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writingtoforgetreality · 3 years

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Faking To Pretend (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Request: cathy cathy cathy here i am with another request *sigh* i cant help myself your writing is just too good

i was wondering if i might request a steve rogers x reader fic where maybe reader and steve are paired up for a mission and have to pretend to be married (undercover) and some thing happen to kind of force them to admit their feelings for each other (maybe one of them gets injured? or kidnapped idk you do what you want to 😂) anyways LOVE YOU SO MUCH ❤️❤️ (by @msmarvelsmain), [Marvel-Masterlist]

Summary: Fake engagements, wedding plans & an undercover mission that jeopardized your well-being in the blink of an eye. Throughout it all, you somehow had to hide the fact that your feelings for Steve were just friendly, nothing more.

Words: 8,610

Warnings: language, angst, fluff, humor, argument, brief mentions of drugs, undercover mission (engagement & wedding plans), female pronouns used, that's pretty much it

[Mimi…this happens when our ideas get mixed up. LOVE YOU TOO!]

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

The familiar sound of a notification emanated from your phone. You deposited the book you had been immersed in onto the mattress & replaced it with the device. It confused you for a second when you noticed Tony being the one to message you. After all, you were literally in the same building.

Stark: meeting in 5.

(Y/N): you do know that you could tell me in person, right? just knock or something.

Stark: you’re too far away.

(Y/N): two doors, stark. TWO!

Stark: meeting in 4.

(Y/N): i hate you.

A loud sigh escaped through your lips. Typical Tony. Two could play that game. You planned on arriving right in time, not earlier. Maybe a few seconds too late. Anything to mess with him. At least he could get a taste of his own medicine that way.

“You’re a minute late.” Tony commented when he watched you walk inside the room. Your arms crossed over your chest as you leaned your shoulder against the door frame.

“You’re lucky I came in the first place.” you remarked. “Besides, I’m the first one here. Mission alone?” you questioned, raising your eyebrows while expectantly waiting for his answer. It was not usual for you to go alone. Except if the mission concerned grabbing pizza from the place down the block. You hoped for him that he did not pull that card, though.

“No but I wanted to discuss it with you before the others- oh, never mind.” Tony stopped talking when three more figures entered the room, brushing past your frame without paying too much attention to you. Sam. Bucky. Steve. What a damn combination. That was your team? Well, good luck. Everyone got seated on the chairs circling the big table but you stood your ground in the doorway. Steve patted the free chair next to his side, eyes flickering up to yours. A silent invitation you politely declined by shaking your head but you made sure that he could detect your small smile. Tony did not seem to mind & went straight ahead into explaining the mission you four had to perform. Most of the time, you zoned off though you really did try your hardest to stay focused. But when you glanced between the men in the room, you already knew the chaos that would come with them.

Basically, the team came across a signal emitting from the back of a small shop. From what you knew so far, it was some sort of a database that saved a whole lot of criminals. Some of them who you had fought in the past & some of them who you had never heard of but they sounded incredibly dangerous nevertheless.

“Question.” one of your hands raised & you waited for them to look at you.

“Go for it.” Tony pointed over to you, letting out a low breath because you were behaving as if you were in class & needed permission before speaking up.

“Why do Steve & I have to be the ones engaged?” normally, you would not care about undercover missions. But when said mission had you teamed up & fake-engaged to Steve? Well, you had a hard time separating work from personal feelings. Not that anything was going on between you guys but you would not lie if you said that you wanted to change it.

“What, do you want Sam & Bucky to be the couple in question?” Stark, in return, asked another question & you rolled your eyes.

“No, of course not.” that earned you disagreements from both, Sam & Bucky. Steve simply sat by, chuckling quietly while observing your conversation quietly.

“And Steve & you are close. It’ll be easier for you guys to pretend.” Tony casually stated & you had to fight the urge to avert your gaze. If you did, they sure as hell would realize something being wrong with you. And you were not about to be embarrassed in front of them. Maybe you already were but at least they did not know about it. After all, you were a fucking great actor.

“Uh-huh.” so you played it cool. As cool as the situation allowed you to be. “But why do we need Laurel & Hardy with us then?”

“Because I said so.” Tony used your most hated phrase & he damn well knew it. After a short pause, he turned a bit more serious again. “They’ll be Steve’s best men.”

“Wait.” your hand raised & you closed your eyes for a second. “Steve has two best men & I’m not allowed a maid of honor?” now everyone inside the meeting room was chuckling. Everyone but you.

“Pretty much, yeah.” Stark shrugged, brushing it off as nothing though he was aware that you were annoyed by his plan already.

“How is that fair?” you could not stop asking questions, somehow hoping that if you continued, you could get out of this successfully. Deep down, it was clear that the mission had been planned & you could not do anything to change it. Not even a single thing.

“It isn’t.” Tony admitted with a brief nod of his head. “But you’ll need Sam & Bucky on this one. So stop bitching around.”

“These are gonna be some long ass days…” you mumbled, putting your face in your hands in frustration.

“Enjoy!” & with that, Tony dismissed you, leaving you behind dumbfounded.

Sam & Bucky exited the room soon after. Steve & you were the only ones left.

“(Y/N)?” Steve’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Immediately, the frown was replaced by a genuine grin. You found yourself in this state whenever he looked at you like that. Whenever he talked to you, actually. “Everything okay?” his eyes showed concern. They usually did when he noticed you zoning off.

“Huh?” you asked before the words had processed. “Oh, yeah. Of course.”

“I’m sorry about.” his hands gestured wildly, searching for the most suitable words. “The mission being uncomfortable for you.”

“No, it’s not uncomfortable.” you tried to explain yourself. “Just, sometimes I feel like Stark just wants to mess with me.”

“Well, if it helps cheering you up…I’ll behave.” he winked at you playfully & you hated how your body reacted to such simple movements.

“I’m sure you will.” you snickered. “My true worries are your best men.” a sly smirk spread onto your face & Steve could not hold back a chuckle.

“Yeah, I can’t control them.” he agreed with you. “I’ll see you around.” he walked past you, turning around one last time. You simply nodded at him, not trusting your own voice. While you handled the situation as best as you could, you wanted to avoid an awkward goodbye. Besides, you would set out first thing in the morning. You needed some alone time before shit started going down. Not that you expected this mission to fail. The exact opposite, actually. The four of you worked incredibly well together. Compensating other’s mistakes & improvising fast if needed. Mostly, though, you ended up straying from the actual plan & that was what had you worried. Because if you did not stick to it, things could turn real uncomfortable real quick.

As if the mission itself was not demanding enough, the car ride to even arrive at your destination was ten times worse. Steve was behind the wheel & you were lucky that you occupied the passenger’s seat & did not have to sit in the back with either Sam or Bucky. They were children, really. Right now, it felt like Steve & you were the parents of two incredibly challenging kids who could not shut their mouths. Not even for a second. Steve succeeded with ignoring them & he was concentrating on the road so that gave him another thing to do. You, on the other hand, were stuck without any distractions except for the bickering that was currently going on in the backseat. But you knew better than to interrupt them because if you did, it would only turn worse. So you took a few deep breaths & settled further into your seat, closing your eyes to maybe rest a bit before your arrival. What you did not notice was Steve glancing over to your figure, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he recognized you attempting to sleep during the stress inside the car.

At least the hotel Tony checked you in was worth it. Fake-engagements had their perks. Especially if a luxurious suite was a part of it. Sam & Bucky were somewhere in another room but Steve & you, the two of you pretty much occupied an entire floor. That was how huge your room was. You did not even have to carry your own suitcases. There was an employee who helped you with that. What a nice way of living that was. If only you were not pretending. But why were you even thinking that way? You had a mission to perform & more importantly, you could not fail. And you would not if you solely focused on your task. It could not be that hard, right? You had done something similar multiple times before. It should be an easy one for you. But it was not. And the main reason was Steve. It was wrong of you to put the blame on him but how could you not if you literally had to pretend to be his fiancée? It felt like a secret wish you did not dare to voice. And yet he was here right in front of you, in the same room. A place you were supposed to share for the next few days. And you somehow had to play it cool. There was only one outcome. Burying your feelings deep down in order to not jeopardize the mission or your team. No matter how much your heart protested.

“(Y/N)?” you heard Steve’s voice as you were stepping out of the shower. Only a towel was covering your still wet body but you feared that, if you did not open the door right away, you were in danger somehow. That was your mind’s conclusion. Which really did not make any sense if you gave it a second thought. You opened the door a crack, risking a glance outside & eased when you only saw Steve on the other end. It was a natural reaction for you to push the door open wider. But you kind of forgot that you were not wearing any clothes except for that poor excuse of a hotel towel which was way too small for your liking. Steve’s eyes widened & he could not stop from letting them flicker up & down your body. You squirmed under his stare, arms coming to cross over your chest in order to keep the fabric in place. A few moments of awkward silence ticked by & you wanted it to end. So you coughed & gained his attention once more. His eyes were locking with yours & while you usually lost yourself in them, you were way more comfortable than having him eyeing your every part in great detail.

“You needed anything?” you stuttered out, hoping your voice did not sound all too weak but even to yourself, you were aware that you were failing.

“Um, yeah…” his cheeks turned rosy. One of his hands came up to scratch the back of his neck. “But I probably should’ve waited a couple minutes longer.” he should have but it was too late now anyway.

“If it’s nothing too important then I’ll go get dressed real quick, alright? I’ll take like two minutes.” you attempted an honest smile but it was underlined with a hint of embarrassment that was definitely detectable. Steve simply nodded, stepping back a bit so you could close the door once more. Your back rested against the wooden surface & you quietly sighed out with closed eyes. That was not what you expected. Fingers crossed nothing between you two would turn awkward from now on. But then again, he was your best friend & it was not like you were completely naked. Just barely dressed but covered enough so he did not see anything. You would be just fine.

With a decent outfit & regained confidence, you exited the bathroom & found Steve sitting at the edge of the bed, looking down at his hands where he shifted a small package between his fingers. His head snapped up when he heard your footsteps. You two exchanged a smile & it was then when you knew that your shamefaced encounter would not change the bond you shared. It was as if everything was the same old. And it was probably for the better.

“Was that why you needed something from me?” you gestured to the little box & Steve was brought back to reality. Right, there was a reason why he wanted to talk to you in the first place.

“Tony gave it to me right before we left.” he stood up & approached you with long steps. “Said it’d be more believable if you wore one.” Steve stretched out his hand so you could take the black package from him. With curious eyes & delicate fingers, you took it from him. Your eyebrows raised as your eyes met his but he only shrugged at you without giving you an actual explanation. Carefully, you uncapped the box & were shocked when you noticed the small, sparkling ring inside. The colors of the rainbow reflected in the diamond adorning the silver jewelry. It looked way too expensive for it to be a fake one.

“Tony wants me to wear an engagement ring?” you asked even though it was more than obvious. Maybe you just needed reassurance.

“Makes it more believable.” Steve repeated.

“It probably cost more than what I’ll earn in a lifetime.” you chuckled & closed the lid again.

“So you’re not gonna wear it?” he questioned cautiously. For a flicker, he turned insecure because maybe the reason why you refused to wear it was because you did not want people to believe he was your fiancé.

“Of course I’m gonna wear it! It’s stunning. Just…” you paused briefly & bit your bottom lip to contemplate your next words. “It’s expensive. I can’t risk losing it. I’ll put it on whenever we’re outta this room, though. I won’t be the one blowing our cover.” you assured & laughed because you were indirectly blaming Sam or Bucky to mess up. Steve silently agreed with you but did not say anything else as you situated the ring on the nightstand right next to the large bed. It was late, the moon already doing its job with providing a pleasant light that shone through the blinds & illuminated the gloomy suite. For tomorrow’s mission, you needed to be well-rested to fully function.

Steve insisted that you should occupy the bed on your own. He would be perfectly fine on the couch. The cushions of it were incredibly soft, Tony had paid a fortune after all, you still felt poorly for sleeping in the bed alone. Tomorrow would most likely bring him back pain. He was not the youngest soul, after all. Not that you would ever tell him. It was not meant as offending, though. If you were the one on the couch, your back would kill you as well. But you were too much of a coward to suggest that there was enough space for two people. That & you were scared that he did not even want to share in the first place. That could be an intelligible possibility. Your overthinking consumed quite a bit of time because when you heard Steve’s soft & even breaths, you knew that you were too late already. Maybe tomorrow? Maybe you could gain enough courage to ask him tomorrow. Why were you even so eager to have him beside you? What kind of question was that? You were very well aware why. The conversation you held with yourself in your mind came to an abrupt stop as exhaustion overcame & lulled you into a dreamless night.

Constant knocking stirred you awake. You groaned into your pillow because you were still tired but someone decided to shorten your rest. Assuming Steve was already up, you peeked over the blankets covering your body. You were right, he was opening the door. Appearing like he had not just got out of bed. Or off of the couch, in his case. Steve tried to be as quiet as possible, thinking that you were still passed out on the bed.

“G’morning.” you mumbled out & wiped your eyes with the back of your hands. Steve smiled at you. Right now, you looked cute. Pissed off because it was too early but that did not matter when you were all wrapped up in the blankets.

“Coffee?” he suggested & you immediately got into a sitting position at the mention of it. He had his answer then.

“Wait. What is this?” you gestured to the serving trolley Steve was pushing over to the bed. It was obvious what it was but you were bewildered because you did not expect him to order breakfast.

“Tony took our undercover mission very serious.” he shrugged, leaving the food next to you & wanting to grab a few things to eat by the table.

“No.” you shook your head & halted his movements. “I mean, come on. When was the last time you had breakfast in bed?” you patted the spot next to you. Steve paused for a second but after a short while of contemplation, he agreed & got seated on the mattress. Breakfast in bed. That itself would have been amazing but with Steve? It was almost as if a dream of yours got fulfilled. You needed to stop thinking that way. Undercover missions meant faking, pretending. Why were you struggling so much this time?

