie, 1k words, just a little speculation for the end of episode 4) Rating: General Warnings: no archive warnings apply; references to mind control; very vague reference to torture Summary: Loki's awkwardness would be at least a little endearing under almost any other circumstances, Sylvie thinks, but there’s not much room for anything else alongside the numb hollowness of defeat. (A little speculation, at the last minute when it's no doubt about to be proven wrong, on what Loki might have said at the end of episode 4, other than the obvious, if he hadn't been interrupted. Spoilers through episode 4, obviously. Can be read as shippy or not.)
The nerve endings in my arms are working just fine, yeah, Sylvie almost says, but the snark doesn’t come so easily with the fake Time-Keeper’s head on the floor nearby, and that makes her pause long enough to realize that yes, there’s…something else, something deep inside the core of her magic that she’s never felt before. Something like—the recognition of a touch, or an echo, or both at once even if that really doesn’t make sense. Like she’s reaching out in the dark by instinct, and she knows someone else is reaching back.
She frowns. “Are you doing something?”
“I think we’re doing something,” he says, and now she can feel it, a flicker of suppressed excitement that isn’t just hers.
Sylvie’s eyes widen. “You are not in my head.”
“I’m not,” Loki says. “We’re just—listen, I’ve read about this. It was only ever a theory, nobody’s ever been able to do it properly, but there were scholars who suggested that two people could link their magic together, if—if their souls were similar enough, I think that was how it was discussed at the time, and create something like a feedback loop, continuously amplifying each other’s power. But strangers could never do it because they didn’t know and trust one another, let alone deeply and openly enough to allow that kind of connection, and even for people who did, mages who were lovers or lifelong friends, even if they both genuinely wanted to make the link, their magic wasn’t quite compatible. Not enough for that. A couple pairs of twins came the closest, I think, but all they could really do was boost each other’s power a little, so it was never worth the energy expenditure.”
“Because they weren’t the same,” Sylvie says. She’s pretty sure she can guess where he’s going with this.
“Two variants of the same being—we’re different people, we learned magic differently, we use it in different ways, but it’s still—the root is the same. The energy signature.” He grins. “They did say our temporal aura was the same. They just didn’t realize why it mattered. Or maybe they did, and that’s one reason they made sure only one of us could exist at a time.”
Sylvie is used to drawing power from her core and reaching out with it to take control of other minds. It’s easy enough, most of the time, because she has the process down, but it was exhausting when she was still experimenting—is exhausting, if she spends enough time fighting a strong mind or trying to control too many people at once. She pulls on a tendril of magic and feeds it into the little knot of Loki’s power, and—
It doesn’t disappear. It comes back stronger. In her mind’s eye, their magic glows brighter together, like a fire growing as it finds more to burn. “Okay, yeah, that’s new.”
“The theory was—an exponential increase for both mages. Doubling their power at minimum, like…like two wavelengths amplifying each other, or maybe a lot more than that.” He pushes power into the connection, more than she’d tried, and she can feel it: magnifying her power, which feeds back into his and strengthens it again, which expands hers in return, and they’ve barely even started.
“A lot more,” Sylvie says, staring at him, her mouth suddenly very dry. “Like nuclear fusion levels of a lot.”
His eyes gleam in the dim light. “Exactly. And I think that’s what caused the nexus event. I think our magic would have done it at the last second to save us, and I think we would’ve saved what was left of Lamentis-1 in the process.”
A burst of involuntary magic from both of them at once, at the moment that would otherwise be their deaths, doubling again and again as it passed back and forth between their joined hands—yeah, actually, she can see it. It doesn’t sound so absurd when she can still feel their linked power multiplying right now and they’ve hardly tried. “That’s insane.”
“Goes without saying.”
“We could—” She swallows. “We could do anything.”
“We could do anything,” Loki agrees.
“And do we? Trust each other that much?” she asks, but to be honest she already knows the answer. She reaches back for him, finally, settling her hands on his forearms, and his skin twitches under her fingers—like when she first put her hand on his arm on Lamentis, and he flinched like the last thing he expected was a gentle touch.
Loki’s mouth twists in a faintly sardonic half-smile. “I’m not…good with trust. Gave too much of it for a long time, maybe. And then—” He hesitates. “We might…share some memories, and I haven’t—the TVA knows what happened, I suppose. But there’s a good reason I’ve made sure nobody can get into my head again. You might see why, and it’s…not pretty.”
Okay, yeah, she can imagine a few different reasons for that and none of them are very pleasant. That flinch could hint at an ugly story too. She pulls his hands down, just far enough to interlace her fingers with his, and meets his gaze squarely. “My memories aren’t a laugh riot either. Do you trust me with yours?”
Loki squeezes her hands, just a little. “Yes, actually. You?”
She cocks one eyebrow at him. “Be a little inappropriate to say I’ll show you mine if you show me yours, right?”
He coughs out a laugh. “Maybe a little. So—do you want to try? See what kind of universe-disrupting chaos we can make?”
She tightens her grip. “Yeah. Hell yeah.”
***
[I didn't exactly come up with this idea--I developed more detail about the whole idea of magical amplification, but I know I came across at least one Tumblr post theorizing that Loki and Sylvie were about to do something that would save Lamentis, which was actually caused the nexus event and the TVA's intervention rather than them falling in love or whatever. Unfortunately I'm not actually sure who posted that, and my drafts and likes are already a nightmare, but I will make every effort to find the original post and link to it. I just really wanted to get this posted while, you know, we still can theorize.
Do I think this was actually the intent of the scene? Not really, no, although it sure would've been cool. Is it a little silly to write this when I could potentially find out in just over two hours how wrong I am? Maybe a little bit but on the other hand I finished a short fic and the whole entire point of what I’ve been writing lately is to try to finish some short no-pressure fics without letting them turn into a whole complicated thing in my head, and you know what it fulfills that purpose so I'm cool with it. AO3 link in the notes, just wanted to post it here because it’s short, it’s speculative, and Tumblr hates links.]
#loki#loki show#loki series#loki spoilers#sylvie#marvel cinematic universe#loki speculation#loki meta#my meta#kind of#I expanded on a theory anyway#loki episode 4#fanfic#occasionally I write things
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𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐥
TW: Substance abuse, underage drinking, angst, Rafe Cameron
Description: Y/N Routledge is tired of the overbearing rules and protection from her brother John B after their father disappears. One night she rebels and goes a little too wild, and JJ is left to help pick up the pieces.
A/N: I’m kinda nervous to post this... I’ve got ZERO idea where this came from, but it popped into my head. AND if we can’t tell by now, Im a sucker for a Brother best friend... Also I swear this blog has turned me into a drew stan, not that im complaining. I’m not trying to glamorized drugs or anything in this, don’t do drugs for any reason, pls. This is set before the season starts. If you are struggling with substance abuse PLEASE talk to someone professional that can help, that is the first step. I am not sure if I like this imagine or not, let me know what you think, it's definitely something different for me. As always... Requests are open.
It was only one line. No one would even notice. It wasn’t a big deal. You had been drinking all night, this could not be any different. I stood up to walk away, my nose was burning, but I felt on top of the world though, I knew that. No one could knock me down, not even John B. That’s probably why I did it. He was treating me like a child. I know I’m his little sister, but he’s not my dad. If he can go out, party, do whatever then I should be able to too.
So here I was in the basement of some Kook house. I was not sure who had brought me here. I felt alive, the rush of the drug starting to taking over. I walked back up the stairs seeing my brother and his friends. I made a quick line to the drink bar. There I found a few clueless tourons pouring some odd concoctions of drinks. I hoped I had moved away from JB and his friends without them noticing me. We were all friends really, Kie was the closest thing to a best friend that I had, but they all were overprotective of me, like John B. I just needed to breathe.
I had apparently caught JJ’s attention when I came up the basement stairs. I had downed two more shots by the time that John B and the other pogues found me. A touron girl had helped me up on the countertop to dance with her. This was not like me at all, and the pogues knew that. Drunk me was quiet and angsty, I liked to pick fights, not make people stare at me while I danced on the table. JJ looked up at me first his eyes full of worry. I quickly turned away and looked back at the girl I was dancing with. She started dancing on me, while some guys yelled and called to us. I flipped them off grabbing the bottle from her hand and drinking straight from it, earning cheers from the crowd around me. JJ jumped up on the table with me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to dance with him.
“Y/N. What are you doing? You need to calm down, come with us, lets get some fresh air?” He asked worry coating his tone.
I scoffed at him. “Really JJ Maybank is trying to kill my buzz. That’s new.” I looked around and spotted the other pogues steps away on the oppisiteside of the counter.
“I saw you leave the basement Y/N. Do you know what they do down there?”
“JJ, I was looking for a bathroom.” I lied. “Don’t baby me, you know I hate that.” I kissed his cheek before jumping down. I made sure to quickly disappear into the crowd.
The others saw JJ move toward me but he turned around knowing he lost me. “JJ. You said you had it handled!” Kie stated.
“Something’s wrong” Is all JJ said. “She said to stop babying her. She was in the basement. This isn’t like her.” He locked eyes with John B, who was seeing red.
“We need to find her if she did…” He paused closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose., “she’ll crash soon, better us find her than some kook”
I was in the middle of a crowd dancing. My vision was starting to be affected by the mix of substance in my system. I felt someone come behind me, their hand finding their way to my hips. I swayed back and forth. I felt their head dip to say something in my ear. “I know you’re a pogue, and I’m a kook and all, but I won’t tell anyone if you don’t” Rafe. It all started to make sense, he was the one who lead me downstairs, said if I was “sick of being treated like a kid” too follow him. It was all adding up, as much as it could. I turned around facing him. He looked down at me, with a look that said it all. The room was starting to spin, faster and faster, I was starting to wobble a little. I gripped onto Rafe’s arms for stability. He took that as a clue and leaned down. The next thing I knew we were making out, there in the middle of the dance floor. I didn’t feel anything for him, but I didn’t mind it, as much of an asshole he was, I knew that he had given me the coke. His hands were making their way down my body. He was practically keeping my standing. Everywhere he touched was like fire, I could feel everything, except the ground under me. Then he was gone.