“I look like a bitch.” you commented once you got into your undercover outfit. Sam & Bucky were already in your suite & they complained about what a poor excuse their room was compared to yours.

“So what’s different?” Sam joked & earned a slap from you.

“First of all, if we don’t wear what Tony prepared for us, people will notice. And (Y/N)? You don’t look like a bitch, you’re good.” Steve commented & even though his words were not necessarily cute, they still did things to you.

“Woah, Steve. Nice ring you picked out there, pal.” Bucky spotted the diamond on your finger & could not help himself but tease you two about it.

“Could we all just focus on the mission?” funny thing that you were the one saying that. Considering that you probably struggled the most out of the four of you.

“Okay, got it. (Y/N) doesn’t look like a bitch but she acts like one.” Sam smirked & started sprinting through the suite when you took off to catch him. Steve & Bucky shook their heads & chuckled at your childish behavior. None of this was new, though. Things usually went that way when you were sent on a mission together.

“The signal comes from the back of this shop.” Steve whispered, all of you trying to stay undetected for the time being so you could discuss the plan further.

“It’s a pastry shop?” you pointed out & suddenly, three men were rolling their eyes at you. “What?”

“You expected something that sold knives?” Sam teased.

“Maybe, I don’t know.” you whisper-yelled.

“Sam, Bucky. You two enter the back while (Y/N) & I distract the guy.” Steve described your plan once more & you all nodded, each understanding their task. While you did not exactly know what you would do to grab the clerk’s attention, you were certain that you could think of something. Improvising was something you were skilled at, you simply hoped that Steve would not stand in the way.

“Welcome! What can I help y’all with?” the almost sweet voice of the man behind the counter was not what you would expect when you looked him up & down. At the same time, he really appeared out of place in a shop like that.

“Yes!” your enthusiasm, well fake-enthusiasm, was more than obvious & you wrapped your arms around Steve’s torso to get into character. “My fiancé & I are looking for some pies for our upcoming wedding.” Steve let you do the talking, his only response being a nod, underlined with a genuine smile.

“Ah, young love.” the guy clicked his tongue & shook his head slightly. “We have a variety of our best wedding cakes right here.” he pointed to a selection behind a class cabinet.

“No, no, no.” you contradicted. “We’d love to have pie at our wedding. I saw you have some delicious looking options over there.” you gestured to the other side of the shop.

“Pie at a wedding? Isn’t that a little unconventional?” the seller raised his eyebrows, seemingly suspicious & it looked like Steve noticed that as well.

“I think we’ll do fine with cak-“ but before he had the chance to finish, you nudged him with your elbow & shot him a look. “I’m sure your cake is great but pie reflects us better.” Steve corrected himself quickly once he realized what you were planning to do.

“Alrighty, then please follow me over there.” the place behind the counter was now free so Sam & Bucky had a clear path to enter. “Any preferences?”

“Anything, really.” you encouraged the man who opened the showcase. He was so busy with his task, Sam & Bucky had it easy to break in. The corners of your eyes spotted their figures. Now they just needed more time to successfully get the information you all needed.

“Can I ask y’all something?” the clerk spoke up after handing you yet another sample of pie. Truthfully, it was a dream come true. Spending time with Steve while eating pie after pie? If only you did not have to pretend. Did you pretend? Or did you fake to pretend? Your brain did not make sense anymore.

“Go for it.” Steve encouraged.

“You’re the first couple to ask for pie samples. What’s up with that?” the man asked curiously, no longer looking at you like you were suspicious but genuinely interested.

“Well.” Steve chuckled & you could not help but let your gaze flicker up to his face. “We are a very unusual couple. Pie at a wedding is unusual. It’s perfect.” while he spoke those last words, his eyes locked with yours & you could have sworn that time halted right then & there. But you had to snap out of it. For the sake of this mission. A look over the shop owner’s shoulder confirmed that you did not have to pretend too much longer. Sam & Bucky were already on their way out again, turning their heads in your direction to silently confirm that they were done. Successful? That you could not tell just yet.

A few minutes & another pie later, you looked at your watch on your wrist & gasped exaggeratingly.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Steve asked & you almost gasped again, though this time, it would have been for an entirely different reason.

“Um, it’s late, we need to head to the thing.” you were doing so well & now, at the end, you managed to slip.

“The thing?” Steve inquired & by the look on your face he could tell that you were overwhelmed & could not think of a proper excuse. “Oh, the fitting.” he quickly added, hoping nobody would ask which kind of fitting. Seemed like you two were lucky today.

“In that case…I’ll let y’all go. Do you want me to put the rest of the samples in a box for you to take home? That way you have more time to figure out which one to choose.” he reasoned & Steve & you nodded gratefully. Behind the counter, he worked quickly & handed you a paper bag in no time.

“Thanks, man. We’ll get back to you.” Steve waved, putting an arm over your shoulder as you exited the shop. The moment you were out, you could finally breathe again. Missions made you extremely nervous. Undercover missions such as this one, actually. During the others you were perfectly fine.

“Thanks for helping me out back in there.” you chuckled once you were out of sight.

“Pie? Really? Wouldn’t have surprised me if he just saw through us right away.” Steve said with a smile on his face. Good, so he was not mad at you.

“In my defense…The pies were at the other end of the shop so I helped Sam & Bucky.” you finished your sentence but it sounded as if you wanted to add something.

“And you love pie?” Steve did not even have to ask, he knew you well enough.

“And I love pie.” you repeated & laughed. Steve still had not let go of you, hugging you to the side of his body. You did not seem to mind so he kept continuing to hold you close.

Steve placed the paper bag on the small table right in the entrance area. Immediately, you went to the bathroom to rid yourself of that stupid outfit you had to wear & threw on something more comfortable. Once you exited, Sam was already in your suite. The four of you decided to have the meeting in your room because it was bigger & the others kind of wanted to move in with you.

“What’s in there?” Sam asked, pointing to the brown paper bag.

“Pie.” you simply answered without much thought. Sam hummed but did not say anything else. Steve & you were in the living room area, waiting for Bucky to show up so you could start discussing more about this mission. Specifically what they found out during their inspection. The creak of the door gained your attention & you looked up only to find Bucky entering. Your gaze then flickered to Sam who was hiding behind the door, pie in one hand, his free hand came to his mouth, telling you to be quiet. It all happened too fast, Bucky was in Sam’s sight & in an instant, there was a pie right in the super soldier’s face. Steve came right in time to watch the scene, his previous intention to greet his best friend completely forgotten now.

“Sam.” Bucky growled, way too quiet for your liking. But you could not focus on his warning right now. You glanced over your shoulder & noticed Steve’s almost sad expression. The only one who could not control his laughter was Sam. He was practically on the floor because he was laughing so hard. The only emotion running through you was anger.

“I. WANTED. TO. EAT. THAT.” you were seething & all three men turned their heads at your tone.

“Sorry?” Sam tried but you were having none of it.

“NO YOU’RE NOT!” you pretty much yelled.

“I’m gonna kill you.” Bucky whispered & Sam took that as his cue to run away, through that labyrinth of your suite. Bucky sprinted after him, leaving Steve to shake his head at their childish behavior.

“(Y/N)?” Steve’s voice was soft & yet it did nothing to calm you down. You really did love pie & you had been excited to eat the rest of it in bed tonight ever since you left that shop.

“WHAT?” you snapped back, only now realizing that it was not Steve’s fault. “I’m sorry.” you added almost inaudible.

“It’s fine.” he raised his eyebrows & opened his arms. You were not sure why but Steve wanted to hug you & you never declined one of his hugs. So you fell into his embrace, both of you silently knowing that this action was not because of a stupid pie. Though you had to admit that you were mad at Sam that you could not eat the rest anymore. This hug held a deeper meaning & for a few seconds, you let yourself enjoy it. Until a loud screech from the other room snapped you back into the present. Steve & you parted unwillingly. You had to, before Sam & Bucky ended up killing each other.

The four of you sat around the coffee table, you occupying the floor while the others each took a seat on the oversized couch. A pout was still very much present on your face. Yes, you were mad at Sam but you had other things, more important things, to deal with right now. Revenge could come later.

“So?” Steve was the one to speak up after nobody else made a move to do so.

“Sam & I managed to break in.” Bucky casually said as if you did not see that to begin with. That was the plan after all.

“But?” your tone was still harsh but you tried your hardest to push that aside.

“We couldn’t hack the system.” Sam finished. “That’s your specialty.”

“Okay, wait.” you closed your eyes briefly. “You wanna tell me that it took you what felt like an eternity to check out the back room only to sit here now & tell us that you couldn’t get the information?” you concluded with a loud sigh.

“In our defense…We know that we’re definitely looking at the right place.” Bucky commented, careful to not anger you any further.

“So what do you suggest?” Steve asked the two men.

“We’ll go there again tonight. All of us. (Y/N) here hacks the system & we’ll see what we can do after that.” Sam established the new plan & you nodded in understanding.

“I still hate you for wasting the pie on Bucky.” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Sam chuckled though you knew he was not planning on keeping his promise.

“Alright, please go back to your room before I do something I might regret later.” you motioned for Sam & Bucky to leave & they did after arranging a time to meet again.

Since you had the brains in this group, it was an easy one for you to deactivate the security cameras without being seen. After that, you went on to the alarm system & turned it off as well. Which meant that you were free to go. It was the dead of the night, nobody was around. You could enter without a single soul watching you. Steve pushed his body weight against the back door. Once, twice. Until it opened.

“You do know that I could’ve picked the lock, right?” your voice made him spin around. It looked like he only now thought of that but he brushed it off, pretending that this was his plan & it worked out the way he wanted to. The room appeared rather normal. Nothing that caught your eye, nothing that was out of place. An office like you had seen multiple times. The computer was turned off so you changed that real quick, waiting for the screens to light up.

“Earlier today, it wasn’t protected by a password.” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.

“Yeah, dumbass. Because the computer was on already. Give me a second.” you opened various drawers to look for a sign as to what the password could possibly be. The others let you do your work, not daring to speak up to interrupt you. “There we go.” you found a small paper in between some notebooks. Not necessarily the safest place to keep secret things but you would not judge. The home screen showed up. Again, nothing special. Simply a picture of flowers. Weird for the guy who worked here but that was none of your concerns.

“And?” Steve broke the silence.

“There are some decrypted files…” you mumbled, sitting down on the office chair. This would take a bit longer, you assumed.

“Can you get access?” another question from Steve. At least the children were quiet for now.

“Of course I can.” you smiled triumphantly. “Give me a few minutes, though.” you were so focused on the screen, you did not see the others nodding. It was tough, you were not going to lie, but it was you who hacked into the system. You never failed with that.

“Huh.” you breathed out. Truthfully, you were overwhelmed with all the information you were receiving with one look only. Steve, Sam & Bucky each took a place behind you, staring at the screen curiously. “Guys? That’s…scary.” you chuckled uncomfortably.

“What is this?” Bucky mumbled quietly but since it was so silent in this room, everyone heard. This was way bigger than you initially thought. Once you made it back to your hotel, you needed to call Tony.

“(Y/N).” Steve shoved you away gently, taking the mouse in his hand to enlarge what caught his attention. You had to gulp at what you saw. What the hell were you doing on there? Steve’s muscles tensed, you could tell by one single look at him. It took a few deep breaths from your side until you started the process of transferring the information on your little flash drive. ”(Y/N).” Steve tried again, this time a bit louder.

“Yeah, I know.” you answered, ignoring your fast beating heart as much as it was possible. “I got everything, let’s head back.” it was clear that you wanted to leave this place behind & you were the first who made it out into the cool night air. Breathing worked easier out here.

“Hey, Tony.” by now, you were back in your hotel room, picking up your phone to call Tony once Steve went into the bathroom.

“(Y/N)! Successful?” he asked, already thinking that you finished this mission & started heading home.

“Not yet. Seems like this is bigger than we thought…” you trailed off at the end, not really wanting to explain what you found out.

“Bigger how? (Y/L/N), come on.” Tony urged & heard you sigh over the phone.

“It was at the back of the shop, that was correct. I hacked into the system & …it looks like it’s some sort of website where people can pay beforehand, assigning criminals for certain acts. It’s huge, Tony. Tons of people have an account & there are so many new assignments every minute…I’ll send you the data in a second, okay? We’ll check out the coordinates we found tomorrow. We think it could lead us to a very important member of this website. And maybe the guy from the shop has something to do with it, though I’m not sure which part he plays in all of that.” you left out a very significant detail & hoped he would not ask more questions.

“There’s something else.” he stated, knowing you better even though he could not read your body language like he usually did.

“That’s all. I promise we’ll finish this missi-“ your phone was taken from you but before you could complain about it, Steve continued the call with Tony.

“Someone instructed to eliminate (Y/N) because, & I quote, “She’s too pretty to be part of the Avengers”. That assignment was where we got the coordinates from. Means the guy from the shop probably manages all of that but he isn’t the one we’re looking for.” silence enveloped you two & you figured that Tony was talking on the other end. “Yeah, sure. That’s the top priority. We’ll work on that & you start looking into the website.” Steve ended the call & threw your phone on the mattress next to where you were sitting.

“What the hell, Steve?” you were furious because he acted differently. And not in a good way. The only response from him was a cold look. He then moved out to the balcony that was attached to your suite. It was unusual for him to be so distanced, especially when it came to you. And you were hesitant to follow him. Considering his body language, he was mad at you. Why? You had no idea. Did you do anything to piss him off? Your gaze fell to your hands in your lap. The diamond on your ring finger sparkled beautifully. You recalled how it felt to be next to Steve, in that small pastry shop where you ate pie after pie to pick the perfect one for your wedding. This was something that could never be. It was all pretending but why did it feel so real to you? Steve probably was not struggling as much as you were & you hated yourself for it.

A hand on his shoulder startled him. Steve eased when he found you standing next to him. The sun would begin rising soon but the both of you were not tired at all. Though the reasons were different. Steve’s mind was still occupied with the information that there was someone out there who paid an awful lot of money to have you eliminated. You, on the other hand, struggled with keeping your feelings buried. Your hands held onto the railing. The movement made Steve look down where the engagement ring was still adorning your hand. You had not taken it off yet. In fact, he only realized that now, you even wore it during your mission of breaking into the shop. Sam & Bucky did not comment on it & to Steve, it was almost…normal. But you did say you would not keep it on you unless you were outside, pretending to be engaged to him.

“What did I do?” your voice interrupted his racing thoughts.

“What?” Steve was confused that you believed you did something wrong.

“Ever since we got outta that shop, you’ve been distant & cold. Was it something I did?” you kept looking straight forward, not wanting to hold eye contact because you feared the worst. That you managed to mess up somehow & Steve was angry at you.

“You didn’t do anything.” his body faced yours & you could practically feel his eyes on you. His intense stare made your breath hitch up.

“You sure about that?” finally, you turned around. Your bodies were almost touching, you underestimated the distance between you two.

“You act as if you don’t care.” his statement had you furrow your eyebrows. He rolled his eyes but continued anyway. “Someone paid a huge amount of money. To have you killed. And here you are, pretending that it doesn’t matter. It’s something you’re really good at, huh? Pretending.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” your voice raised slightly but you still wanted to keep it down, you were outside, everyone could hear your conversation.

“See? You’re doing it again.” Steve called you out. “We found that piece of information by accident.”

“I’m aware.” you arms went to hug yourself. A distraction that barely did its job.

“So your life means nothing to you.” his words were harsh. And if you were honest, they hurt. A lot.

“I never said that.” you hated how your voice wavered. How you could not appear to be the strong woman right now.

“You act like it, though.” with each word he said, your heart broke a little more. If only he knew. “I understand. This whole pretending thing is something you’re good at. This mission showed that much. But this is real, (Y/N). So, for a second, stop pretending & act like you care!”

“STOP!” you yelled out of breath. Instinctively, Steve took a step back, eyes wide by your sudden outburst. “Just stop.” this time, you spoke it much softer. Your gaze flickered to the ground, head hanging low.

“I’m sorr-“ Steve was interrupted.

“I said stop.” you repeated. “Steve, we’re on a mission. We’re supposed to put a stop to this shit. None of this has anything to do with me pretending to be your fiancée or me pretending that I don’t give a damn about my life.”

“Are you sure about that?” he emphasized. One hand went to the diamond on your finger & slipped it off. You made a fist around it, though it was not with a lot of pressure. You did not intend to damage the ring.

“I might be good at pretending but I’m no professional.” you admitted. Steve grew more & more confused. He did not know you were talking about the fact that you were not pretending to be engaged to him. To you, it felt natural, it felt good. Right now, though, you did pretend that none of this faced you. But Steve could not tell the difference.

“Can I be honest with you?” he waited until your eyes met his.

“Go ahead.” you waved your hand for him to continue.

“I was cold towards you because once we found out about that, you didn’t say anything about it. And I can’t believe that you just don’t care about it. About your life. I can’t. You don’t have to pretend when you’re with me, you know that. We’re not engaged right now. No undercover mission. You & me. So please be honest with me.” he took your hands into his & you did not flinch back. The touch grounded you but it was no lie that you were having a hard time to be completely honest with him.

“Why do you care so much?” maybe not the smartest thing to ask. Steve’s reaction was proof enough. He let go of your hands, turned his back towards you & let out a breathless laugh. His hands raised to his hair, messing it up in the slightest. Seconds ticked by but it felt like hours until he spun around once more.

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!” it seemed like that confession made the both of you stop dead in your tracks. It was not the first time Steve said those words but his tone differed from the previous ones. Still, chances were high he addressed your friendship with that. Because you were friends. Simple friends. “Say something.” he grew desperate when you did not reply.

“I-I don’t know what you want me to say. That I love you, too? You know that, Steve.” your words were steady, calculated. It was too soon to get your hopes up.

“How far do I have to go for you to realize that I want you?” he approached you, hesitancy in his steps. “Didn’t it feel natural to you when we acted like a couple? Because, I can’t keep that up anymore, I can’t. Tell me you don’t feel the same & I’ll back off. We can forget this right now, we don’t have to talk about it anymore. But if you-“ his speech was cute but you had to be close to him now that he finally confessed that there was more between you two. You cupped his cheeks & pulled him in to kiss him. Steve was shocked at first but it did not take him too long until his hands rested on your waist, tightening his grip on you. After parting, Steve kept his forehead against yours. Both of you had your eyes closed, breathing the same air. You imagined this exact moment more than once. But never before had it played out like that. Not that you were complaining, your feelings were finally out there.

“You were wrong, you know?” as much as you enjoyed the silence, there was still something you wanted him to know.

“Wrong about what?” he opened his eyes to look at every feature of you. Because it was no longer forbidden, he was allowed to do that now.

“I didn’t pretend while we were in the shop pie tasting.” you admitted, a small smile playing at the corner of your lips. “I faked pretending, if that makes sense…But, after I saw the bounty on my head, I started pretending.” he nodded at you, squeezing your waist once to encourage you to keep talking. “Steve? I’m scared.”

“It’s okay.” Steve’s arms went around your shoulders, pulling you close once again. His chin on your head. If only that could dispose of all of your worries. The only thing he could do was letting you hold onto him.

Steve did not sleep on the couch that night. Not because he did not want to but because you insisted to have him close. It was not the first time you two shared a bed. Sometimes, when missions did not allow you anything else, you ended up next to each other. Tonight felt different, better. Because there was no longer a weight on your heart. Were you two in a relationship already? Maybe you had been for some time but the two of you were too oblivious to notice. There was enough time to label whatever this was as soon as this mission was over. Your focus should solely be on this mission. Tons of lives depended on it. Yours included.

“You’re stubborn. Do you know that?” the next morning came sooner than you would have liked. No time for cuddling in bed, no time for breakfast. Two hours of sleep was all you got. But you had never felt this rested in your entire life. The reason was a certain super soldier. Not that you would ever admit that.

“Would I have chickened out if I didn’t know they were after me? No. I can handle myself.” Steve suggested for you to stay behind because they were looking for you. It could bring on unnecessary danger & he obviously needed you to be safe.

“But we know now.” Steve tried reasoning but it was useless, you already made your decision.

“Right. So it’s time to put a stop to it. Come on, Sam & Bucky are waiting for us.” you were out of the door before Steve found enough time to argue with you.

The drive to the coordinates was tense. Not even the kids in the back were joking around. Possibly because this mission turned into something way more hazardous. The situation between Steve & you was the same. Hence why nobody commented on it. After all, you pretty much confessed before there was an actual confession. Therefore, it was the same old. The only difference was your gut feeling that did not give you a hard time anymore. That was not entirely true. You had a bad gut feeling but for another reason.

“That’s the house?” you gestured to the building after the car came to a stop.

“This is it.” Steve confirmed.

“I don’t know why I expected some sort of villa.” Bucky commented while glancing out of the window.

“Maybe that would be too obvious. I mean, we do know that they receive the money beforehand, right? And I’m sure that the order to eliminate me wasn’t his first one.” you spotted Steve tensing up when you talked about that assignment. Your hand squeezed his shoulder & you hoped that your smile was convincing enough. You were alright & you would be after this mission. With Steve, Sam & Bucky on your side, you had nothing to fear. If push came to shove, they would go out of their ways to keep you safe.

“Steve?” Sam spoke up. “You know we need him alive, right?”

“Of course.” Steve nodded though his mind was contemplating going further than that. Unfortunately, you still had to figure out who was the one to assign this to the criminal. Tony was onto that, checking if there was more to find out about that anonymous account who paid the money. “A few punches won’t kill him.”

It was the break of dawn & the neighborhood was completely empty. The silence inside the car was interrupted by Steve’s sign to make a move. All of you stayed close together, you were not about to make the same mistake people did in horror movies. Besides, you felt safer with them around. A noise made you spin around. It was coming from down the hallway. Steve took the lead, you right behind him. Sam & Bucky trailing behind after you. A gun was clutched in your hand but you were not intending to use it today. Hopefully there was no need to. Steve shot you a look over his shoulder, silently telling you to be prepared. When he pushed the door open with his body weight this time, you did not tease him about it like you did when you broke into the back of the pastry shop the other night. The sight you were met with was…unexpected. There was a man sitting behind his computer. The room smelled like drugs. A mixture of multiple things you could not identify & did not even want to.

“Woah, you’re the Avengers.” he slurred his words. So he was drunk as well. “Hey, I’m supposed to kill you.” he pointed at your figure & instinctively, Steve stepped in front of you. Shielding your body with his.

“You sure that’s our guy?” Sam leaned closer to you & whispered. Your shoulders shrugged & you pointed over to the desk where a name tag was proudly displayed. Seemed like he was not the smartest guy if he used the same name for his account on that website. Your heartrate slowed down because you knew you were not in danger. Not right now. Steve approached the man, coming to a halt mere inches away from him. His hand balled into a fist & after one punch in the guy’s face, he was on the floor, unconscious.

“Huh.” you breathed out. “That was almost too easy.”

“Yeah, if we forget about the website where thousands of people assign offenders every single day.” Bucky was right, of course. You stumbled across something way bigger. Hopefully Tony had good news once you returned.

The police was called. They inspected the room & that guy really was everything but intelligent. He horded a file full of his assignments. He would not see the sunlight again, that much was sure. Steve & you waited outside, leaning on the hood of the car. Sam & Bucky were busy talking to the officers.

“Hey.” you started & nudged Steve with your elbow. “Is it appropriate to thank that asshole?”

“What for? For wanting to kill you?” he answered with furrowed eyebrows.

“No.” you chuckled. “But…if it were not for him, we wouldn’t have confessed.”

“There was a possibility that he was dangerous. Maybe we just caught him at a bad time.” Steve mumbled the last part.

“Let’s not worry about that, alright? I’m fine. See?” you gestured to your body, a big smile adorning your features.

“I know.” he nodded but it was obvious that he was still careful about this entire situation.

“I love you.” that seemed to do the job. His eyes met yours, his expression less tense & softer.

“I know that, too.” he smirked when you playfully slapped his chest.

“Steve, you ruined a very roman-“ his lips were on yours before you could finish your complaint. Steve was aware what he was doing, because he smiled into the kiss which caused you to giggle.

“I love you, too.” his lips still ghosted over yours. You could feel as his words left them. “Romantic enough?”

“I’m sure you can do better.” you pulled away & winked at him, moving away to join Sam & Bucky. Steve’s eyes followed your body & he shook his head at you. Yes, he did love you. A lot. And he was already planning how to make his next move even more romantic.

Published (05/18/2021) by Cathy

✨MY Ko-fi PAGE✨

Tags: @zestyemby, @captainxholmes, @met4no1a, @bibliophilewednesday, @weareironmanbitches, @n3ssm0nique, @2bornot2b, @iaalien, @bibliophilewednesday (thanks for your support <3)

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 years

Text

When We Were Young Part Two

Part One | Next Part | Masterlist Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Rating: T

Notes: Not beta-read

Warnings: Uuuuuh none

Summary: You’d only caught glimpses of Mycroft when he’d returned to Ferndell, but it was so unmistakably him.

You thanked the attendant that put your luggage on the overhead rack before you settled in your seat. Part of you had considered lingering on the platform, looking around and waiting for Sherlock, but it felt ridiculous. He’d surely been winding you up the day before; he’d done that when you were younger, when Mycroft had already started to tick you off, and had grown bored with your ‘antics’ as he’d call them (even at that age). Sherlock knew, back then, that it wouldn’t take much longer before you were on the verge of tears and stomping off to Eudoria. As you’d gotten older and looked back, you’d realized that that was just a tactic to get you to go away. Why he’d bothered to act as such last night, though, you simply didn’t understand. You leaned back, a book in your hands as you waited for the train to depart. “Have you room for two more?” You straightened and turned your head at the sound of Sherlock’s voice, brows raised at the sight of him standing in the doorway to the compartment. “I’m only seeing one of you at the moment,” You said. “Mycroft will be right along.” You carefully shielded your displeasure, but the quirk of Sherlock’s brow told you that you weren’t careful enough. You gestured to the seat across from yourself before returning your attention to your book. Sherlock sat directly across from you, a book and a notebook in his own hands. You eyed them with interest before lowering your eyes to your book again.

“What are you reading?” Sherlock asked as he opened his own book. “North and South,” you answered. “Do you like it?” You did, quite a bit, but you weren’t sure you wanted Sherlock making a mockery of the subject matter, or your swooning over Mr. Thornton. But then you remembered what he’d told you a few days ago about your handwriting, ‘You’re outspoken, comfortable in your own skin’. “Yes, I do,” You answered crisply, turning the page. There was a moment of silence between you before you asked, “Have you any news about Enola’s whereabouts?” “No.” You pursed your lips. Somehow you didn’t believe that; maybe you didn’t want to. Sherlock was brilliant. If he had no leads, there was a higher likelihood of Enola being lost. “Would you tell me if you did?” You asked. Sherlock didn’t answer right away, and when you glanced up, you found him watching you, eyes gentle.