I opened my eyes to see Kie staring at me. Then back at Rafe. “I guess you liked the coke a little too much.” He said to me then looked over at Kie before walking away. The room was spinning so much faster. The air seemed harder to breathe in. I was just macking Rafe Cameron. What?
“Y/N! What the hell was that?” Kie exclaimed pulling you through the house and out into the cold air. I stopped and gripped the railing that was leading to the beach. “Come on! The boys are worried sick about you!” I just stood there gripping the railing with both my hands. “Y/N”
I just held my hand up. “Can we wait for the world to slow down? It’s - It’s rotating so fast” I said leaning against the railing.
“No. Think about that next time before you take drugs from a kook” Her tone was cold as she pulled me by the wrist to the beach. I stumbled onto the sand. The boys rushing over to us when they saw Kie pulling me behind her.
“Where the hell was she?” John B was quick to hold me up, a worried look on his eyes, when I leaned into him for support. I was not breathing right. I could feel it. I tried my best to focus on the group in front of me.
“Hmm. Y/N. Should I tell them or you?” She said crossing her arms. Her voice was cold too cold. I stayed quiet. I pushed it too far. Way too far. “Well I went into that big group of Kooks, and found our friend here macking on none other than Rafe Cameron” She paused, everyone’s eyes grew wide. “But the best part is that it was payment for her doing his coke.” Pope and JJ just looked at you with wide eyes. John B moved so that you were facing him.
“You did what?” He looked into your eyes, looking for any sign that Kie could be lying. “She’s lying, right? You didn’t do that?” He shook you a little. Tears started to form in my eyes. I shook my head.
“She’s not lying.” The tears kept running down my face. I couldn’t meet his stares.
“Why?”
“I don’t know, okay?” I wasn’t lying. “I barely remember going down the stairs, much less why. I’m sorry John B”
“Whatever. We’re going home” He let go of me and I stumbled a little bit. JJ looked at me, the others following John B, just as pissed. He had a look of pity in his eyes, Great.
He walked over to me throwing one arm around my waist, and mine over his shoulder. “I’ve got you” was all he said.
The walk back to the Chateau was quiet, but the tension could be cut with a knife. When we arrived back JB mumbled something about talking in the morning if I wasn’t still a drug addict. Which I deserved for the way I was acting. Pope and Kie sat on the pull out couch in the living room, watching as JJ walked me into my room, shutting the door behind him.
“Do you want some comfy clothes to wear?” He asked. I nodded leaning against the bed. My head was starting to hurt. I had not thought of the repercussions of my actions at all, tomorrow would be hell. “Here.” He handed me clothes to change into. “I’ll turn around, but I’m not leaving, the last thing we need is you falling as splitting your head open”
I quickly changed into the sweats and T-shirt that JJ had picked out. “There are some of your clothes in my closet.” I pointed. JJ lived with JB and I at this point, he had stuff in every room of the house. He changed as I sat on the edge of the bed, messing and picking at my fingers, a nervous habit that I had picked up somewhere along the way. JJ folded the bed down and motioned for me to get in. I laid down and he started to the door. “Wait “ I said. He stopped after turning the light off. “Can you stay?” I got my answer when I felt the bed sheets move and the bed beside me dip. I took a deep breath, I was laying on my back looking up at the ceiling. “Why are you being so nice to me? I was a total bitch tonight.”
JJ rolled over to look at me. “We all have our nights. You don’t think I haven’t had my share of rebellious moments?” He chuckled. “Now I never did coke or macked on Rafe Cameron, but I had my moments, and I wish someone would have been there to keep me from thinking exactly what your thinking.” He said. His voice was soft. This is the side of JJ that we rarely saw, the side he saved for when it was absolutely necessary.
“Oh, yea? What’s that?” I asked, rolling on my side to look back at him.
“That your a screw up”
I laughed at his comment. “I mean I kinda am. At least after tonight.”
“No. I’m serious. The only one that can give you shit tomorrow is Pope, that boy is a saint.” He laughed to himself. “You know me and John B have screwed up, even Kie with her year going full-kook.” He reached up moving the hair from my face. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes?” I said with caution. We were incredibly close. I don’t know if it was the alcohol or my body, but it was nice.
“Why’d you do it?” A simple question, but one I didn’t want to think about.
“I know why I got drunk and left the group, the rest, I don’t have an answer for, it’s all a blur,” I said. I felt so bad. I felt the tears starting to form in my eyes again. As I blinked they began to fall slowly, “I guess I am sick of JB treating me like a kid. He gets to run around and do whatever he wants. I help pay for the bills, we help each other, we are equals around here. He still thinks he can control me. I love Kie, but she gets the same way like she’s my mother. I know that you all trying to protect me, I get it, but it feels like I’m being suffocated.” I let out a breath, It felt nice to finally get it off my chest. “Even you see me as just a little kid, even though I wish you didn’t.” I quickly covered my mouth. I couldn’t believe I said that.
JJ put his hands on either side of my face, wiping the tears away. “Y/N, I haven’t seen you as just a little kid, in along time.” He chuckled a little at the comment
“Wait, does that mean-”
He cut me off. “We’ll talk in the morning when you have less alcohol in your system.” He placed a chaste kiss on my forehead.
“You’re gonna have to get in line.” We both let out a short laugh before JJ pulled me into his chest.
#jj outer banks#jj maybank#jj imagine#jj fic#jj x reader#john b sister#john b routledge#obx#obx imagine#obx netflix#outer banks#outer banks imagine#outerbanks imagine#outer banks netflix#outerbanks netflix#outerbanks#kiara cerrera#pope heyward#rafe cameron#rafe imagine
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of coffees and spells. | j. wooyoung
a/n: thank you so much @fvrcore for requesting a wooyoung fluff! i tried something new but still held onto the fluff concept bcs haha i suck at angst pls jfhdj this is a long read with maybe a few inaccuracies as well. so please do forgive me! i enjoyed writing this though so i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing this! ✨💖
word count: 11k+ (idk man i lost count djfhh)
warnings: uhh inaccuracies with spells and the likes maybe, a few swears too. other than that, there isn’t anything else!
a soft sigh was slowly emitted from slightly chappy yet moist lips, courtesy of the warm tea swirling ever so gently in your favourite mug you are holding in your cold hands. your favourite blanket was draped over your shoulders while you admired how the stars and moon were hanging on the night sky above your head, shining ever so brightly. this certain time of day has always been your favourite, or should you call it time of night? ah, whatever. what matters is that you find comfort during the night.
speaking of the night, it was rather quiet, save for the sounds of the night’s wind breezing through that would make the leaves of the trees surrounding your cottage rustle every now and then, the wind chime hanging idly on the arch of your porch gently chiming by the wind as well, and of course, let’s not forget the crickets playing their songs into the night.
of course, you are not completely away from civilisation, where else could you get your basic needs if not from the town’s market? if you had a dollar every time someone asked if you lived deep within the wilderness, surely you could at least be a millionaire by now. truly, you feel amused with such assumptions being thrown in your direction. and as for money? why, you used to work in a little coffee house just a little over a month ago. from there, you worked on a lot of different pastries that ranged from sponge cakes to muffins to breads! and also from there, you had the determination to open up your own place when you have the sufficient funds.
and before you know it, tomorrow’s finally the day to open up your own little bakery in town, aurora bakery was the name you had decided. coincidentally, right in front of the coffee house you used to work in. despite being another place where one could hang out, the pressure of being possible rivals with the coffee house was not present. if it wasn’t for the coffee place, you wouldn’t have found out the love for baking. the thought of opening said shop up is already enough to make your chest bubble with excitement as the corners of your lips twitched up. that was, until..
CRASH!
‘oops!’
with furrowed brows at the sudden noise (and the voice that invaded your mind) from the inside, you looked over your shoulder to gaze through the window to see whatever the hell was making the noise. to your surprise, your little.. feline friend standing on one of the several shelves that were hung on the walls of your cottage’s living room. the contents of the shelves varied from glass bottles, to dried herbs, to jars of objects filled in them, some recognisable while some of the contents were just unknown.
following their gaze on the floor, a previously glass bottle with some type of red liquid had covered your floor. sighing, you got up from your seat and immediately went inside to clean up the mess.
there goes your peaceful night.
“leo, this is the fourth time you broke one of my potion bottles!” you hissed, immediately looking for your broom and dustpan right next to the door.
said cat merely had his tail swishing from back and forth as he blinked boredly at you, curling up into a little ball afterwards.
‘sorry, a cat’s instincts.’ the voice appeared in your mind yet again, undoubtedly from the cat friend in front of you.