“I know you’re worried about her, dove,” He said softly. It was so straightforward, still utterly Sherlock, but for once, this acknowledgement of your emotion didn’t feel like an indictment. You lowered your eyes to your book again, fully intending to focus, but you could feel the weight of Sherlock’s gaze on you still. “Ah, there you are, Sherlock.” Your attentions were averted at the sound of another voice at the door of the compartment. You’d only caught glimpses of Mycroft when he’d returned to Ferndell, but it was so unmistakably him. He regarded you with a pleased shock as he stepped inside, removing his hat and sitting beside Sherlock. “You look like you’ve rather grown up to be... Well, respectable,” He said, eyes carefully sweeping your person. You arched a brow. “And you look like you’ve rather grown up,” You returned before you shifted in your seat, fully intending to return to your reading. “Your parents are in good health?” Mycroft pressed, insistent on upholding the rules of polite conversation, despite it only being the three of you. “They are well as can be expected,” You answered with a polite nod. “And you are well?” “I am, thank you, Mr. Holmes.” A pause, you assumed a respite as you turned back to your book. “You are... Unmarried?” Mycroft asked. You bristled, fingers tightening around your book as you lifted your eyes to his again. A fair question - hands covered in gloves, Mycroft wouldn’t be able to see a ring if you’d been wearing one. “Yes,” You confirmed. “And yet you travel alone,” He observed, “Quite precarious for a woman in your position.” You knew better than this. You weren’t going to sink to the level of Mycroft’s ridiculous little game - you could see his spoiling to rile you up, his eagerness to call you on your impending outburst. He was waiting for it. Instead, you let your shoulders sag a little, your head tip to the side as you regarded him. “Needs must, Mr. Holmes. Unfortunately my father isn’t well enough to travel, which is one of the things that’s necessitating my travel into London in the first place. If he were well, or if my parents had been fortunate enough to have sons, as yours had been, I might not be in this situation. But if you’d be so kind as to lend yourself as my companion for the duration of this journey, I’d be incredibly grateful,” You answered in a steady voice, offering Mycroft a bashful smile. Mycroft’s excitement spoiled so fast you swore his mustache wilted a little. He faltered, clearing his throat before nodding and mumbling a, “It would be my privilege,” before opening his newspaper and shielding himself behind it. Once he was out of sight you allowed your smile to drop, and you rolled your eyes as you sat up straight. You made to turn back to your book, eyes catching on Sherlock’s on the way. He was smiling, fully, warmly - something you hadn’t seen directed at you in a long time. You felt a thrill run through you, and you couldn’t help the small smile, a real one, that grew on your own lips at the sight. Neither of you spoke, just returned to your respective reading materials. -- The train ride was spent in amiably awkward silence; Mycroft reading a paper and tutting over the reform bill, Sherlock and yourself immersed in your own books. Now and again you’d feel him watching you over the top of his, and you’d feel the urge to squirm, or bring your book up a little higher to block him out of your field of vision, but you kept carefully still. You wouldn’t let him get to you as he had on the path back from Ferndell. You’d been kicking yourself all night for snapping at him the way you had, letting him get the better of you. But what had bothered you, more than the fact that you’d started to lose your temper, was the fact that he’d actually seemed affected by what you said. The look in his eyes, the little clench of his jaw - and then to push it all down in a second. You’d wondered if that was what he needed to do in order to work on these cases, set the emotion aside, hone in on the facts. But you weren’t a case. You tried not to dwell, to instead focus on your book, but knowing he was watching you, that he was so close by, was just so distracting. -- “I trust you’ve someone to meet you at the station?” You’d said what you’d said to get a rise out of Mycroft, but he seemed to be taking his role as companion very seriously. “I have, yes. My uncle,” You nodded, closing your book and folding your hands atop it as the train pulled into the station. You’d hardly read a word after a certain point, you’d merely been turning the pages for the sake of appearances. “Your father’s brother?” Sherlock asked. “Mother’s,” You corrected. His brow furrowed at that, and he loosed a, “Hm.” “Problem?” You asked. Sherlock shook his head before directing his gaze out of the window. You took the moment to look over his profile, admire his strong jaw and the curl of his hair. You didn’t let yourself longer too long, strongly aware of the fact that Mycroft was still there. Sherlock and Mycroft were both out of their seats as soon as the train stopped. Sherlock offered his hand to you. You took it, letting him help you up. You loosened your grip on his hand, and he took a moment to do the same before he reached up, fetching your luggage down from the overhead rack. Mycroft stepped back, gesturing for you to go. You stepped out ahead of them, nodding in thanks. They followed you out of the compartment and off of the train. "I know you two have quite a bit to do, you don’t have to wait with me,” You offered as they stopped on either side of you. “Nonsense,” Mycroft said crisply, “I wouldn’t dare leave a lady unattended.” He offered you his arm, and you saw that glint in his eye, still egging you on. You matched it with the smile you’d given him before, wrapping your arm around his as you headed for the entrance, Sherlock trailing close behind. “There’s my uncle,” You said as soon as you spotted your Uncle Cornelius. He was smiling, red-cheeked (likely from the sherry he’d already dipped into and not a mid-morning chill). You made the necessary introductions to Mycroft, but when you turned to Sherlock, you narrowed your eyes, “I presume you two have already met?” Cornelius opened his mouth to contradict you, but the additional darkening in his cheeks told you that you were right. You let out your own knowing, “Hm.” Mycroft cleared his throat. “I’ll get us a hansom,” He addressed Sherlock. He nodded to Cornelius, then yourself before stepping away. Cornelius reached out, taking your bag from Sherlock. “Do I even want to know how you two are acquainted?” You asked, clasping your hands behind your back and turning a sweet smile up at the both of them. “Mr. Holmes was kind enough to... Assist me with a personal matter last year,” Cornelius admitted. You nodded. “I see,” You said, “And this wouldn’t have anything to do with the actress that you took up with that subsequently tried sell your Rembrandt to the Louvre without your say-so, would it?” Cornelius let out a shaky, embarrassed laugh, eyes darting between yourself and Sherlock. You nodded, sighing, “Right.” “Sherlock!” Mycroft called from a ways away. You all turned at the sound of his voice to see him waving Sherlock away. You looked up at Sherlock. “If you find anything out about Enola--” “I will let you know,” He nodded. He glanced at Cornelius before he turned to face you fully. “Might I call on you while we’re both in town? -- If I have an update on Enola,” He clarified. You nodded. “Of course,” You said. Sherlock nodded. He turned, shaking Cornelius’ hand and saying his goodbyes before he left with Mycroft. You watched the two of them disappear into the crowd before you turned back to see your Uncle Cornelius eyeing you curiously. “What?” You asked, frowning. “I believe, my dear, that you are interested.” Your frown deepened to a scowl. “Try not to read too deeply into a woman’s interest, Uncle. You may find yourself short another Dutch Old Master.”

#Where We Were Young #Sherlock Holmes x Reader #Sherlock Holmes x You #Sherlock Holmes Imagine #Sherlock Holmes Henry Cavill #Sherlock Holmes/Reader #Sherlock Holmes/You

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justkending · 4 years

Text

The Slip Up. Chapter 7.

Series Summary: After a last hurrah to graduating college with a future to be a family practitioner, a little slip up happens… Seven years down the road, just when things finally seem to be going smoothly, Y/N approaches that slip up from all those years ago. She’s not looking for anything right now. She is just where she wants to be in life. It seems the universe has a different idea though. One called James Barnes.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (Single mom) Reader

Word Count: 2900+

Warnings: Language, adulting, mentions of sexual past.

A/N: Guy’s writers block has been an actual bitch lately. For some reason this series has been so hard for me to figure out where I want to go at this stage of it. I have a few ideas and end parts made up, but this middle part is like a blank space in my mind... Anyway! I hope you enjoy what little I was able to throw together, and I’m sorry it took so long to get out!!

Chapter 7:

Rori had a soccer game that weekend, and though Y/N planned on just going with Hope and Scott since Doris was in the age group up, she saw it as a great safe place for Bucky to meet her.

They had agreed to not quite tell Rori that he was her father considering they wanted it to be the right time. Y/N more apprehensive of things working out and scared that she would give Rori false hope of a father figure. Bucky just wanted to ease into it and not scare the little girl away. Though in the back of his head he for sure was ready to step up to the plate. But he respected Y/N’s wishes and told her that he would wait until she was ready.

That was the thing about Bucky that Y/N couldn’t quite wrap her head around. He was so relaxed and understanding of it all. Almost too understanding. She wanted to sabotage the whole situation in her head, but every time she thought of a test for Bucky, he would pass it with flying colors.

Asking him to wait to tell Rori the truth, she expected frustration and impatience of the idea. Instead she was surprised with agreeance and a sweet response of, “Whatever you think is best.”

When she told him about how she thought way back when possibly terminating the pregnancy when all this happened, she expected rage and disgust. And once again she was approached with understanding and empathy.

Even still, she was always going to stay on her toes. It was the instinct of being a mother.

“Ok sunshine. First real game today. You excited?” Y/N asked as she pulled Rori’s little jersey over her head.

“Yes! Coach Maximoff said to kick some petunias when I get out there!” she said excitedly jumping up and down once the shirt was on.

“Of course Pietro would say that,” Y/N laughed with a sigh. “Ok, go grab your cleats and bag, and I’ll go get the cooler of snacks for the team.”

“Yes ma’am!” Rori fake saluted, and ran to the living room where all her things were.

“Dork,” Y/N chuckled, standing up and going to the kitchen for the last few things.

______________________

“So what time will he be here?” Hope asked as they walked to the field.

“Said he would be here right when Rori’s game starts. He had an important meeting or something beforehand, but was going to cut it short for her.”

“Wow, cutting off important meetings for a child you just figured out was yours 2 days ago. Color me impressed,” Hope smiled nudging her friend.

Y/N rolled her eyes as she began setting up a seat and pulling up the cooler next to her, Rori already in the field and kicking a ball around with a friend.

“Heads up. Coach is coming your direction,” Hope patted Y/N’s back as she began setting up a seat herself.

“Oh God. I forgot about his flirting-”

“Hello Miss. Y/L/N. You look as radiant as ever, but what’s new?” Pietro Maximoff, the coach of Rori’s team, smirked and sauntered up to the girls.

“Piet, how are you doing?” Y/N smiled politely. She never actually hated the little comments he would make. She usually just laughed them off, and Pietro was kind about it. It was more playful banter than anything to her.

“Always deflecting the compliments. I’m good though. How are you ladies doing this evening?” he smiled crossing his arms across his wide chest.

“As good as ever. Doris is sad she isn’t on your team though,” Hope said plopping down and smiling up at him.

“I know. They always grow up and leave me. Breaks my heart seeing them graduate from the Blue Jay’s to the Hawks. Next thing you know she’ll be in the Eagles,” he pouted.

“Ugh, I’m not ready for that moment. Rori’s got one more year with the Blue Jay’s before she moves on,” Y/N said looking out to the little girl with braided pigtails.

“I’m not ready for that either because that means I won’t be seeing much of you either,” Pietro said with an exaggerated pout.

“That does suck for you, doesn’t it?” Y/N bantered back, getting a laugh out of him.

“Love your spirit Y/N/N,” Piet winked, shooting a finger gun at her.

“Don’t you have kids to coach or something. We have our first game today sir, and if I remember correctly, you told my daughter she was going to kick some petunias,” Y/N said with a smirk and raised eyebrow.

Pietro’s genuine laugh turned to a nervous one as he started stepping backwards. “You’re right. I have to go get the girls in a huddle.”

Watching the man quickly run back to the girls, he blew the whistle bringing them in.

“You know, if you let him. He would a hundred percent ask you on a date,” Hope chuckled, grabbing a water bottle and an apple out of the cooler.

“Exactly why I won’t let him. I don’t need that right now.”

“Oh, I know. I’m just letting you know he definitely has a crush on you.”

“Who has a crush on who?” a voice said from behind.

The two girls turned to see the brunette and blue eyed man. He was earlier than Y/N expected. As he walked up to the two he had a boyish grin littering his face.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to intrude. Just sounded like some juicy gossip,” he chuckled, hands in his pockets. He had on a pair of jeans and an old band shirt on. He looked extremely casual for having an important meeting beforehand.

“You’re fine!” Y/N laughed with a blush at the conversation he had walked in on. “We were just goofing around.” He smiled in return and nodded his head before looking over at Hope. “Oh, this is Hope. My friend from high school and college that I told you about. Her daughter was-”

“The one you were picking up that day. You said her name was Doris, right?” he reached out his hand to Hope and smiled.

“That would be my munchkin,” Hope smiled back standing and shaking his hand. “You must be Bucky.”

“That’s me.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m glad you could come watch Rori play today.”

“I am too. I’m glad Y/N let me in on the fun activities,” he smiled a little wider turning to look at Y/N.

“Uh, Hope’s husband will be here later. His name’s Scott. Fair warning he’s kinda a dork,” Y/N chuckled, crossing her arms. All of a sudden nerves overcoming her, like a high school girl on a first date.

“Kinda is an understatement,” Hope laughed sitting back in her seat.

“Well, I’m excited to meet him,” Bucky said, beginning to rock on his heels. Awkward silence filling the air. “So, uh, where’s she at? I’m assuming already on the field?” he said, peering forward and scanning the grass.

“She’s number 11,” Y/N turned trying to find her herself. “Um, there!” she pointed. “Little brown pigtails whipping in the wind.”

They were still warming up some, but for 6 year olds it was mostly just running in circles and kicking a ball. No actual warm up happening.

“Wow,” Bucky said softly to himself. He was squinting some trying to get a better look at her. “She, uh, she looks-”

“A lot like you?” Y/N chuckled.

“I was going to say you,” Bucky said looking back at Y/N with his own grin. “But yeah, she definitely has me in her.”

“She definitely does,” Y/N mumbled to herself when she thought of those bright blue orbs.

A few moments of silence go by as they watch the group of 5-6 year olds running around with no structure on the field for “warm-ups”.

“So, uh, someone has a crush on you?” Bucky said, clearing his throat while looking straight forward. Trying his best to come off nonchalant.

“Crush?” Y/N questioned, before realizing what he meant. “Oh! Ha, Hope thinks Rori’s coach has a crush on me, but he’s just a flirt,” she chuckled.

“Oh, I see,” Bucky smiled softly nodding his head as he put his hand in his pockets again.

Another moment of silence, but this one a little more awkward.

“Uh, so I brought an extra chair for you if you want,” Y/N spoke up.

“Thanks,” he smiled turning to her. “I didn’t even think about grabbing a chair.”

“Sure thing,” she smiled heading back to the set up her and Hope had started. “I always try and keep an extra in the back of the car cause you never know what parent is going to forget.”

They got situated while they waited for the game to start, and to say it was kinda awkward was putting it lightly. Y/N didn’t really know what to talk about, and Bucky was watching Rori intently on the field wanting to soak up every moment as if he couldn’t miss anymore like this.

“So, Bucky? Y/N tells me you're an architect,” Hope spoke up.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, breaking his concentration and smiling kindly at her. “It’s been something I’ve loved doing since I was a teenager. Figured I’d make a career out of it.”

“Makes sense,” Hope smiled.

The two getting to know each other for the next few minutes before a whistle blew and the game started.

Like Y/N had warned him, it wasn’t much of a soccer game as it was kids just running and trying to get a foot on the ball. Rori though was competitive and actually tried making it to the goal unlike the other kids. Bucky was impressed with her coordination for such a young girl, and found himself smiling through the whole experience.

That was his daughter. His blood.

Y/N looked over when she saw Bucky fully immersed in the sport, and a smile of her own grew. She could see the pride and excitement on his face. Clearly he was happy about this new part of his life. Clearly he was excited about hopefully becoming Rori’s father figure. It almost made her wish that all those years ago Bucky had been there… She wished she hadn’t gave up so fast on bringing him into their lives.

“Y/N,” Hope nudged her. “Y/N?”

“Hmm, what?” Y/N said snapping out of her daydream.

“Games over. We’re about to start packing up,” Hope said.

“Dang, today’s game seemed faster than the rest,” Y/N shook out her head and stood. “Scott, didn’t make it,” she said looking around just now realizing.

“Yeah, he called saying he would be here for Doris, but couldn't make Rori’s. Sorry,” she pouted.

“It’s all good,” Y/N waved off.

“Hey,” she looked past Y/N seeing Bucky was still watching the field. “You guys should go celebrate her win. Just you three. Don’t worry about staying for Dori’s game. She’ll have more.”

“No, we never miss Doris’s games. You guys-”

“Go, Y/N. Introduce Bucky to Rori and vise versa. That was the whole point of the today,” Hope egged on, seeing her friend begin to get nervous. Y/N opened her mouth to argue and stall. “Nope,” she shook her head before looking over at Bucky. “Hey Bucky! Rori, Y/N, and you should go celebrate with ice cream. Y/N and her usually do that after a win!”

Bucky turned to the girls and his eyes widened as if coming back to reality. “Oh, I don’t want to impose-”

“Nonsense, that was the reason for today. Right Y/N?” she elbowed her friend.

On the outside Y/N looked completely normal, but on the inside she had more nerves than anything.

“Right,” she nodded with a kind smile. “That way you and Rori can get to know each other. She would be confused if we didn’t get her celebratory ice cream.”

“I would love that then,” Bucky smiled excitedly.

“Well, you guys have fun!” Hope grinned. “I’m going to make sure Doris is ready to go. It was nice meeting you Bucky!” Hope began walking to the field waving a quick goodbye to Buck.

The two walked to the field where Rori was jumping up and down with her teammates as she congratulated the little girl who made the winning goal for the team.

“Hey sunshine!” Y/N said bending down and opening her arms for Rori.

“Mommy!” Rori shouted, running over. “Did you see that assist I did?”

“I saw them all baby! You were so good out there!” Y/N congratulated as she ruffled her hair.

“Hi,” Rori said next looking up at the man standing behind her mom with an awestruck face on him.

“Oh, sweetheart. This is my…” A pause as she figured out a word.

“I’m a friend of your mom,” Bucky said snapping out of his staring and smiling at the little girl. “My name’s Bucky,” he waved.

“Hi Bucky. That’s a cool name! My name’s Rori!” she smiled walking out of her mom’s arms and reaching a hand out for him to shake.

Bucky’s eyebrows raised at the gesture, and he slowly took her little hand and shook it as gently as he could. Almost like he was shaking a porcelain doll’s glass fingers. He looked over to Y/N who was still squatted and turned to them. She had a quirked smile and laughed lightly at his response.

“Nice to meet you Rori. You have a pretty cool name too,” he said with a smile that he just couldn’t hold back looking at the little girl's face.

Up close he really did see him in her. Her eyes looked like he was staring straight into a mirror. She had little freckles flecked like gold specks across her nose. Maybe that was her mom in her. Her hair was also like his. A dark brown hair almost black, but under the sun, the highlights of lighter brown and almost reddish tints peaking through.

“Uh, Rori? Would it be ok if Bucky joined us for our little ice cream date?” Y/N asked, standing and coming over.

“Yeah!” she jumped. “Have you ever been to Moo Moo’s?” she asked Bucky.

“Uh, I can’t say I have,” he laughed at her excitement.

“Don’t worry! I’ve tried basically all the flavors now, so I can help you pick one out,” she said grabbing her bag and throwing it over her shoulder.

“That sounds perfect,” Bucky grinned looking at the giant bag that was basically her size. “Since you’re going to help me out, do you want me to carry that for you?”

“Um, actually, yeah. It’s a little heavy today cause my friend gave me an early birthday gift. But she says I can’t open it until then,” she said, handing off the bag to Bucky’s outstretched hand.

Y/N came up to the side of them grabbing Rori’s hand, leaving the little girl in the middle of her and Bucky as they walked to the car.

“Which friend?” Y/N asked.

“Jenny. She said she wasn’t going to be in town for the birthday party, and her mom told her to give it to me now so they wouldn’t forget,” Rori went on to explain as they walked. Perfectly casual with the new man next to them.

Y/N looked over at Bucky seeing him smile at the little girl as he looked back and forth at her and the sidewalk. Y/N was always going to be a little apprehensive about a man she hardly knew coming in and taking the role of her daughter’s father. I mean you never know who people truly are, so defenses are usually high. But something about his grin was genuine and made her feel at ease about the situation. She started to realize anytime she was with him he didn’t give her bad feelings or make her uncomfortable. How that was possible with a practical stranger, she wasn’t sure.

Rori had moved on to talking about the game by the time they got to the car, and Bucky was nodding as she looked straight to him to explain her position, which Y/N was sure he already knew. They paused realizing they took two different cars.

“Hey Bucky. If you want we can all drive in my car to the ice cream shop since it’s down the block, and I can bring you back here when we’re done,” Y/N offered.

Bucky looked up and the grin he had while looking or talking with Rori was stuck on his face. “Uh, yeah, that would actually be great,” he chuckled looking back to Rori. “That ok with you?”

“Oh! If you do, I can show you my DVD collection!” Rori jumped running to get in the back seat.

“DVD collection?” Bucky chuckled.

“She has almost every Disney movie you can think of,” Y/N laughed back, taking the bag from him and throwing it in the trunk of the SUV. “She’s very proud of it.”

“I can see that,” Bucky laughed.

“Wait ‘till you see how excited she gets when she shows you all the kinds of ice cream she’s tried. She calls herself the expert.”

“And I’m sure she is.”

The Slip Up Tags:

@bornfortherainydays @poppunkdork @mylifeiscrazy0423 @buckybarnesthehotshot @mallyallyandra @fallenoutofrose @storrmynights @maddope @tinymalscoffee @kmuir1

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx @death-unbecomes-you @heyiamthatbitch @zeilenkrieg @lizzymacy555 @iheartsebastianstan @srrymydood @xa-dia @redhairedfeistynerd @morganclaire4 @connie326

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravic @traceyaudette @kakakatey @notyourtypicalrose @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @snffbeebee @thefaithfulwriter @marvelfansworld @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @carls1022 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @carls1022 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted

#bucky barnes x reader #BUCKY AU #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes au #marvel modern au #marvel #mar #Marvel Family #marvel series #Marvel AU #marvel fanfiction #justkending #reader insert #bucky barnes modern au

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chandelier-s-notebook · 3 years

Text

Yoo! I’m back in with an 11 Chapter (subject to change) story. This was made for the TWB Fic Flip, unfortunately I wasn’t able to finish the whole thing by the deadline, but chap 1 is out.

Let me know if you wanna get tagged when I post new chapters. @sleepysnails.

Ao3 Link

-------------------------

Techno Blade strode into the old gas station on the corner opposite the local mall. He winced at the harsh fluorescent lighting that welcomed him in from the crisp evening air.

He lowered his hood and ran his fingers through his short pink hair. His roots were coming in, he’d need to grab some dye as well tonight. Taking off his backpack, he began placing items in--trying to fit as much as possible: beef jerky, canned peaches, chocolate bars, a couple energy drinks a pack of Tic Tacs, and some box dye from the ends of the isle.

Techno glanced at the cashier. He liked when Tango was on shift; that guy didn’t give a shit about anything and cared more about Clash of Clans than whatever thievery Techno was doing whenever he came by.

“You plan on paying for that stuff?” Tango shouted across the room, still immersed in his game. “You know I don’t get commission if you steal it?”

“Of course!” Techno called back. He snorted to himself, it said a lot about his life that he and the cashier could joke about him stealing from the store. Techno grabbed another bag of beef jerky, slipping it into his steadily filling backpack. He heard the ding of Tango opening the till and the sound of coins splattering on the counter. “For Tommy,” he muttered, reminding himself why he was risking a criminal record.

There was an emergency exit he knew he could use down by the bathrooms. Techno studied the monitor that was supposed to display feeds from the four security cameras, but those were still busted from when those college seniors ransacked the place the week prior. Four different static patterns danced back at him. At least that would make his escape easier, not that Tango couldn’t point him out in a line up.

He grabbed a pack of gummy worms and put them at the top of his bag. “For Tommy to share with his friends.” He smiled to himself. Gosh he was going soft for the kid.

“Get down!” The front door was kicked open with so much force that the previously fractured glass shattered upon impact with the wall. “Hands where I can see them!” a male voice yelled.

Techno didn’t do that, his confrontation response telling him to stay put and out of it rather than submitting. Instead he crouched down and leaned his back against the aisle shelves, peaking out towards the counter. There were two guys pointing guns at Tango; one was ginger, black jacket, medium height, orange bandana peaking over his collar; the other was taller, but he was also less confident in his stance, blond, and he was wearing a purple sweatshirt--one that Techno was certain he had seen a thousand times before.

“Guys guys,” Tango said, trying to placate them. “I’m in the middle of something. Can this wait?”

“No. No it can’t,” he voice said again, clearly put off by Tango’s causal demeanor.

“Really? Cause I gotta get back to my Clan War…” he trailed off.

“Aren’t there more important things than a Clan War right now?” a new voice asked.

A voice that Techno recognized. If he thought the hoodie gave it away then the voice was the nail in the coffin. He let out an involuntary “Why?” before he could stop himself.

All three heads turn to him. “Like I said, in the middle of something; there’s a customer here.” Tango spoke slowly, as if the situation was finally dawning on him.

The ginger turned his gun towards the store. “Show yourself!” he demanded.

“Isn’t this place a little low profile for Las Nevadas?” Techno tried to joke. Eyes darting towards the door, Techno put his hands up. “I’m just shopping.”

“Not you’re not.” Fundy Soot smiled menacingly. “We’re doing a robbery, if you couldn’t tell. Take what you need and scram. Don’t call the cops either.”

“Got it.” Once Fundy turned his attention back to Tango, Techno grabbed a pack of M&Ms and shoved them in his backpack as well. He leaned down to zip it up, before tossing it over his shoulder and snagging a tube of toothpaste on his way out. Sue him, he needed a refill.

Techno carefully stepped over the shattered glass, and made his way out of the building. He regretted leaving Tango to deal with the gang, but sometimes he needed to put himself first. Always. Always put himself first. Techno vaguely wonders if he’s ever actually bought anything from this gas station.

“It’s immoral to steal,” yet another voice from the left side of the door called.

Techno whipped around and took in the man next to him. Techno first took notice of the red fabric folded neatly into a handkerchief pocket: a bandana. “You with those guys?” he asked, taking a step back.

“Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not.”

“Then why aren’t you calling this in?”

“Why aren’t you?” the man countered.

Techno gave him a sarcastic look, the sides of his mouth twitching in displeasure. “Because the guy with the gun told me to run, so excuse me.” He pivoted to make his escape.

“Say I said I was with those guys,” he said before Techno could make his escape. “What would you do?”

“I would assume you are Wilbur Soot. Brown trench coats and fluffy hair are the signature look of that guy. Looks like you’re watching over your brother and the new kid.” He shifted uneasily on his feet, ready to bolt. “Las Nevadas, saw the marker, figured it was polite to ask.”

Wilbur nodded, a gleeful smile taking over his face. He held out his hand. “Gimme the bag.”

“I need this.”

“Give it here.”

“Please,” Techno said, taking another step closer to his car. “Why do you need to take my stuff? You have two guys in there with guns.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

Wilbur opened his palm, getting impatient. “I just want the M&Ms, kid.”

Techno glared at him, but he nonetheless opened his bag and handed them to the man. At least he could keep everything else in the bag.

“Thanks.” Wilbur ripped open the packaging and tipped his head back, sliding half of the bag into his mouth.

Techno took a tentative step back and waited a second for Wilbur to wave him off. “Hope Tango’s okay,” he muttered to himself on the brisk, stiff walk back to his car.

He threw the bag into the passenger seat and rested his head against the steering wheel--trying to slow down his beating heart--for thirty seconds before remembering that there was a robbery taking place ten meters from him, and he did not want to deal with the police.