“more like an asshole’s instincts.” you grumbled underneath your breath, and with a wave of your hands, the broom started sweeping the broken glass pieces into the dustpan, promptly throwing them into the almost full trash bin as you made a mental note to empty it out later during the morning.
ah, yes. potion bottles, jars of unknown objects, things in your house moving in the air by itself with a simple wave of your hands, a talking feline friend, living in a cottage just outside of town alone? there was no doubt the same answer would pop up into a stranger’s mind.
a witch.
sure, you don’t always wear black like it would be someone’s funeral every day of the year, nor do you have a long and pointy nose along with a high pitched laugh that could easily split someone’s ears. but is it really necessary to pinpoint someone as such just by those three points? oh how the stories you heard from the townsfolk with their assumptions were an eye roll or managed to make you feel amused.
times have changed, yet you still wonder as to why people seemed to still have such a mindset on witches.
so far, you are the only witch in town. surprisingly, no one has caught onto the fact that a little witch has been living near them for a few years now. you didn’t really care if someone had caught on though, there’s always a special drink you could come up with to erase that certain fact away from their minds or with a discreet snap of your fingers along with an incantation, it would be washed away.
it was understandable as to why your parents were against letting you move away from the safe haven they had created in another town you used to live in, afraid that someone would have found out about your true identity. but of course, as mentioned before, a simple spell or potion could do the trick. besides, you were sure you could handle it yourself. with enough convincing and reassurance, your parents finally let you go. and as some type of companion, your parents insisted on bringing one of your many pets from home to go with you. thus, having leo by your side.
true, you felt homesick at times, but the feeling was always washed away whenever leo would come up to your side and snuggle to you in bed, silently knowing how you felt deep within. if a huge chance was on your side, you could even go back to your old place for a little while to catch up on your parents, telling all of the interesting events during your endeavours.
speaking of visiting, you had made a mental note to visit them as soon as possible, wanting to tell them about the little bakery you are about to open.
‘it’s late, young lady. stop thinking too much, you’re being too loud.’ a grouchy voice interfered with your thoughts, knowing full well who it belonged to.
with a roll of your eyes, you made your way to the bathroom to do your nightly routine of washing your face, brushing your teeth, and burning the incense you had made earlier in the afternoon, sighing in content once the sweet smell of roses had wafted into your nose as soon as you got comfortable in bed.
slowly, you let the soft sound of the rustling leaves, the soft chiming from the wind chime, and the crickets of the night lull you to sleep, getting enough rest before the big day tomorrow.
❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀
“one, two!” you heaved pulling out the last tray filled with chocolate filled croissants out of the huge oven, walking out of the kitchen to the front of the bakery with leo balancing himself on your shoulders.
‘you’re a witch, why are you going through this?’ grumbled leo.
“you seem to think that it would be easy for me to use my powers in broad daylight where half of the town could see.” you retorted, walking over to the glass display so you could place the freshly baked pastries next to the other ones.
“plus, i don't see why you are complaining considering you're just watching me.” you added.
you didn’t bother to answer the cat’s next complaint, merely pulling him off of your shoulders to let him rest on top of the counter. a satisfied purr resonated against the feline’s neck as your fingers scratched behind his ears. smiling proudly to yourself and placed both hands on your hips to marvel your hard work of the day. you had spent most of the morning just decorating the empty spots of the bakery, baking the treats, and wiped the tables clean. nodding faintly, you decided that it was time.
it was time to flip the sign to ‘open’. with that, aurora bakery is officially open for business!
while expecting for customers to hopefully smell the scent of freshly baked goods attracted them to your little bakery, you grabbed your broom and started sweeping away the dried leaves just outside of your bakery as if to busy yourself a little more without having to bore yourself waiting (another part not wanting to bicker with the annoying feline in your bakery), and occasionally greeted the few townspeople that recognised you. pausing slightly in your sweeping to wipe away the thin sheet of sweat that had formed on your forehead with the back of your hand, it was only then you noticed that another pair of eyes was watching you.
there, in the coffee house in front of your bakery, you noticed a raven haired boy leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. an unfamiliar face to you, could he be a new resident of this small town you lived in?
with the short sleeved collared shirt he wore, you could faintly make out what seems to be a tattoo on his arm but with the distance, it was difficult to make out what it was. his wavy hair was parted right in the center with a dark ebony colour that reminded you of the sky just last night. his eyes, though half-lidded, held some type of cheekiness in them. however, his appearance wasn't the one that caught your attention. the male’s aura for some reason was rather… different yet familiar? if that could even make sense. true, he had a mysterious air around him though he radiated another energy that you can't quite put your finger on.
'it's rude to stare, young lady.’
blinking a few times, you glared down at the furball sitting next to your legs, partly embarrassed that you were caught staring and partly wanting to turn the cat into one of those fortune cat dolls you see every time you were in a family restaurant around town. leo only stared up at you with an unamused expression then to the male just in front of you. following his gaze yet again, you turned to look at the boy but instead, he already turned on his heels and walked further into the coffee house with both hands tightening the strings of his apron around his waist.
“i wonder if he just moved in, haven't really seen him before.” you mumbled before feeling a slight tug on your dress shirt, immediately catching your attention to look down.
a little girl with two high pigtails stared up at you with her huge eyes, one hand on the fabric of your shirt while the other tightly held a stuffed bunny close to her side. she looked to be about six years old. you smiled gently and kneeled down to match your height with hers, tilting your head to the side in question.
“hey, cutie. what can i do to help you?” you spoke, tone all soft as if you were afraid to scare her away.
with sheepish eyes shifting over at your face then to her shoes, then back to you, she held out a ten dollar bill, causing you to confusedly blink at her actions. it took the girl a few more seconds before parting her lips to speak.
“i smelled something really nice from your… bread house and, and i have money that mommy gave me earlier, and can i buy something with this?” she asked.
internally, you were about to combust at how adorable with the way she was talking along with the fact that she had called your bakery ‘bread house’. you were happy to say that having a cute girl as your first customer managed to be the highlight of your day so far. nodding your head, you stood back up on your feet and held out your hand for her to take.
“of course! why don't you come inside and see what interests you, little one.” you cooed, melting on the inside at how she carefully took your hand in her own smaller one as her features brightened up out of happiness before the both of you walked back inside, leo trudging shortly from behind.
you watched as the little girl looked around the bakery in awe, no doubt amazed at the various treats on display, before running towards the ones that were in the large glass case. kneeling down once again next to her, you couldn't help but to release a chortle that bubbled in your chest.
before you know it, a couple more townspeople had visited your little bakery. hopefully, things are looking up. with a huge grin on your face, you stood up on your feet, getting ready to assist the customers.
“welcome to aurora bakery!”
❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀
you hummed to a soft tune as you kneaded the dough, leo napping on top of the shelves in your bakery’s kitchen. thankfully, his so-called cat instincts didn’t push the jars of flour and spices that adorned the many shelves. had he did so, you swear you would make him take your place instead of you. you didn’t realise how much time has passed as you were too focused on assisting the customers that walked into your bakery, along with cleaning the tables, and of course, continuing to refill the trays with your treats. though, judging by the rays of crimson slipping through the thin curtains hanging above your windows, you made a random guess that it was near late afternoon.
as soon as you placed the dough into the oven to let it bake and went to wash your hands from the excess dough sticking on your skin, a quiet ‘ding’ from the bells hanging on your door signified a customer had walked into your cafe. wiping your hands on your apron with a quick fix of the crescent shaped clip that threatened to fall off of your hair, you made your way out to the front to greet the said customer.
“welcome to- oh.” you accidentally let the words die off in our throat. really, you didn’t mean to.
standing in front of the cashier, you were met with the same cheeky eyes from before staring into your own. it was the boy from the coffee house! with his elbows resting on top of the counter, you could finally see that the tattoo on his arm was in the shape of, what looks like, a fox, a snow fox to be specific. you also noticed the little mole just underneath his eye. like before, you once again felt the familiar yet still unfamiliar energy surrounding the male. odd.
“well, hello, miss baker.” he greeted, simpering at the way you had paused in your steps.
his voice was soft, catching you off guard yet you remained a calm demeanour. it wasn’t bad at all. the tone reminded you of… of milk coffee warming you up during a rainy evening. you didn’t know if it made sense but if you had to mean it in another way, it was just… soft. shaking your head to finally get it together, you sent him a polite smile as you walked closer to the counter.
“ah, you are the boy from the coffee house. how can i help you?” you asked.
leo as if he could hear you, suddenly appeared in your peripheral vision as he jumped onto the counter next to you and gave out a soft purr as you scratched behind his ears. his eyes stared at the tattoo that was inked on the boy’s skin with intrigue. the boy smiled down at your feline friend and switched his gaze to yours.
“well, i thought i would stop by and say ‘hi’. i haven’t really seen you around before, the town’s baker at that.” he replied, quirking a brow up.
“now that you mentioned it, i’ve never seen you before. are you perhaps new around here?” you asked, tilting your head to the side ever so slightly.
the question made the corner of his lips stretch further into a grin, you could faintly make out how the apples of his cheeks looked fuller once he did so. as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you knew that deep down he looks rather cute.
“i guess grandpa didn’t tell you his grandson finally took over his coffee house once he retired, huh?” he chuckled, straightening up to shove his hands into his denims.
the look of realisation already says it all, much expected from the male with how he let out another chortle. sure, you had heard from the old man in the coffee house telling you stories about his grandson during the time you were still working there. though, the said boy never once visited. it ranged from whatever he did as a child to him during the years of growing up. however, you failed to learn the fact that his grandson would be the one taking over the coffee house. or the fact he finally retired. much less, so soon. what you clearly remember, was the name the old man had mentioned a few times.
“you must be.. jung wooyoung?” you said, though the way you had worded it coming out as more of a question.
a look of surprise was etched onto the male’s face before it softened, holding one hand out to point at himself.
“the one and only. and you are..?” he trailed off, you catching up immediately.
“i’m y/n, y/n l/n.” you introduced, a huge grin plastered over your lips.
“it’s nice to meet the baker. i guess we will run into each other more often than not, eh?” he grinned.
“you say that as if i even have a choice to open up a bakery someplace else.” you mused, causing the male in front of you to release a hearty laugh.
you noted at the high pitched laugh he had, finding it contagious as you can’t help but to find yourself chortling along. despite the aura around him, you would have to say that his presence was rather warm.
“so, how can i help the town's, um, new coffee maker for today?” you asked.
‘i don’t know, his taxes maybe?’ leo’s voice interrupted, making you discreetly pull at his tail, just enough for him grumble, ears twitching as he looked up at you. honestly, someone is in need of a cat nap rather than the one working back and forth in the bakery all day.
“ah, it would be rude to stay and not have anything, no?” wooyoung replied before his irises looked around the bakery, only stopping at a certain treat as he pointed towards the cinnamon rolls.
“i’ll have two of those, miss baker.”
“coming right up!”
and with that, your nimble fingers made a quick work of placing the treats into a little box before placing a little cat sticker as a seal so that the treats wouldn’t fall out of the box. satisfied, you gave the said male his treats, promptly thanking him once he paid. it was when your fingertips brushed against one another that you felt a sudden chill down your spine.
could he… no, he can’t be.
“thank you for this, y/n. in return, why don’t you come to the coffee house once you’re free?” wooyoung winked, a certain glint shining in his irises as he spoke.
“h-huh? oh yeah, sure, definitely!” you said, still recovering from the chilling sensation down your spine.
and with that, the boy turned on his heel to walk out of the bakery. though it seems normal, something had caught your eye.
the exact fox tattoo had moved from its place on his arm to the back of his neck, its eyes blinking over at you.
quickly rubbing your eyes with the back of your hands, the fox on his nape was gone. were you dreaming?
‘young lady, your bread’s gonna burn in the oven!’ leo called out, making you quickly turn to rush back into the kitchen to take the bread out of the oven.
you are the only witch in town. you were certain of that.
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that night in the grassy field right in front of your little cottage, you were hunched over in front of your cauldron, hands idly stirring the ladle into the concoction while your eyes had read over the instructions of your spellbook. as usual, leo was balancing himself on your shoulder blades. despite him being an annoying (and grumpy) ball of fur, he surely knows what or what not to add to whatever you are currently doing.
with a few trials and errors, along with you and leo bickering, and some ingredients being tossed in, the dark navy mixture swirling in your cauldron lit up. at first it was rather dim but after a few more stirs in the mixture, the light grew brighter and brighter while the concoction started to bubble up. you had to shield your eyes once leo told you to back away from the cauldron, a ringing sound resonating throughout the area. you could hear liquid gurgling and some type of low thrum filling the silent night. once you were sure it was safe to open your eyes, you carefully moved your palm away from your face to look at your result. upon doing so, your eyes widened.
in front of you, stood a large mirror-like object just on top of the cauldron. the huge smile on your lips along with your tense shoulders relaxing, it was safe to say that the little experiment you tried out worked. there, you could see your parents standing with your reflection. your mother had an excited grin on her brims while your father, though with an emotionless expression, the twinkle in his eyes gave it away.
“y/n! you have finally gotten the hang of conjuring up the spell your father taught you.” came your mother’s cheerful tone.
‘yes, without my help little witch right here would’ve summoned up a flame thrall by accident.’ leo responded, his own reflection had him curling his tail around your mother’s leg.
“not impossible. let’s not forget the time where y/n had forgotten to add a heart stone before spawning up a wolf familiar. the whole house was a huge mess trying to make the wolf go back to its realm.” your father mused, much to your embarrassment.
see, you didn’t have any problems with casting illusion spells, nor did you have any trouble in the restoration spells as well. but for some reason, conjuration spells were a bit of a difficult task for you. you remembered the time where you accidentally conjured up a one eyed troll instead of a pixie at the age of ten. it was a good thing your father was around to immediately petrify the troll before it could squash you with its giant club, and dismiss it back into another realm. let’s just say that you were grounded with a month’s worth of studying ingredients for potions after that incident.
“i thought we didn’t need a heart stone.” you grumbled.
“you don’t need it if you want to make your wolf guardian a worthy opponent.” your father deadpanned, causing you to pout over at him, leo snickering at you.
“all jokes aside, how are you, my dear?” your mother’s soothing voice came through, immediately reminding you of the main reason why you had decided to call them in the first place.
“i’ve been alright, mother. i’ve even opened up my own bakery in town right in front of the old coffee house i used to work in!” you said, thumbs twiddling with each other.
while your mother was delighted that you’re doing well, your father was rather quiet. eyes as sharp as a hawk, your father noticed your movements. from the years of watching you grow up and having to deal with you trying to hide away the little mischief you had caused since you were a mere toddler, he couldn’t help but to release a low chuckle.
“is there something else we don’t know?” your father suddenly asked, causing you to flinch slightly in place.
“n-no!”
“y/n..” he said sternly, causing you to sigh out of defeat, shoulders deflating.
“father.. how do you know if another witch is around you?”
the pair in the mirror-like portal looked at one another upon hearing your question then back at you, your mother moving to place her hands on your shoulders.
“are you safe, my child?” your mother asked, though she was a mere… ‘illusion’ through the mirror, it felt as if your mother really was there enveloping your entire frame as the familiar sweet fragrance she usually wore while you still lived them wafted into your nose.
“yes, i am safe, mother. i can assure you that.” you spoke softly.
“it’s just that.. the grandson of the owner in that coffee house took over. old man had finally retired.” you added, your parents merely nodded, making you continue as they were listening intently.
“he seemed pretty nice, though he had an.. aura that seemed to be intriguing. no one else in the town has that certain aura but him.” you continued.
“are you sure you will be alright, y/n?” came your mother’s worried tone, your father holding her hand.
“our child is a strong one, i’m sure y/n can handle it.” he reassured. your mother, on the other hand, merely stared between you and your father before releasing a low sigh.
“alright. just remember to cast a ward spell around your place whenever you sleep.” she said.
‘no need, she has been burning her self-made sages for a while now. might say that it’s quite useful.’ leo said, mewling up at the older woman.
it was when the light in the mirror somehow started to grow dim, indicating that the remaining time you had with your parents was slowly coming to an end. your parents, seeing the same thing as well, took a couple steps back from you, their hands intertwined with each other’s.
“it’s time for you to sleep, my child.” your mother said, you noticed how her eyes became a tad glossy. your father held her close to him and rubbed a hand on her arm reassuringly. the sight in front of you was enough to make your throat clench.
“we wish you well in your endeavours, y/n. stay safe, and good luck with the bakery.” your father said.
“take care of her, leo.” he added, the cat merely bowing his head and blinking slowly.
and with that, the object shone brightly once more, making you take a few steps back upon hearing leo telling you to do so with an arm covering your eyes. the familiar ringing noise was heard and then, silence surrounded you once again. you took your arm away from your eyes and saw how the cauldron from earlier laid idly on the grass, the fire you had prepared earlier was put out. taking a deep breath as you felt a slight rush of emotions, you went to pick up the cauldron, and the spellbook.
‘it’s late, young lady. we have another busy day at the bakery tomorrow.’ leo mewled, rubbing his body against your leg.
with a gentle smile, you leaned down so the cat could climb on your shoulders once again, purring as the two of you made your way inside the cottage so you could get started on your night routine before sleeping.
for some reason, a fox with fur as white as snow visited your dreams that night.
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it has been a few weeks now ever since your little bakery opened up. you weren’t exactly that popular nor was the bakery completely deserted of customers as well. you had your fair share of busy days, some days you had to even go for a quick run to the town’s market to get the ingredients that you had run out of. though, you weren’t complaining. you loved working at the bakery. something about seeing the people having their expressions brighten ever so slightly as soon as they took a bite out of your treats would always make you feel giddy on the inside.
and sometimes, when you really have to use it, you would quietly whisper an incantation or two to someone’s treat whenever you see them struggling with their day upon stepping through the doors of your bakery. your eyes holding a jovial twinkle once you see the happy expressions on their faces once they took a bite out of the treat.
“alright, time to close up.” you mumbled. and with a couple claps of your hands, the broom floated in the air before making its way towards your outstretched hand.
with that, you started to sweep the tiled floor and the daily routine of cleaning your bakery. whenever you did tricks like these, you made sure to keep it on the down low, only using it when you were really sure no one could see you doing so.
“good evening, miss baker.” wooyoung greeted, making you cease momentarily of picking up the empty trays for the day, mentally thanking yourself that he didn’t walk in just in time to see the floating broom.
ah, yes, jung wooyoung. it is no doubt that he is the old man’s grandson, alright. everyone in town loves him, saying his humble and bright personality reminded them of his grandfather, though with added snarkiness to it. but of course, they were all lighthearted.
on your days of not working in the bakery, you would find yourself spending time in the male’s coffee house. honestly, you weren’t a huge know-it-all when it came to coffee. all you know is that any type of caffeine being consumed by you will make you stay up all night. wooyoung was the one who would introduce you to the types of coffee he had in the place. from the weakest one to the strongest one, though you still can’t make any difference from them considering that it would still make you stay awake.
the two of you shared a similar bond for sweet things though. whenever you came to his coffee house, you would make sure to bring cinnamon rolls when he mentioned that your cinnamon rolls were really good during the first time you hung out at the coffee house. and just how you would bring cinnamon rolls to his place, the raven haired boy would make sure to bring two coffees (one of them with the appropriate amount of caffeine in them) during your break time.
it was during those hangouts the two of you grew closer but for some reason, you still couldn’t figure the unknown aura enveloping the male, the thought still gnawing in the back of your mind. and the snow fox tattoo on his arm.. it reminded you of the dreams you had been getting frequently now. you swear that sometimes you could see it staring at you with its fluffy tail swishing and curling around wooyoung’s neck. either that or you just really need to get your eyes checked.
or ask your mother if there was some type of restoration spell to fix your eyesight.