Techno snorted to himself, and turned on the engine. As if he hadn’t gone in there with the express purpose of stealing.

He sighed deeply as he took stock of himself. He didn’t get shot--which was great. He also had a lot more food to add to his stash. His and Tommy’s stash.

Techno groaned out loud. Tommy. The person in the purple sweatshirt was definitely the kid’s friend Purpled and now he was going around robbing gas stations with Las Nevadas. “Why? It could have been anything else, but no: he just had to go and join a gang.” Techno slammed on the gas pedal more than was necessary. Techno parked his car a couple streets away from his foster home. He waited for a few minutes to collect himself. “Eleven thirty,” he read off the car’s dashboard. “Gonna have to use the window.”

He arrived at the house. Through the ground floor window he could see that the lights were on at the back of the house. The house he was in is quite old, and he’d managed to snag a room in the attic with a bay window jutting out the side of the roof. He’d had it for as long as he could remember, in fact the Foster Bitch’s was the only house he’d ever had the displeasure of living in.

Unfortunately, Techno was in the circumstance of having had to do this a hundred times. He hopped up one of the columns holding the overhang above the porch, feet slotting into familiar grooves. Swinging himself up on the shingles and quickly making his way to the concave corner of the building, he used his momentum to push himself up the next two stories. Finding the familiar scruff marks on the window frame, he hoisted himself up to the top of the roof.

Techno looked out at the street below, it was a nice few all things considered. He went to open the window.

Locked.

Right. It had been storming the night before and he forgot to open it in his rush to get to school that morning.

Techno looked up at the sky. It was nice out, and he wasn’t one to be bothered about sleeping in day clothes--better than facing the wrath of the Foster Bitch for entering the house at such a late hour. He’d have to sleep on the side facing the backyard, he remembered what happened last time he slept on the roof.

Techno knocked on the window. Yes, Tommy should be asleep right now, but it didn’t hurt to check. After a minute he knocked once more.

Techno smiled at Tommy through the glass when the kid finally dragged himself out of bed to let his roommate in. The blond stuck out his tongue and opened the window. “Evening Blade,” he whispered. “What brings you back so late?”

“Sleep,” Techno said, slipping into the room. He snorted at the sleepy, unamused look Tommy gave him. “Stuff. Did you eat?”

“No. The other kids got to it first.” Tommy closed the window behind them, leaving the latch unlocked. “Like always.”

Techno hummed and unzipped his bag. He dumped the contents out and started organizing them.

“How did you get that?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Techno dug through the pile and pulled out a pack of beef jerky. He tossed it in the general direction of Tommy’s head. “Leave a slice for me.”

Tommy caught the bag and quickly tore it open. He watched Techno disperse the food around their shared room, taking note where each item would be. “Techno?” he called in a small voice.

“I know, Tommy. I’m careful.”

Tommy’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “Techno if you’re caught they’re going to send you away!” he said, still a little distressed. “Then how am I going to survive here?”

“I won’t get caught.” Techno reassured him. “And if I do, I’m not getting sent away. If that was the case I’d have been gone before you even showed up here last year.” Techno hummed; he remembered that party. Some kid he’d never spoken to couldn’t afford to lose their scholarship so little seventh grade Techno had taken the blame for the alcohol serving party held at the house that night. He chuckled as he remembered gaslighting the whole community that it was his idea, not his finest moment, but one he was proud of nonetheless.

Being barred from the dinner buffet for two weeks had been worth the reputation points. Plus, he learnt valuable hoarding skills in that time. The Foster Bitch was fine--all things considered--but she was under the impression that if she put out a bunch of food on the table, everyone would get an equal portion in the mad dash for sustenance.

That wasn't the case. Techno could get food just fine, but Tommy was a gangly fourteen year old with too much height and not enough bulk; it was virtually impossible for him to grab food off the table.

“I’m not going to get caught.” Techno said putting the gummy worms on Tommy’s night stand. He held out his pinky, “I promise. I’m safe.”

“Techno,” Tommy whined, unhappy with the response--ignoring Techno’s hand. “That stash is bigger than normal.”

“I know.”

“Techno.”

“The cashier was busy with something else.”

Tommy’s voice took on a colder tone. “Techno.”

“Tommy.”

“What was the cashier busy with?”

“Stuff.”

Tommy huffed. “It wasn’t a Dream Team thing was it? You shouldn’t be hanging out with them.”

Techno snorted. “I’m older than you. Aren’t I the one who’s supposed to tell you to stop hanging out with the wrong crowd? Dream’s fine. Besides, you hang out with his little brother.”

“Well yeah!” Tommy’s voice got defensive. “But Tubbo’s Tubbo. Dream’s in the news for stealing and shit.” Tommy munched on his jerky angrily, even if he was going to stay oblivious: they both knew that Techno didn’t have the money to pay for this. Tommy dropped the friend’s point and moved to double down on the previous one. “What was the cashier busy with?”

“Stuff. Not Dream. Not death. Just stuff okay?”

“Not death?”

“Not death,” Techno agreed sagely.

“You aren’t going to tell me?”

Techno took off his hoodie and belt, but otherwise didn’t bother with pajamas. “Nope.” He settled into bed and held out his hand for Tommy to pass him the food.

Tommy stared him dead in the eye as he ate the last piece of beef jerky from that particular package. Techno rolled his eyes, but he understood; Tommy had heard that from Techno before: the not explaining where he’d been. He knew not to bother his foster brother, but that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.

The next morning Techno and Tommy didn’t bother going to the kitchen for breakfast. Instead, they ate last night’s stolen granola bars in the comfort of their dingy penthouse suite--attic room--and listened to the thundering feet of the ten other foster’s in the house racing to get some food.

“If you want another, then take another.” It had taken a long time for Techno to teach Tommy that it was safe to take food from his stash; as far as he was concerned it was their stash. Hopefully, Tommy would stop feeling guilty about not asking, although that didn’t seem like it was happening any time soon.

Tommy sent him a half smile and scoffed down another bar. The two of them got ready for school, and were soon in Techno’s car. It was a ten minute drive to the high school, and Tommy sang along with the radio at the top of his lungs. It would be endearing if Techno wasn’t socially exhausted from the extrovert living in his room.

“I’m on top of the world, eh!” Tommy shouted, flipping off their foster siblings waiting at the bus station.

“Tommy.”

“What?”

“Don’t be a dick.”

“ I’m on top of the world! ”

Techno kept his smile to himself.

He rolled the car to a stop in the school parking lot. Before Tommy could open the door and vault out, Techno spoke. “Today’s a ‘going to Bad’s after school’ type of day.”

“What? Why?”

“Hanging out with Dream.”

Tommy’s face soured.

“Come on, don't be like that.”

“It’s not that I don’t like Bad. I just don’t like Dream. He’s bad news, and in the news.”

“It’s just an English project. We need to make a PowerPoint on something or other.”

“Okay,” Tommy said stiffly.

“I don’t police your friends. You don’t police mine.”

“Tubbo’s not in the news. Neither is Purpled. And you can’t complain about Ranboo.”

Techno thinks back to last night with the Soot brothers and the new kid in a purple sweatshirt. “Put a pin in Purpled.”

“No!” Tommy looked appalled at the insinuation Techno just made about his friend. “Have some faith. Tubbo and Purpled won’t turn out like their older brothers. Crime isn’t a gene that runs in families!”

Techno smiled sadly. “I hope not. Get out.”

“What do you mean ‘put a pin in Purpled?’” Tommy demanded.

Techno shrugged him off. “Text me if you leave Bad’s, I’ll come pick you up later.”

Tommy harshly pulled at the car door. “Tubbo won’t be like Dream, and Purpled won’t be like Punz.”

“I never said Purpled was a mercenary!”

Tommy got out of the car, slammed the door, and flipped his brother off before marching away.

Techno was so glad that they didn’t share any DNA. Could you imagine that? But just because they were brother’s out of necessity and foster placement didn’t mean he didn’t care about the kid.

#Technoblade #TommyInnit #Purpled #Fundy #Wilbur Soot #These Streets Are Made For Walking

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keijikunn · 4 years

Text

Memories ─ part ii

── A @celestialarchiveshq collab “Connected by fate”

Pairing: Semi Eita x fem!reader Tags: college!au, kinda angst i guess, fluff, SLOW BURN, maybe strangers to lovers!au Summary: On the last day of the year, you dream of your soulmate’s most impactant memory that happened within the year. Each memory will be different each year. Word count: ~5.4k

Author’s note: Second part is up guys! Hope you all enjoy it, and please let me know what you're thinking so far! Reblogs are appreciated <3

WARNINGS: insecurity, mention of injury (it’s a broken arm), self-esteem issues, let me know if I forgot anything

MEMORIES’ MASTERLIST

2005 (age of 11)

The gymnasium was filled with the sound of the sneakers against the hard wooden floor, constant screams of “left!”, “right!”, “block!” and occasional cheerings when someone scored a point. Your soulmate was excited for practice as usual, the love he felt towards volleyball was huge, and the bubbling sensation on his stomach gave away he was excited for something.

“Boys, gather up!” The coach called the team near the benches, everyone sitting on the floor in front of the man. “It’s time to announce which positions you’ll play for the next season, and possibly for the rest of your middle school years.”

A list of names got called, the younger ones assigned to variate between a couple of positions; the older ones were mostly spikers or middle blockers. With naive eyes, being able to score points for the team was euphoric, as if the weight of the world was on their shoulders. Your soulmate waited restlessly, a part of his mind wandering on his arduous training, trying his best to achieve his dream position in the team.

He called his name, eyes quickly to find his coach’s face. “You’ll be the on the start lineup as setter.”

Your soulmate gasped, his lips quickly turning upwards as he smiled in ecstasy. His close friends lightly punched his back and arms, congratulating his hard work. All the boy could think was his father’s words about how your efforts are paid back, just like his guitar classes. He thought about the countless practices he tried his best to improve, asking tips to his coaches and seniors, tossing a ball against his bedroom wall - only to hear Aime complain about it during dinner.

It felt good, amazing even. He understood the concept of working hard perfectly, after experiencing it twice. Something inside him made himself feel unstoppable, as long as he has his determination to do better, he could achieve every and anything he ever dreamed about. Your soulmate had never felt such proudness of himself before, and he had every reason to feel like it.

2006 (age of 12)

Semi’s relationship with his relatives was good, all his uncles and aunts were nice to him, his older cousins never really bothered him and the younger ones were funny to play tag games. However, the boy wasn’t excused of having a certain degree of dislike towards his same-age cousin Touma. Being born in the same year was great when they were little, playdates worked well and they’d always make each other’s company during boring adults reunion.

Things started to change once they got older and started elementary school. Touma was constantly praised in his school, claimed as the best student in his year, with almost perfect scores and impeccable participation in events. Semi used to be happy for his cousin, but the feeling changed once the other started to brag about himself, belittling Semi’s achievements and efforts.

After that, their relationship was never the same, and both of them knew it. The thing was that their mothers weren’t aware of the sudden change of affection between them, resulting in regular Sunday lunches over their place. It was uncomfortable the silence between them, the pair sitting on opposite ends of the large sofa, doing their best to ignore the other’s presence.

“Aunt!” Touma called Semi’s mother, a too innocent smile on his face. “Did mom tell you that I’m the best student in my school? And the teachers want to subscribe me in a Math competition?”

“That’s great to hear, Touma-kun! You’re really smart!” His mother cheered way too excited, Semi noted, and the boy tried to recall every time he had big news to tell if his mom praised him like she did with his cousin.

“Even the director talked to me about changing a few classes, saying Touma is capable of attending advanced classes.” His aunt gushed with pride. “And he’s even the best player in the soccer team!”

“Wow, Touma, you’re really amazing!” Semi was undeniably jealous at how easily his mother complimented someone who wasn’t her own son. He was furious at her, at Touma, but especially at himself for not doing better to receive the same praises.

“I’m naturally good, aunt! I don’t have to study or practice more to improve.” His cousin stated, sending Semi and side look in a provocative way, like inciting him to fight back. “And what about Eita-kun?”

“Eita always tries his best in volleyball and guitar practices,” his mom started, fidgeting with the cloth she used to dry the washed plates. “He’s a hardworking boy, right, Eita?”

“Yeah…” he muttered in response, feeling his heart drop to his stomach. Did his mother lie to him about working hard on what you love? To earn her compliments he should be a genius, be born good at that thing and that’s that?

The rage inside him was replaced by disappointment, even sadness. His parents lied to him just to make him happy because he was their son, it was their obligation to hype their children even if they weren’t that happy. Semi wondered if his mother would’ve lied to Touma if he was her son - and the answer came quite easily: she wouldn’t, because she had no reason to do so.

At that moment, everything he believed started to fall apart. His concept of being good, of worth of praise and recognition. Years of proudness were thrown away in mere seconds, a mentality Semi built to face every challenge destroyed in the worst way possible: by his own mother.

I bet mom wanted a son like Touma, she’d replace me easily.

I’m not good enough, am I?

The following days after the first rehearsal you had with the band, you and Semi met up more often to talk about your project, what you have so far and what do you wanted from him. Although Semi didn’t spare snarky comments towards you, he was cooperative and even suggested a thing or two.

“So, what’s the lyrics?” Semi asked, both of you were in a small café near the campus. His long and slim fingers tapped the wooden table, while his left - and injured - arm rested near his body.

“Well,” you started, offering a sheepelesly smile. “It’s your story, you should write it.”

“It’s your project, Y/n.” He tried to correct you, closing tightly his jaw in annoyance. Overall it was quite easy to read the singer’s body language, it being more expressive than his words.

“My project is to produce a song - which I’ll do when you come up with the lyrics.” The man didn’t seem to be convinced, but either way let out a long sigh, bothered by the situation. “Whatever you want to tell the world, any suppressed feelings, I’m all ears to your ideas.”