“well, if it isn’t, coffee boy. coming over for our daily hangouts again?” you replied, wooyoung following you to your kitchen to help with carrying the trays.
the boy leaned against the faux marbled counter crossing his arms. since he was wearing a long sleeved pale green shirt, the fox tattoo was hidden underneath it. as much as you were irritated with the fact your eyes could play tricks on you because of the damned fox tattoo, you would have to admit that you would find yourself admiring the details of his inked skin. sometimes you would catch yourself wanting a tattoo yourself but you were a little nervous around needles, unfortunately.
“ah, i can’t today sadly, i need to check the ingredients back home.” he replied, you looked over your shoulder with an eyebrow raised up.
“ingredients for..?”
“for my poti- ah!” the sudden squeak that left his lips was enough to make you turn around in alarm, wondering if he had hurt himself.
there, you see wooyoung aggressively rubbing his tattooed arm with his eyes glowering down at the fox tattoo. your eyebrows creased in confusion at the sight, was his tattoo still hurting him? surely that can’t be the reason. his head lifted up so your gazes could meet at once you asked if he was alright, you noticing the way his pupils were shaking as if he was nervous about something.
“oh yeah, i’m okay!” he quickly responded, hiding his arm behind his back.
“you were saying..” you continued as you placed the washed trays away, leaning against the sink.
you had expected that wooyoung would answer your question but instead, he walked closer to you. closer and closer. your eyes widened ever so slightly at his actions, leo on the shelf had his tail all fluffed up while his pointy ears flattened over his head as if preparing to pounce on the male if he planned on doing something to you. though you were nervous, you had kept a calm composure while reviewing all the protective incantations in your mind, or if that failed, you were ready to kick him between the legs.
you were about to cast a spell on him when the male held his hand up until you felt him picking softly at your hair, near your star shaped hair clip, then took a few steps back, showing you the pieces of dried batter that somehow managed to get on your hair.
“you got something in your hair there, miss baker.” he spoke softly, his expression softening up.
“also, i meant to say the ingredients for the coffee house. some were running out in the place already so i needed to check if i still have some at home.” wooyoung added smoothly.
“ah, that’s alright then. i guess i’ll see you tomorrow?” you asked, still trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart from earlier.
“yeah, see you, miss baker!” he bid then turned around to walk away, leaving you slumped against the sink.
‘what the hell was that?’ leo exclaimed, tail swaying from side to side.
“don’t ask me, i’m as stumped as you are.” you sighed, pushing yourself off of the sink and looked around the kitchen to see if there was any more cleaning to do until your eyes landed on a certain box filled with cinnamon rolls.
with a sharp gasp, you grabbed the box and quickly made your out of the kitchen. you hoped that you could at least catch up with the raven haired male yet as soon as you stepped out, emptiness greeted you instead. your eyebrows furrowed as you walked directly outside of your bakery, looking around for wooyoung but he wasn’t there. you crossed the cobbled street and peeked through the windows of the coffee shop, still nothing. the place had its lights turned off, even the kitchen.
“how the hell did he walk so fast?” you grumbled, walking back inside.
oh well, maybe you could just give it to him tomorrow. for now, you had a bakery to close.
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“thank you, come again!” wooyoung’s voice rang throughout the coffee house, sighing in relief as he bid goodbye to the last customer for the day before his hands untied the tied strings of the brown apron around his waist.
“today’s a little busier than usual. don’t you think, yuki?” he mumbled, rolling up his sleeves to see the fox tattoo on his arm.
on his skin, the snow fox tattoo on his arm slowly uncurled itself from the tight ball she was in before yawning then wagged her fluffy tail happily, a clear indication she was content. how wooyoung managed to hide his enchanted tattoo from the public’s eye was astonishing, knowing full well how foxes could be sneaky and full of mischief, whether in tattoo form or not. if wooyoung could have a dollar every time yuki would disappear from his arm and ended up in a different part of his body, he could be a millionaire. though the idea was pleasant, it also made wooyoung scold her since someone could see her easily. but of course, he couldn’t stay mad at her for long. she was too adorable for her own good.
and being the only witch in town (or so he thought) wooyoung needed to be extra careful as well.
honestly, wooyoung never felt the pain of being inked. being a witch himself, he just managed to conjure it up on his own skin and enchanted it so it could move by itself. hence, the reason why yuki would often move from place to place on his body. sometimes even jumping out to grow into a full size snow fox once she wanted to stretch her legs and not be stuck on skin. and knowing how the fox had so much energy packed in her, yuki would sometimes visit wooyoung in his dreams just to have an extra playtime with the male. though, when she’s feeling cheeky, she tends to jump to someone else’s dreams, someone who wooyoung would think occasionally before falling asleep.
drying the last coffee mug, wooyoung looked over at the bakery on the side of the street. his eyebrows furrowed at the sight of your bakery’s lights were still on. normally, you would close earlier than wooyoung’s coffee house every saturday and sunday since the both of you knew the town wasn’t as busy on weekends.
“she’s still at the bakery. wanna go check up on her, yuki?” the raven haired male said, looking down at his forearm, smiling at the sight of his companion hopping in circles excitedly.
locking up the coffee house, wooyoung made quick strides across the street to reach your bakery. peeking through the windows, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion that he couldn’t see you, instead your lights were still on. curiosity got the best of him and soon, wooyoung found himself inside. the smell of pastries still lingered in the air as soon as he entered the place. everything in the bakery looked normal, nothing out of the ordinary. that was until he walked into the kitchen, a sharp gasp leaving his lips at the sight.
your broom was floating in the air, not only that, it was sweeping by itself. wooyoung had to rub his eyes immediately to make sure they were not tricking him, maybe he even drank a lot of coffee to the point where he’s hallucinating things. however, those ideas were thrown out the window once he saw that the broom was still moving by itself, lightly tapping against his foot as if indicating him to move over so it could sweep over where he was standing, to which made him quickly move away.
his irises looked around the place before they landed on one of the many shelves that hung on the kitchen walls, a familiar glass bottle with some type of golden liquid filled in them to be exact. to someone’s eyes, it could easily be mistaken as a bottle of honey but does honey radiate a bright yellow light?
swallowing thickly, so many things were running through his mind. but all answers already pointed to one thing.
“wooyoung!”
with wide eyes, the male spun around, almost falling on his own from how fast he had moved. there, you stood in front of him with leo on your shoulders, both of your eyes were wide as you realised the broom was still moving on its own. with a quick snap of your fingers, the broom stilled by itself and fell idly on the floor.
“l-listen!” you started, heartbeat rising as your hands started to get all clammy as you were caught.
“...a witch.” was the first thing wooyoung had said.
silence hung over the both of you. it was so quiet that it was almost deafening.
your mind was racing with all the possibilities of what wooyoung could do when he found out about your true identity. you wanted to use the incantation to him forget what he just witnessed yet your throat felt constricted, as if someone was clutching on your vocal chords so you just stood there in front of the raven haired male who stared at you with his jaw dropped. once you felt a little confident, you shakily reached a hand up, about to snap your fingers as you whispered the incantation.
“wait, wait! i’m happy that you’re a witch too!” wooyoung interjected quickly, knowing full well which spell you were about to cast.
wait.. too?
“what..?” you whispered, the hand lifted near your face dropping to your side.
the surprised face on wooyoung’s features slowly melted away at the realisation he had, replacing it with a relieved yet jovial expression. you, on the other hand, stood there, the idea of being found out and having to move away from the town when you just started your own business was still lingering in your mind.
by now, the two of you were seated at one of your tables, as what wooyoung had suggested so that the two of you could talk. it took a couple of times for wooyoung to reassure you, yuki even jumping out of his arm as she attempted to help her owner comfort you, nuzzling her head against your hand. leo was on the counter of your cash register, sharp yet curious eyes watching the snow fox grow from a mere ink to a full sized snow fox.
although finally calmed down, your head was still in your hands as you tried to get a hold of the things that had happened.
“so, what you’re saying is.. you’re a witch too? does that make the old man a witch too?” you said, lifting your head to look at the male who only smiled sheepishly in return.
“well, grandpa is just a normal human. though, his wife is the one who is a witch, which she passed her powers onto my mother.” he reminded you.
it all made sense now. the unfamiliar aura that gnawed in the back of your mind, the countless times of you wondering if your eyes were playing tricks on you from the fox tattoo on his arm, the way he apparated in thin air that one time when you wanted to give him his cinnamon rolls, and how you saw the exact fox popping up often in your dreams.. things finally fell into place.
“god, the things that are happening..” you groaned, resting your forehead on the faux marble table of yours.
wooyoung could only laugh, and turned his head to the side as he watched leo and yuki chasing each other around the bakery. he felt the weight on his shoulders slowly being lifted off. relief was what he was feeling, relieved that he at least found someone the same as he was. his eyebrow quirked up once you suddenly straightened up in your seat, a look of realisation hitting you.
“you mentioned how the fo-”
“yuki.” he corrected.
“right, yuki, would visit someone in their dreams right? and that someone is someone you were thinking about before you slept?” you said, wooyoung nodding his head in confirmation.
“...does that mean you were thinking about me?” you asked.
wooyoung choked on his spit, the apples on his cheeks turning into a faint shade of pink before abruptly standing up from his seat, promptly calling yuki, who immediately scrambled up to the male and spun around. a bright light shone briefly before it disappeared, going back to being wooyoung’s tattoo on his arm.
“i-i need to head home, i’ll see you tomorrow, y/n!” he announced, making his way out of the bakery.
“wooyoung, wait!” you tried to catch him but like a little while ago, he was quick to apparate away.
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“well, aren’t you glad that you finally found another witch friend, my child?” your mother said.
you had decided to conjure up the mirror like portal once again, you wanted to talk to your parents about what you had just recently discovered. no, you had to talk to them. though, you were relieved that you had found a fellow witch in town, the idea of being caught still scared you.
“with how he found out about you, i really should say you need to be careful next time, y/n.” your father said.
despite the strictness laced in his tone, he was genuinely concerned about your safety. and he was right, someone could have easily found out. you had to admit that it was your fault for letting the broom move by itself, thinking that no one would have walked in since, well, it was your own kitchen. your head hung low as you emitted a groan, hands coming up to rub your face. you were thankful that it was wooyoung who had found out, a fellow witch just like you.
“i think that also solves the little mystery revolving around the boy, doesn’t it, my dear?” your mother said. you could only nod your head, lifting your head to send your parents a little smile.
“i trust that these things won’t happen again, y/n?” your father added.
“of course, father. i will be more careful next time.” your parents’ expression softened up at your small promise before the light around the mirror had once again grow dim, indicating that you needed to finish your conversation soon.
“do tell me how the progress goes between the two of you, y/n.” your mother teased, effectively making your cheeks heat up before whining out of protest.
“mother!”
with one hearty laugh coming from both of your parents, along with a final wave of the night, you knew what was coming up next. shutting your eyes, the ringing grew loud in your ear before it finally died down, letting the silent night to envelope around you and leo, who was already fast asleep next to your legs. rolling your eyes, you gently picked him up in your arms along with your cauldron and spellbook before making your way back to your cottage.
your eyes were staring at your reflection through your dresser’s mirror while brushing your hair, rewinding the events that had occurred earlier in your bakery, and the hasty explanation wooyoung had mentioned once he sat the both of you down. but.. a particular fact lingered in your mind.
‘what exactly do i have to do in your mind, wooyoung?’ you thought.
‘for the last time, go the hell to sleep. your mind is too loud.’ ah, of course, the one and only grouch just had to interrupt.
what a sourpuss.
with a shake of your head, you switched off the lights and made yourself comfortable in your bed before finally getting that much needed sleep.
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“miss, can i, can i buy a cake? it’s for my mom, it’s her birthday today!”
your eyes looked down at the chubby hand sliding the crumpled up dollar bills along with the shining coins on top of your counter, making the conclusion it had been kept for quite a while now.
standing in front of your counter (though you had to lean a little to have a good look at the child), it was the little girl from the very first day of you opening up your little bakery, pigtails and all. you bit down on your lower lip, heart clenching at the sight of her puppy-ish eyes. you didn’t have the heart to tell her that she had enough money to buy a whole cake. instead, you knelt down to her height and asked if she knew what her mother’s favourite treat in the bakery was.
“oh, she loved your mini chocolate croissants!” the girl chimed, pigtails bouncing as she excitedly hopped in place.
“alright, how about i give you the croissants instead?” you offered.
with a gentle smile, and a pat on her head, you straightened up and rushed around the bakery to pack the croissants into the little box, not forgetting the cat sticker to seal the little opening so it wouldn’t fall. you also placed the box into a white paper bag so the treats won’t easily fall out of the girl’s hands.
a soft cheer made its way out of the girl’s lips, taking the bag in her chubby hands before thanking you as she made her way out of the bakery. following the retreating figure, it was only then you noticed a certain raven haired male leaning against the doorway with two cups of coffee in his hands.
it had been a few days after the incident in the very back of your kitchen, you were awkward and cautious during the next day of meeting but wooyoung never gave up in trying to convince you that everything was fine, and that no one would find out about the both of your identities. as per usual, he would always bring you your coffee whenever it was your break time. sometimes, you would even sneak a little incantation in his cinnamon rolls to make his day a little better whenever you saw how his face held a frustrated expression, most likely dealing with a stubborn customer.
and ever since then, wooyoung was willing to wait for you to close up your bakery, yuki playing with leo. it was a surprise that leo was actually getting along with the fox considering how the two were polar opposites of each other, both physical and personality wise. he even managed to communicate through wooyoung’s mind now, sometimes having wooyoung laugh out loud from the cat’s snarky comments.
“one iced latte for our lady.” he grinned, handing you the cup of said drink, you gratefully taking it in your hands.
“our?” you chuckled. in response, wooyoung merely eyed his arm where yuki was spinning in circles.
you couldn’t help but coo at the snow fox, whispering softly underneath your breath so only you and wooyoung could hear, “hi there, yuki.”
“i was wondering..” wooyoung suddenly started, making you look up, tilting your head as you urged for him to continue.
“do you wanna go somewhere? after you close up, i mean.” wooyoung asked.
now that he mentioned, you had never really explored much of the town as of late considering how you would busy yourself in the bakery, and only went straight at home so you could finally rest or work on your spells and incantations (mostly conjuration spells). with a wide smile, you nodded your head.
“i don’t see why not. a little break from the bakery won’t hurt.” you chuckled.
the sheepish grin had appeared itself over wooyoung’s lips, making the apples of his cheeks grow fuller by the action. you won’t lie, it is an endearing sight.
‘i heard that.’ came leo’s voice, causing you to snap your gaze on him while wooyoung confusedly looked over at the cat who was busy licking his paw.
“what is he talking about?” the boy asked.
your cheeks flushed a faint shade of crimson after hearing the question as you waved a hand in a dismissive manner, mentioning how it was just random thought you had.
‘a random thought thinking that he has a.. ‘cute’ smile, young lady?’ leo snickered.
you could only glare at the feline while wooyoung snapped his gaze from the cat to you, the confused expression on his face melting away and instead, was replaced with a sly grin.
“you think it’s a cute smile, huh?” he teased, causing you to groan before grabbing your broom.
cue a loud yowl coming from the cat as you chased the cat around while wooyoung laughed his high pitched laugh at the entertaining sight.
“i guess both our companions know how to embarrass us.” he grinned, immediately catching you in his arms as you were about to run past him once again.
“i swear, one of these days i’m gonna turn that cat into a dog instead.” you mumbled.
it was only when wooyoung’s cologne wafting into your nose had your attention, looking up once you had calmed down from the brief chasing around. sure, you had always smelled wooyoung’s cologne whenever he stopped by but being so close to him like this, almost made you never want to leave his arms. it was if you were slowly growing intoxicated by his scent.
“y/n?” wooyoung called.
“huh?” you blinked, breaking out of the trance.
“i said i needed to go back to the coffee house so i’ll see you later?” he asked once again, amused at the slight dazed look glossing over your irises.
realising what he meant, you immediately pulled away from the embrace, almost whining at the loss of warmth around your frame. hugging the broom close to your chest, you faintly nodded.
“yeah, i’ll see you later, wooyoung.” you waved as the male made his way out after bidding goodbye, though not without sending a wink at your way.
“don’t miss my smile too much, miss baker.”
“jung wooyoung!”
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“and that’s the last of them!” you huffed, placing the clean tray into the many racks.
with both hands on your hips, your eyes glanced around the kitchen to make sure there weren’t dirty trays or utensils in your kitchen. once satisfied, you untied your apron and hung it over the little coat rack in the corner before heading out, making sure you didn’t forget your keys. from the last specks of crimson painting the nearly black sky, the night was about to greet you once again.
true to his word, wooyoung was already waiting for you. he sent you his bright and cheeky grin upon seeing your figure walking out of the bakery, making quick strides to stand next to you as you locked the main entrance of the bakery. once he saw that you were done he held out his arm, glancing at both you and leo who, as usual, rested on your shoulders. sometimes he wondered how your back doesn't hurt from the amount of times leo would climb on you.
“ready to go?” wooyoung asked, looking down at you. with a link of your arm around his, you nodded.
though what happened next, nearly made you want to cling onto the male next to you. you had expected for a walk in the park or something similar. not apparating into thin air and quickly arriving at - you squinted around before realising where you were, the town’s old watchtower. the balcony of the watchtower to be more specific. though, no one has ever set foot here in over three years now since the town had a new one on the other side.
with the way you were practically hugging wooyoung’s arm, he made a short conclusion that this must have been your first time doing so, or rather, you not being used to it. leo was already off of your shoulders, calmly licking his paw as he balanced himself on top of the railing. yuki, on the other hand, was napping so she didn’t join leo this time. gently placing his hands on your shoulders, wooyoung leaned his face down to look at your face, concern painting over his own features.
“you okay?” he asked.
“s-sorry, i was just not expecting that, is all.” you mumbled, giving him an embarrassed smile from the sudden confession. once you were sure you were steady on your feet, your gentle eyes stared at the scenery from the balcony.
you knew that the town was beautiful, but seeing the town where most of the lights were turned on along with the moonlight illuminating the calm waters of the sea right next to it, the stars shining ever so brightly on the sky’s dark canvas. the scenery was absolutely breathtaking. once the night breeze brushed against your skin, the strands of your hair slowly dancing to their own rhythm from the gentle blow of the wind, you shut your eyes and took a deep breath. instantly, the smell of the ocean filled your senses, making a soft smile to curl itself over your soft petals.
wooyoung, who was leaning against the doorway of the entrance, couldn't help but admire the way the moonlight kissed your skin, the night breeze blowing against your strands, and the peaceful expression you held. over the months of getting to know you, he somehow started to develop feelings for you.
how could he not when you looked at peace in your kitchen baking the treats whenever he stopped by? how could he not when your expression brightens every time a customer complimented your treats? how could he not when soft laugh that sounded so melodic in his ears whenever he told his lame jokes or his embarrassing childhood stories. no, this was not some kind of puppy love or a short crush.
jung wooyoung has fallen for you.
he had spent nights trying to think of other things and not you before falling asleep, knowing how suspicious you would get if yuki frequently visited your dreams. sometimes he would even charmed your drink of the day to give you an extra burst of energy to get through the remaining hours of your day after seeing the tired look on your face. he knew that you would slip the little happiness potion into his cinnamon rolls yet could only pretend that he didn’t know, not wanting you to ever stop.
taking his eyes away from you briefly, wooyoung looked down at the palms of his hands before his eyelids fluttered shut. his lips moved as a hushed chant left his lips, slowly a faint pink smoke started to form on his palms but he was not done. half lidded eyes stared at the smoke in his hands before they were clasped together. with pursed lips, wooyoung gently blew into his hands.
there, laid a single rose in his previously empty hands. looking up at you, who was still occupied by the night view of the town, he cleared his throat, calling your name to catch your attention.
the surprise expression on your face upon seeing the rose in his hand was enough to make the male release a low laugh, walking over to where you stood. with the rose being held out, wooyoung stared at your face.