Semi visibly was taken aback at your choice of wording, mouth slightly slacking and his brown pupils quivered as he lowered his gaze to the table. You knew it was rather dangerous to suggest something like that, giving the fact he resisted for a while before agreeing to help you. On the other hand, though, it was your only chance to get what you really wanted: a song filled with the deepest and rawest emotions.

Much like your soulmate, the man in front of you closed himself from the others. The last 10 years, you dreamed about a very hard tempered, isolated and hurt boy and you didn’t truly understand those feelings. Semi, in your judgment (that you acknowledged could be completely wrong), gave off the impression he might understand him. Perhaps through Semi, you would be able to comfort your soulmate, because regardless of his belief or not in being destined together, you needed to do anything to sooth his doubts.

“Semi-san?” A male voice broke the silence you two fell into without noticing, lifting you head, you saw a rather tall guy standing by the side of your table. He sported a sharp and uneven haircut alongside with a tired expression, though his eyes were wide opened in surprise.

“Oh, Shirabu.” Semi breathed out the name, also surprised by the sudden encounter. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah…” the awkwardness between them made you fidget in your seat, averting your eyes from them to look straight into your cup of coffee. “How- how are you doing?”

“Fine, actually- and you? Heard you were accepted in med school,” the singer commented. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, uh- Y/n, this is Shirabu.” Semi introduced you two as you briefly exchanged a polite ‘hello’, a bit awkward by the situation. “We used to play in the same volleyball team during high school.”

“Oh, nice.” You reacted slightly rushed, the tension between the two previous teammates was growing as the seconds passed by. “Was Semi a good teammate? I’m playing support in his band and I can say he’s quite demanding.”

“Yes!” Shirabu exclaimed quickly, his nervousness showing off. “Semi-san was a good teammate and a respectful senpai.”

“Though you respected Wakatoshi the most, right?” Though you presumed Semi said that to joke around his underclassman, at some instance you felt bitterness hidden behind the playful comment. He laughed half-heartedly as Shirabu panicked to give him a proper answer. “I’m joking, relax.”

“I have to go, actually,” the younger man stated, offering the two of you an apologetic smile. “I have another period to attend… Anyways, it was nice to meet you, Semi-san, Y/n-san. Bye!”

“Take care!”

“Bye.”

Semi relaxed his whole body after hearing the front door close, running his right hand through the ash locks of his hair. You observed him shift on the chair, too immersed inside his own thoughts to notice your analytical gaze on him.

“Do you mind me asking why you look so shaken up?” Your voice was soft and lower, as if the choice of volume would prevent Semi from getting angry at you.

“He used to play in the same position as me.” Based on the few knowledge you had about volleyball, you assumed it was possible for two players to share the same role in the team, so you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “We both were setters, he took my place on the start lineup.”

2011 (age of 17)

The third years arrived late at practice and the coach, even though knowing they had extra classes, screamed at them to change quickly. Unphased by the outburst, Ushijima, Tendou, Semi, Reon and Yamagata did as they were told so in order to start the warm ups. Each one of them took their position on the court, ready to practice their main abilities; however, Washijo called out Semi and Shirabu to the sidelines, a serious expression on the older’s face.

“Semi, I’d like you to focus on your serves from now on.”

“What- why, coach?” Semi asked surprised, closing his hand into fists angrily.

“Shirabu will be the main setter of the team.” Washijo stated, and for a moment the world has stopped moving in Semi’s perspective. “You’ll be the pinch server.”

“It’s not fair, coach! I’m-” the words died in the boy’s throat, giving up on arguing with him. Throughout the years he’s been trained by Washijo, Semi knew his decisions were made to improve the team’s strength and chances to win. Nothing would make the coach change his mind. “I understood.”

He bowed to Washijo and Shirabu before turning back to head to the end of the court, getting closer to those who were practicing their serves. Semi took a ball from the cart, smacking it to hit the floor a couple of times before tossing it into the air to serve. On the other side of the net, the ball landed near the fifth position, but the thought of scoring a service ace didn’t soothe the burning rage inside of him.

Once again Semi was told right in front of him that he’s not good enough, he wasn’t needed on the court to articulate all the offensives against the opponent team. Of all people. He was subbed by an underclassmen. Semi Eita, a famous setter during middle school, who was accepted at Shiratorizawa through a sports scholarship.

Angry tears stung his eyes, but he refused to let them slip through his eyelids. No, Semi was too proud to let anyone see how frustrated he was; he wouldn’t give Shirabu the satisfaction to see him break down, even though his junior could not think like that.

Years of hard working, training every single day to improve his tosses, every time he bent his fingers during practices. All for nothing. Semi felt stupid thinking that it would be enough, he should have learned years before with Touma. Efforts don’t take you anywhere if you’re not a genius. He should have known better.

Serve after serve landed perfectly in spots other teams’ defense would break: between the first, sixth and fifth position; so close to the sidelines some players would think it would be out, just to be surprised by the referee pointing the flag to the ground. However, it wasn’t enough, not for Semi. At that moment, no service ace would make up the thrilling sensation of setting the perfect ball that leads the team one point closer to the victory.

It was unfair how he was subbed during his third and last year in that team, after that season he would retire from the club’s activities and solely focus on university entrance exams. Washijo should know how he feels, especially because the coach himself couldn’t play because of his height. So why has he done that?

His gaze unconsciously fell over the main court, where the spikers were practicing with Shirabu. Semi desperately searched for any fault in the setter’s tosses, in his posture and even in his movements around the other players, anything to point out to the coach as an excuse for him to change his mind about the situation. What angered the boy the most was the fact Shirabu had such clean moves and a great analytical vision - he was way more competent that Semi himself in the matter of technique.

What took the biggest toll on him, though, was seeing Ushijima and Reon hitting every toss with such ease and power. Their performance was better than when Semi was the official setter, he couldn’t recall any practice or game both spikers were surpassing their usually good performance. That made everything clear to Semi: he couldn’t bring the best of his teammates as a setter, he wasn’t skilled enough to help his team on every offensive. He had to accept it.

There will always be someone better than me, Semi thought to himself, panting from tiredness. I’ll never be the first option for anything, I should have known that.

You’re pathetic, Semi Eita.

End of October, 2017 (current time, age of 23)

To say you were nervous was a understandment, you’ve never performed in a live house before - and it definitely wasn’t like school presentations, as you tried to convince yourself. The fact that those people in front of the stage weren't there to actually see you helped a bit to calm down your nerves, though not enough to prevent your hands from shaking.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually nervous, Y/n.” Semi teased you, earning a whine from you. The singer was relaxed - it would surprise you if he weren’t - with his arms crossed over his chest, carefully enough to put his right one over the other. He was looking good, you admitted to yourself, with black jeans, a white t-shirt and a leather black jacket. “You’re a music producer, you shouldn’t be afraid of the audience.”

“Firstly, I’m not a music producer,” you started angrily, narrowing your eyes at him. “And secondly, that’s why I chose to learn how to produce songs, because I won’t perform them.”

“You can either focus on a dot ahead of you, ignoring all eyes looking to the stage or,” he stepped closer to you, bending down a little so his mouth reached closer to your ear. “You can just look at me.”

You stepped back in surprise, feeling your cheeks heat with the exaggerated flow of blood through your veins. Semi laughed at your distressed expression, leaving you behind to search for his bandmates in order to prepare themselves to go on stage. You had no idea if the guy teased you on purpose or not, but it was effective: you were no longer anxious to be in front of people, but because you’d be next to Semi for at least 30 minutes.

The moment you dreaded the most arrived sooner than you thought, a staff from the live-house ushered you four to the stage. Akihiko sat behind the set of drums, positioning himself comfortably to start; Takeshi plugged the bass on the amplifier, adjusting the volume as he strummed the cords. Semi stood in the middle of the stage, pulling the microphone stand in front of him up to get it closer to his mouth. Your hands worked quickly on setting up your guitar, earning you enough time to pay attention to the audience’s noise through the closed curtains.

Before you could get lost in your own thoughts, a fixed and intense gaze on you pulled you out from overthinking. Semi’s brown eyes looked straight into yours, and somehow you felt a wave of calmness wash over you, deafening the sparse chattering around you. His lips formed a small smile, and differently from the sarcastic ones he usually offers you to mess around, it was genuine.

“You can do it, relax.” He mouthed, you barely caught the words as the staff crew announced the band and the curtains opened. Returning the smile with a nod, eyes diverting its focus to Akihiko - who beat his drumsticks four times, starting the presentation.

“Thank you so much for coming tonight!” Semi said on the microphone after the last song of the setlist, earning back a wave of screams and claps. “And special thanks to our support Y/n.”

The sudden attention you received startled you, but your response was to simply smile and bow to the public. You weren’t feeling shy at that moment, the adrenaline in your veins even made yourself enjoy the positive response from the public. As Akihiko came towards the stage and thanked everyone, the staff closed the curtains and Takeshi - who was closest to the exit - led the way out.

“You did amazing, Y/n!” Akihiko beamed, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“I was so nervous, though!” You laughed with them at your answer. “But it was a good experience, I enjoyed myself out there.”

“Great, because you’re in the band for a couple more shows.” Semi announced with a smirk, only to that morph into a bigger smile. “I still have a few weeks with the cast and physiotherapy to attend… you better enjoy the spotlight, rockstar.”

All of you burst into laughter, heading to the backstage room you got ready before. The boys encountered their own friends in the process, and while you didn’t know any of them, you decided to organize your own stuff. Soon, your guitar was securely inside its case, a couple of makeup products were stored in the small bag you brought and your cellphone was stuffed in your backpocket.

“Eita-nii!” A new, and loud, voice bursted into the room. The girl - who you presumed was Semi’s sister by the honorific she used - ran towards the singer, wrapping her arms around his body. The man himself reciprocates the gesture, although shyer than her. “You and the boys were great today! Oh- and who is that girl who played support? You’ve never told me it would be a girl! I thought you’d invited Kaito.”

“Hey,” Semi said louder, looking at you. The unsaid invite to come closer made you get up from your seat in the corner and walk towards them. “Aime, this is my friend Y/n. Y/n, this is my annoying younger sister, Aime.”

“Nii-chan!” Aime whined, quickly dismissing her brother as her attention focused solely on you. “You did so good on the stage! Eita has never told me he was friends with anyone new, let out a girl. I thought he was that antisocial that had only Akihiko and Takeshi-kun as friends.”

“I mean,” you giggled at Aime’s rambling, she was the complete opposite from her brother, which was endearing to see. “I didn’t know Semi considered me as his friends, once he thought I was hooking up with Akihiko.”

“What the hell, Semi?” The drummer jumped in the conversation, a grimace on his face. “I’d never do anything with Y/n- gosh I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“Should I say you’re the stalker who would leave me alone if I sang for your project, then? I can still change the status.” Semi teased you, in response, you lightly punched his left arm. “By the way, what are you doing here Aime? Don’t you have a curfew to follow? Does mom and dad know your whereabouts?”

“I’m not ten anymore, Eita!” She let out a huff in annoyance. “I’m twenty, remember that? A college student that has every right to enjoy herself on a Friday night after a tiring week.”

You let the two siblings bicker between them, taking in that new side of the singer you’ve never imagined he’d have. The usually cold, snarky boy also had a soft spot for his sister was also the common overprotective, caring older brother. You had to admit the duality in Semi’s personas suited him, and you felt like another side of his mysteries was presented to you.

“Well, I have to get going…” you announced gathering your things up, hearing Takeshi and Akihiko’s protests. “I booked a studio early in the morning, I want to be productive, not a literal zombie going over a few samples. Not to mention the last bus will stop by soon. Thank you so much for your hard work, guys! And also, it was a pleasure to meet the better Semi, Aime.”

“I barely know you but I’m sure I’ll like you!” Aime hugged you, while Semi scoffed ironically. “Hope we meet again soon, Y/n!”

“Wait, let me grab my coat.” Semi stopped you from leaving the room after saying goodbye to both Takeshi and Akihiko. “I’ll take you to the bus stop. Who knows what could happen in the middle of the night?”

“And what will you do? Hit them with your cast?” You sassed, the man rolled his eyes, taking the small bag from your hands.

The two of you left the live-house in silence, enjoying how the loudness gradually decreased and the city noises overtook your senses. You started to feel tired from the show just now, your eyelids were heavier than usual and your shoulder muscles ache due to the tension and nervousness you were feeling. Either way, you felt good, performing was nice - though if you had to choose, being inside a studio felt much more comfortable.

“You did well today.” Semi spoke out of blue, with your peripheral vision you analysed him. His head was upwards looking to the sky, the corner of his mouth was tugged in a small smile and his posture gave off the feeling he was feeling satisfied. “You were so nervous before going on stage, but when we started, you looked like you’ve performed before. You have a talent.”

“It was the adrenaline.” Both of you laughed at your comment, silencing yourselves as you arrived at the bus stop. It was empty, which was expected given the fact it was almost one in the morning, so you took a seat next to each other. “I never imagined you were the protective older brother…”

“Trust me, you’re not the first one to tell me this,” he scoffed jokingly, a much softer expression adorned his face at the topic of his sister. “Aime is just… something else, you know? As her older brother, I think I have to shield her from being hurt - even if it means I get hurt”

“What, have you punched someone in the face because of her?” You joked, only to the laughter die on your throat at his positive response with a nod. “You’re kidding me, Semi!”

“I’m telling the truth!” He protested, a frown appearing on his face. “Some boy thought he could call my sister a bitch and leave unpunished. It was my very first fight, but as Aime’s brother, it was my job to teach that little shit a lesson.”

“Bet he punched you in the face, as well.”