“wooyoung, what’s this?” you inquired, though you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks.
like wooyoung, you had your fair share of sleepless nights as well. but rather than thinking of other things, the boy in front of you managed to crawl into your mind every now and then, sometimes you would even find yourself zoning out while stirring whatever concoction you wanted to create, only snapping out of it once leo had called your attention or swatted at your hand.
before you could even realise it, you developed feelings for the raven haired male as well.
how could you not when he loves making you flustered by watching you with gentle eyes as you bake? how could you not when he would come by your bakery to give you your coffee while the two of you talked about the current highlight of your days during break time? how could you not when he would cheekily sprinkle a tiny bit of flour in your hair by levitating the packet above your head just to gain your attention? how could you not when his laughter sounded so endearing?
you, too, had fallen for jung wooyoung.
“from the months of meeting and getting to know you, i knew you had something that intrigued me. i have always thought that you were a normal townsperson, never a fellow witch like me.” wooyoung started, face perking up as soon as he saw the way you playfully grimaced after remembering the time he had found out your true identity.
“before i know it, the intriguing feeling was replaced with admiration, thinking i only admired how you managed to keep a calm demeanour whenever you had to face a stubborn customer, unlike me. but i was wrong.” he trailed off, feeling his heart beating fast as his words were caught in his throat.
as an attempt for him to calm down, you silently reached out for his free hand and laced your fingers in his. your reassuring smile was enough to let him know that he could take his time, gathering his words. once ready, wooyoung gave your hand a gentle squeeze as he continued.
“the nights spent thinking about you, having our own little break together, and seeing you walk through the doors of the coffee house just to give me the cinnamon rolls… i knew that i have fallen for you.” he curled a stray strand of hair behind your ears as his warm irises stared into your own, letting his hand resting against your cheek.
“so, y/n l/n..” he called out your name, making your heart beat rapidly in your chest.
“will you be mine?”
you didn’t answer right away, merely wrapping your arms around wooyoung’s neck as the corners of your lips stretched themselves into a huge grin, nodding your head. “yes, a million times yes.”
laughing out of pure relief, wooyoung hugged you tightly against his frame, your chin resting on top of his shoulder as the two of you stayed in each other’s arms, slightly swaying in place. it was when he pulled away that made you look up, your faces mere inches away.
“may i kiss you?” he asked softly, eyes trained on your brims.
“you may.” you whispered in return.
the two of you stared at each other for a few seconds, slowly feeling your faces drawing closer. closer, and closer, until the gap was finally closed with your lips pressing his own. he tasted like coffee, while wooyoung could make out the faint taste of cinnamon on your lips. his hand slowly came up to cup against your nape, moving your lips together in a slow yet synchronised dance. it seemed that everything else didn’t matter as the both of you were in your own world.
to wooyoung, this was better than any potion you had snuck in his cinnamon rolls.
❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀
“babe, where did you put the new coffee mugs?” wooyoung called out, looking through the cabinets.
“ah, i washed them. i thought that was what you wanted to do as soon as they arrived.” you said, poking your head out from the kitchen.
it had been a few months that the two of you had finally gotten together. before you know it, your first anniversary is just a week away! during the first couple of months, the two of you went on dates frequently. it was to be expected considering the two of you would see each other on the daily. sometimes you would grow embarrassing from the flirty winks being sent at your way by the male, no matter how long you had known him.
just recently, or rather, a couple of days ago. the two of you had decided to sell off your bakery and instead, started your own shared coffee house together in wooyoung’s place, now naming the place as ‘utopia’. he was in charge of the coffee orders while you were busy with your pastries. sometimes, the both of you would teasingly cast harmless jinxes on each other as you worked, creating a small war that consists of spells and potions. of course, the two of you were careful to not let anyone else see it.
occasionally, the male would stay over at your cottage. the first time he visited, he was gushing at almost everything in your place. even admiring how peaceful the place was whenever night falls. the frequent visits only met that wooyoung had an excuse to give you his shirts or sweaters, saying how you looked absolutely adorable in his clothes. it was when your closet was almost full of his clothes that the two of you had decided to just live together in the small cottage of yours.
to your surprise, he had insisted on wanting to see your parents. which you let him do so. once the male and your parents had met, your mother was delighted to have finally met him while your father kept a stern act, causing your mother to whisper that he should be nice. of course, with the amount of times wooyoung would talk to your parents (which was whenever he stayed the night), your father slowly opened up and would even crack jokes with wooyoung.
knowing that the cottage was a safe haven for you, wooyoung would often teach you about the conjuration spells along with enchanting. he had noticed the awed expression on your face every time yuki had switched back into her tattooed form before asking whether you wanted a tattoo as well. your reaction of mentioning how you were scared of needles amused him, you glaring at him in a sulky manner in response. without much thought, wooyoung reassured you that you didn’t need needles for this.
so here you are, standing next to wooyoung greeting the customers that walked into the coffee house before taking orders, the tattoo that consisted of your favourite flowers adorned your wrist, making it look like a makeshift bracelet. occasionally, the flowers would change into a flower following your emotions.
“love, what do you wanna do for our anniversary?” wooyoung asked, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressed his lips on your shoulder.
you couldn’t help but to emit a light chuckle turning your head slightly to give his cheek a kiss, humming in thought. “dinner at the cottage, how does that sound?”
nodding at the suggestion, wooyoung grinned, eyes twinkling with excitement. “sounds good to me.”
with a final kiss on the tip of your nose, your lover unwrapped his arms to greet another customer who had walked inside the coffee house, you immediately walked to stand next to him.
you were, no, are content. you are content living in a small cottage with your lover, you are content working in a coffee house with wooyoung, you are content with everything life has to offer as long as you are with jung wooyoung.
#ateez#ateez writing#ateez fanfic#ateez au#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez fluff#ateez reactions#ateez reader insert#ateez x reader#ateez fantasy au#ateez oneshot#ateez wooyoung#jung wooyoung#jung wooyoung scenarios#kpop#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#colly's writings
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A Review of SWTOR
So, not too long ago, a pair of friends (frenemies more like) of mine were playing SWTOR... and suffice to say they would not shut up about it. I’d always been aware of the game in the back of my mind, but it had never really appealed to me. MMO’s don’t really, as I would always be worried about random players sticking their nose in whilst I was trying to keep to myself.
Still, my friends would not shut up about it, and they kept recommending it to me, despite my internal aversion to it. Now, considering that they had both foolishly taken my advice on games to play in the past, I decided to return the favour and give SWTOR a chance.
And boy was I glad I did. Is SWTOR a good game? Yes... and no... and yes. It’s not perfect, it’s got problems, but it’s still a lot of fun, and I’m glad I’ve done at least one playthrough of the game.
Upon loading up I of course had to choose what storyline I wanted to follow. Since both of my buddies had gone Jedi Knight, (though I’d argue that a certain someone made their Jedi about as deplorable as Anakin) I decided to be the awkward one and went Sith Inquisitor instead, and honestly... I think I chose perfectly!
Oh and... for those interested... here is my Inquisitor:
His name is the Sixteenth Brother! What’s his backstory? Well... that depends on who you ask! Some say he’s the 16th sibling of a Zabrak family... others say he chose the name to hide his true one. Some even say he’s a time traveller from a distant future sent back in time after accidentally finding a Sith relic in his time. Whatever the truth is matters little. All that matters is that he was great fun to play as.
Oh and for the record, this review is based on a Free To Play experience and completion of the class storyline only. I’ve not touched the expansions yet, but intend to at some point. Any criticisms I have that are solved by subscribing are a moot point. Furthermore, it goes without saying but all of the below is my own opinions of the game. Doesn’t make them right or wrong.
The Good
There are many good things about SWTOR, almost too many to name. That said, there are some things I’d like to highlight.
The Story
The first and foremost best thing about the game is of course, the story. Being a Bioware written game created at the same time as the Mass Effect trilogy, I expected a good story... and I was not disappointed by the tale of the Sith Inquisitor. It was the standard tale of a protagonist coming from lowly origins, in this case a slave, and advancing up the ladder of society. Nothing too revolutionary, but add in the Sith and the Empire and it was made all the more better. Frequently, poor 16th Bro would get hounded for being an alien, and each and every time he’d beat the odds, and then usually show mercy to those who had insulted him. (I played him mostly light side... though there were a few times I surrendered to the dark and zapped people)
The world building within the story was also top notch. Plenty of detail is hidden away in the codex, much like Mass Effect, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t stuff in the actual gameplay and story as well. I’d never really been a legends fan, and whilst I’m still not, I do see why a lot of people love these sorts of stories. I was invested, and that’s what mattered.
Outside of the Sith Inquisitor, the very fact that there are seven other unique storylines and classes to play, as well as heavy character customization and role play more than make the game worthy of revisiting. There is a little bit of something for everyone it seems.
The Characters
Another great strength of Bioware games is usually it’s characters, especially the protagonists companions. I can happily report that, at least for the Sith Inquisitor, the vast majority of the characters in the story were great.
The three standout characters outside of the Inquisitor to me were Khem Val, Ashara Zavros and Talos Drellik.
That’s not to say that Andronikos, Xalek, Zash and Thanaton weren’t good characters either, I just didn’t enjoy them as much as Khem, Ashara and Talos.
Each character felt like they had their own arc. Khem Val growing to accept you as a Master and true successor to Tulak Hord was great, even if he and 16th Bro were constantly disagreeing about 16th’s methods. Despite his dislike of the decisions, I still sided with him when the time came to choose who got to control his body for good.
Ashara going from “I’m a Jedi and I won’t go against my teachings!” to “Peace is a lie!” was good development as well. I understand that some people don’t like this character much, but she was my go to companion most of the time. She’s not quite a Sith, but not quite a Jedi either, and that made for a perfect companion for the 16th Brother, as he was hardly a model Sith either.
As for Talos... well... he’s an archaeologist and a historian... and I’ve got a degree in history... so of course I was going to love him! Plus he was eccentric as all hell and added a nice voice of humour to the crew. His personal story about him trying to find his old mentor and carry on his legacy was heartfelt too.
As for everyone else, I was invested in their characters, don’t get me wrong, just not as much as the others. Both Zash and Thanaton were good villains that I took pleasure in ending, and Andronikos and Xalek got their fair amount of use on the field and in the ship. Everyone was friends at the end after all.
The Voice Acting
The other good point I’d like to highlight is the voice acting, particularly that of the male Sith Inquisitor. I’ve heard people say the female voice is better, but for my experience the male Inquisitor was the perfect match of sass and sarcasm. It made every scene with him in enjoyable to watch. RPG games were a single protagonist can get a bit boring sometimes. Commander Shepard suffers from this in Mass Effect at times. I never got that feeling with the Inquisitor though. He was hilarious from the second he stepped off the shuttle on Korriban and sassed Overseer Harkun (who I totally zapped to death) to the moment he took his seat on the dark council with a surprised Pikachu look on his face.
So yeah... super credit to Euan Morton for making the Inquisitor the dark master of sass and sarcasm!
Outside of the Inquisitor, I can say that all the other VA’s did a great job too. I can’t think of any character that had particularly bad voice acting off the top of my head.
Other Good Stuff
Outside of the three things I mentioned, SWTOR also has plenty of content to offer for everyone. If you want to do main missions, sure! Side quests? Sure! Space combat missions? Yep! Whatever you fancy, it’s there. There is no shortage of content to enjoy for hours on end, even as a Free To Play player like I was.
The Bad
And now to most likely upset some people... sorry about that, but no game is perfect, and SWTOR has some flaws that could put people off playing it. This stuff is by no means a game breaking deal for me, but it did annoy me and I felt like it needed addressing.
The Game is Tedious
My biggest complaint is that at times, usually after an hour of playing, the game can become tedious and boring to play! There were times it felt like a chore honestly, and I hate saying that because SWTOR is a good game.
The main reason for it feeling so tedious though comes down to how you move around the maps. When you can, fast travel is your best friend and can save a lot of time, however, not everywhere has a fast travel point near it.
This is where speeders come into play. You can buy one for a reasonable amount of credits, and they are faster than walking for sure, but not by much.
The problem with the speeders is that it is so easy to get shot off of one by one of the random enemies you are trying to drive past (and believe me there are hundreds of them!) that is becomes aggravating to move around the map from objective to objective. Avoiding enemies isn’t hard for sure, but sometimes you have to go right past them, and after hours of fighting enemies it can get a bit tedious being shot off your speeder in one shot just because you didn’t want to waste time fighting an enemy. Once you hit your level cap, fighting random enemies is pointless after all.
Maybe that’s just me though. I’d personally make the speeders a bit more durable. One tiny shot shouldn’t disable your speeder. Heavy fire... sure! Doesn’t help that sometimes you can tank a bunch of shots on your speeder and escape without being knocked off, but then on another occasion you’ll be knocked off by a sneeze.
Either way, movement around the maps can get annoying as all hell, but at least the scenery is pretty.
The Planets
Now don’t get me wrong, I like all the planets I went to... mostly... and my issue isn’t with the planets in general.
It’s with how bloody long it takes to complete them all.
The Story Arc quest lines for each planet can take forever sometimes and they end up going on a bit too long if you ask me. Alderaan and Hoth are the two that come to my mind the most. It felt like I spent weeks on those planets driving back and forth between areas to do simple tasks for little reward. Plus the sheer number of side quests didn’t help. I stopped doing everything that wasn’t a story or Arc quest once I hit Hoth!
Don’t get me wrong, I like side quests for sure... I just don’t like them to drag on forever! In a lot of ways, SWTOR reminds me of Mass Effect Andromeda. That game too also had side quests that went on forever.
My one piece of advice to nay new players for SWTOR would be to ignore the side quests and focus solely on your class story quests and planet Arc quests instead. If you try and do everything, you’ll burn yourself out quickly. Unless you are a completionist of course. In that case go nuts! XD
Other Bad Stuff
Aside from my two big gripes above, which are honestly minor in reality, the only other issues I really have with the game are the boring side objectives in some missions. Nine times out of ten they equate to ‘kill a bunch of dudes’. They are easy enough to complete, as you’ll be killing things anyways, so you don’t really need to put any real thought into completing most of them. They just feel tacked on and rather pointless honestly.
The Ugly
And now the ugly stuff. This is stuff that is between good and bad. Bad as in they annoyed me, but good as in I understand why others like them or they improved over time.
The User Interface
Oh god the UI! When I first started the game it was so overwhelming! Pop-ups everywhere! Hundreds of tabs and side bars and tutorial boxes being spammed my way. It was not friendly to a new player who had literally just jumped in. If I hadn’t played games like Civ or XCOM in the past I might not have been able to cope with how much stuff was going on at once.
Luckily, after a few hours of play, I began to understand the UI a bit more and became comfortable with it. I knew what was where and what did what, as well as what I didn’t need. (any PvP stuff for example) Plus the ability to edit the interface to your own liking helped a lot as well, so it wasn’t a complete lost cause, just overwhelming at first.
Flashpoints and Heroic Missions
So, these missions are designed to be played with other players online, clearly. They can be done solo, but they take forever to do so. Endless hordes of high HP enemies, including even higher HP boss fights is not that entertaining to me, and thus very quickly became boring to me. Artificial difficulty in a way. Plus if you do die, it ain’t half a pain in the ass to get back to where you were, only to find that boss that had 5% health left when it killed you is now back to 100%.
I gave up doing these sorts of missions and have no intention of returning to them unfortunately, which is a shame as some of the flashpoints have actual important story content in them.
Still, if unlike me you actually have friends to help you with these, then I get why you like them, and more power to you. I just don’t enjoy them much.
The Soundtrack
And now to really upset some people. Look... I like John Williams music scores as much as the rest of the fandom does. That said, there were places in SWTOR where it showed up and really really did not work! It almost felt like the game was just spamming random iconic tracks that sort of fit the scene, but really didn’t.
The biggest one for me that didn’t work was the final duel against Darth Thanaton in the Dark Council Chambers. During the cutscene between the two fighting, the music started on ‘The Final Duel’ from ROTJ when they were fighting, and they suddenly it shifted to the theme from Padmés funeral when Thanaton was overpowered! I mean, I get what they were going for with the music, but the sudden shift between tracks was unceremonious and didn’t work. If they were going to use licensed movie music then they should have just chosen one track and stuck with it rather than jumping between two!
Furthermore, to me those themes were written for specific scenes in their respective movies, and thus were created to fit those scenes, not random SWTOR scenes. If anything, the entire scene should have had it’s own score written for it rather than just reuse movie tracks instead!
That said, whenever the game does use original music that isn’t from the movies, it’s fine! The ambient background for the planets is great, Alderaan’s especially, and I hated that planet! They clearly had the talent of music directors to write Star Wars sounding music, so I don’t fully get why they didn’t just go with original music all the way rather than just reuse John Williams music instead. I don’t know if they didn’t have enough money or something. If that was the case then I’d understand.
So yeah, the music is a 50/50 for me. The original music is great. The movie music is still great, it’s just not used right.
Other Ugly Stuff
WASD controls. They aren’t game breaking, but I’m not a great fan of them. They make my wrist hurt. I adapted, like I did with the UI, so it’s not really a big issue, but I know it could put one or two people off playing it.
Another minor gripe is a consequence of the game being an RPG within an MMO. Other players are running around, often doing the same objectives as you. They can steal your objectives before you, forcing you to wait around for them to respawn so you can do them yourselves. Luckily there is usually other stuff to do in the meantime, and the re-spawn timer is smallish, so it’s not a huge problem. Just an unfortunate consequence.
Conclusion
So... would I recommend playing SWTOR to people? Yes! I would. It’s a good game, even with it’s flaws. I had a lot of fun running through the Sith Inquisitor’s storyline, and I learnt a lot about the game for any future playthroughs I do. I know what to expect now and what to stay away from, so hopefully whatever class I choose to do next will be full of less annoying little things.
That said, considering how long it took me to do the Inquisitor’s story, I feel like I’m gonna need a serious break before I can play another class. I was almost burnt out when I finished the Inquisitor, and I’ve still got the two free expansions to go!
So yeah... all in all, SWTOR is a good game,. I’d recommend it, and I’m glad I gave it a fair chance. It’s not in my top 10, but it’s one to return to. :)
So, if you’ve ever thought about trying out SWTOR before but were apprehensive about it, then I’d encourage you to give it a shot. It is free after all! Unless you subscribe. But you can at least try it for free! Bonus I say! XD
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