“Yeah, but,” Semi stopped talking, inhaling deeply before turning to you. “You saw how she is, I- I can’t never let someone take it away from her. Nobody is allowed to hurt her like…”

“Like…” you tried to encourage him to speak after a few seconds, only for him to sigh tiredly and give you a meek smile.

“Nothing… guess it’s just the cliché older brother talk,” the way he avoided finishing his original train of thought didn’t go unnoticed by you, but you let it go to not cause further embarrassment. As the two of you entered in a comfortable silence, you saw the bus turning into the main avenue. “The princess’ carriage has arrived, my lady.”

“Thank you very much for protecting me, my knight in shining… arm cast.” You giggled at your lame joke, taking the bag from his hands. “I’ll talk to you soon… regarding the project and stuff.”

“And don’t forget we have rehearsals.” Semi reminded you, getting up from his seat. The bus stopped in front of you, the two of you stared at each other not knowing what to do. Before you could turn and hop on the vehicle, the man ruffled your hair with a mischievous smile. “Good night.”

“Good night, Semi.”

1997 (age of 3)

The white corridors seemed to be longer in Semi’s perspective, his young perception didn’t allow him to estimate how long he'd been walking with his grandparents on that floor. What buzzed in his mind was the new piece of information grandma told him before leaving the house.

“Let’s visit mommy and Aime-chan, Eita-kun.”

The boy was still confused why his mother had to go to a hospital to meet his younger sister - even though his parents had innumerous talks about this special day. Nevertheless, Semi was excited to see mom and dad after a whole day without them - and to finally see Aime.

Grandad knocked on the door, gently pushing it open so Semi could walk in. The sight of strange wires and tubes on his mother’s skin scared him, bumping into the older’s legs. Sensing his distressed expression, his father came closer to him, scooping the little kid in his arms. Semi hid his face on the crook of his dad’s neck, avoiding eye contact with the starling objects near his beloved mom.

“Eita,” her smooth voice called him, he lifted slightly his head to meet her eyes, only to hide again. “What’s wrong, love?”

“Mommy is hurt…” he whispered, pointing to all the equipment near the bed.

“No, buddy, mom is not hurt,” his dad denied, tapping lightly his back as an invitation for him to look around. “These things are making sure mommy is doing fine, she’s been pretty tired, remember we talked about it? How would Mommy feel tired after Aime left her tummy?”

An unknown whine filled the room, making Semi lift his head to search for the source of said sound. His eyes eventually fell on the tiny baby on his mother’s arms, opening and closing her mouth as little noises escaped through her thin lips.

“Aime?” Semi pointed out, suddenly feeling curious. His father sat him down next to his mother, letting him have a better view of the baby. “Aime is small!”

“Yes, she is, sweetheart.” His mother agreed softly, pulling the blanket slightly downwards so her son could see Aime’s face. “But soon she’ll grow bigger, and you two can play together. Will you share your toys with her?”

“Only if she doesn’t drool on them!” His statement made everyone laugh, but Semi couldn’t care less, too entertained with his sister. “I love Aime.”

“You have to protect her as the older brother, Eita.” His father told him, coming closer to them. Semi nodded excitedly, lowering his head to leave a kiss on Aime’s forehead.

2012 (age of 18)

All Semi could see was red as he approached Aime in front of a café. She was accompanied by her friends and some stranger boy, who was awfully close to his baby sister. The words a fellow classmate told him before they left the dorms for winter break rang through his head.

“Hey, Semi, I heard a guy from another school has been hitting on your sister for a while. My friend told me she’s pretty bothered by him.”

“Aime!” He screamed, heavy footsteps marking his way over the thin layer of snow. The said girl turned around, a mixed expression between relief and fear on her face. Stopping in front of the boy, Semi opened a bit more his chest in order to look more intimidating. “What the fuck do you want with her?”

“None of your business, dude.” His voice was coated with anger, the short phrase said between gritted teeth. “I saw this beauty first, back off.”

“And I said I’m not interested!” Aime piped in with a squeak.

“You heard her.” Semi stepped closer to him, locking eyes with the stranger. “Get lost.”

“This little slut is playing hard to get.” The world seemed to stop spinning, Semi took a second to process what that guy had the audacity to call his little sister. “I dare you to say this after I-”

He couldn’t finish his words as Semi threw the first punch right into his left cheek, knocking him to the floor. Kneeling next to him, the pinch server proceeded to get a firm grasp on the collar of his coat with the left hand, while his right one collided with the boy’s face repeatedly. Semi could hear at the back of his head people screaming at him, Aime calling out his name, but nothing would make him stop until that brat learned his lesson.

The other boy managed to get a hold of himself, punching Semi on his sides - who lost his breath and received another hit on the face. On his tongue, he felt the taste of his own blood - and he wasn’t able to distinguish where it could be from: either from his lips or the inside of his cheeks. With his knee, Semi returned the blows on his ribs, quick to sit himself on the boy’s stomach.

Every punch he gave seemed to increase its power, shifting between his nose, cheeks and mouth. Semi has never felt so enraged before, just remembering what he had called Aime made his body warm with adrenaline and wrath.

“I dare you to call my sister,” Semi muttered between huffs of air, feeling difficulty to breathe in and out due to the intense body movement and the pain on his sides. “A slut again. I fucking dare you!”

Before he could do anything else, two men held him back, making sure to wrap their hands on his arms, and lifted him up. Semi, in his last act of anger, kicked the boy laying on the floor aimlessly. The other boy was aided by another man, refusing his care to get up and look straight into Semi’s eyes.

“Watch out, asshole, I’m getting back to you.”

“Be ready to have a fucking broken nose.” Semi mocked him, and before he could continue his threats, Aime appeared in front of him with tears stained over his cheeks. “I was the one who got punched and you’re crying.”

“Are you insane!?” She asked distressingly, knocking on his chest - which made him lose his breath. “Why would you do that?”

“Isn't it obvious?” He asked, gently freeing himself from the men’s grasp. “I’m your older brother.”

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chaoticowlpost · 4 years

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Hi GiRa, I don’t know if you do this, but do you have Captive Prince fic Recs? I’ve followed you for the Draco/Harry content, but Damen and Laurent looked like something I would enjoy so I’ve read all the books last week. It was sooooo good 😍 and now I need all the quality fic in my life. Please help!

Hello nonnie~ Yes omg I do have fic recs but I’m afraid they may be a little biased as of now haha. That’s because I leaned towards fics in the setting of the canon when I first started but then slowly began reading Modern AU fics as I went- and I haven’t gone through nearly enough fics yet,- so I’ll probably have to do another sweep of all the fics on AO3, BUT here are some fics I’d love to recommend to start with

1. @mfingenius

That’s it, that’s the tweet. HBFSJDF okay no I’m joking but I absolutely love their works and they were the one who introduced me to capri. There’s a bunch of short fics on their account that I like to indulge in constantly and you should definitely check it out because there’s too many for me to just pick one!

2. itallends ( @goldencuffs )

For Better, for Worse (9.2k) - Laurent arches an eyebrow. “I am married, Jord.”

Jord blinks at him slowly. “…To your job?”

“To a man.”

Jord’s eyes fall on Laurent’s bare left hand.

”Right,” he says.

Or: five times Laurent says he’s married, and the one time everyone finally believes him.

Receipts and Reciprocity (9.5k) - Damen has a thing for buying Laurent stuff.

I love their works with my whole heart nobody touch me hnfdgjg but seriously these are some of my favorite fics! They’re both Modern AUs if that’s what you’re looking for and partial reason as to why I started opening up more towards Non-Canon setting fics.

3. waywardwriter

Courts, Crowns, and A Little Game of Chess (55k) - In an attempt to diffuse the rising tensions between Akielos and Vere, Prince Auguste invites a group of Akielon ambassadors to the Veretian court. He expects many things to come out of this visit: trade agreements, festivities and celebrations, and perhaps the emergence of better diplomatic relations between the two nations. What he did not expect, however, was for his younger brother to take an interest in the Crowned Prince of Akielos.

AKA: The fic where Laurent is a reserved, bookish, hero-worshipping boy who meets Prince Damianos for the first time.

Waking Up To You (1.7k) - Damen wakes up from his wisdom teeth surgery only to find the most beautiful man in the world sitting beside him.

I couldn’t help but insert Waking Up To You 😞 It’s a weakness because why wouldn’t I want a high-as-balls Damen just being in love with Laurent in general. The first fic, however, is up among one of my favorites. Damen courting Laurent? Sign me the fuck up! This was so well written I just fell in love with all of the characters.

4. DisraeliGears

Anything For You (39k) - Laurent will do anything for Damen. Including make friends with Nikandros…if he must.

The story of Nikandros and Laurent’s friendship.

A Party of Our Own (5.5k) - Nikandros escapes Damen’s party for some alone time…and ends up locked in the wine cellar with Laurent. As one could probably imagine, some snarking happens. And some airing of grievances.

These fics are mainly Nikandros and Laurent building a relationship and getting to understand one another and I’m absolutely HERE for it! The characterization of Laurent was so well done and Anything For You is also among my top favorites because of how intense it was towards the end and just everything Laurent did in general, but through Nikandros’ eyes (even better!)

5. damnmads & The Librarina (tears_of_nienna)

Pawn Sacrifice (85k) - The war with Akielos has settled into an uneasy alliance, and Prince Damianos is sent to spend a year at Arles. Seven years later, he returns to Vere to offer condolences to King Auguste on the death of his father. But Auguste’s younger brother is much changed, as is the political climate in Vere, and Prince Laurent is the target of an assassin. When Damen returns to Akielos, an unexpected guest is sent with him—but danger follows, and the fate of two kingdoms hangs in the balance.

What might have changed if Auguste lived—and what was inevitable, even so.

Another Auguste Lives AU because I love him and yes (the best brother™) . This is a slow burn fic about how the story might have gone if Auguste lived to become king and how Damen and Laurent’s relationship might have gone. It’s quite a lengthy read but I think it’s a great fic to immerse yourself in if you’ve got the time

6. Just_Another_Day

Five Times Laurent and Damen Unintentionally Caused an International Incident (and One Time They Meant To) (28k) - Everyone in the world knows for a fact that Laurent and Damen despise each other with a burning passion despite their countries supposedly being allies. Strangely, though, the two of them seem to have missed that whole ‘hatred’ memo. Nikandros really doesn’t get paid enough to deal with this shit.

The title says it all and it’s absolutely perfect! Pray for Nikandros and give him a raise in this Modern Royalty AU because Damen and Laurent can’t keep their feels out of view for anything so watch as these boys in love make Nikandros lose 10 years of his life.

7. thewriterofperfectdisasters

kimihia (22k) - Laurent frowned and drummed his fingers against his laptop as he considered what to say. In theory, nothing was stopping him from going to Greece. Nothing was stopping him from maybe running into someone he met over Tinder. The only thing standing in his way was his own apprehension and mistrust about the whole situation.

A Modern AU with the help of online dating because why not. This is such a feel good AU and it just makes me so happy to read it so I hope you like it as well

8. Entity_Sylvir

How Not To Court A Veretian Prince (13k) - “He was—” Damen breaks off, swallows hard, pauses in the manner of a man soundly failing to find an explanation in what he is trying to explain, “—really pretty.”

“What,” says Nikandros, “the fuck.”

The first time Damen meets Laurent, he mistakes him for a pet. It doesn’t go well.

No one lets him forget it.

Words cannot DESCRIBE how much I love this fic! The fanart, the way Damen’s actions come to haunt him, and Laurent being a little shit™ in the best way had me cackling and just everything about this fic had me in love.

9. dawnofthursday ( @americancupsofbritishtea )

The Pitfalls of being Overprotective (2.2k) - Auguste makes a discovery, and then wishes he hadn’t.

Another fic that had me screaming because Auguste deserved whatever he got in this fic for being big brother™. I’m not sure what else to say without spoiling it because this is absolutely hilarious but you gotta read the tags (PLEASE READ THE TAG IT’S GREAT)

10. LaLaCat1

The Oath (78k) - Young prince Laurent arrives in time to stop the killing blow from falling at Marlas. A split second decision has Damen swearing Auguste an oath to protect his younger brother, and it’s not until he brings the Veretian princes back to parley with his father that Damen realizes how difficult that oath will be to keep.

Okay so this fic is also kinda intense but it’s another AU about what would happen if Auguste lived and the amount of feels and stress (good stress) that came with this fic was just.. damn. I’ve lost sleep on this fic and every moment was worth it so if you’re interested in this type of fic, definitely give it a read when you can!

There are probably a few more in my list somewhere that I haven’t been able to update but here are a few to get you started! I hope you enjoy them as much as I did and I hope I was able to help

By the way, if anyone knows the tumblr accounts of the authors I tagged, could you please tell me? I’d love to give them a follow to keep up with them and help others find their accounts as well if they’re interested!

#ask #anon #fic recs #captive prince #lamen

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beloved-judged · 4 years

Text

Wrasslin’ with ambition

In their kindness, the beloved ones have arranged my life so that my natural tendency toward wanting to be the belle of every ball is curtailed by circumstance.

This is a fairly euphemistic way to say that despite my best efforts, I am not the universally acknowledged superstar part of me wishes I was. In fact, a random survey of my day will generally net you a fairly extensive amount of people trying, in various ways, to make clear to me that they don’t think much of me as a woman, a person, or my skills as a worker. Questioning my competence; eighty-eleven shades of condescension; talking to my tits; the sudden inability to recognize English when it comes out of my mouth; whining at me that I just don’t ‘get’ them during work meetings; listening to people in my management chain insinuate that I’m fucking my direct supervisor; the complete inability to agree with anything I say, even when I’m repeating them; being unable to credit me with my own ideas...

I have that effect often on people. It’s a touch bruising on my self-confidence.

Of late, my friends/mentees/people whose resumes I edit and professional skills I foster are wildly successful, getting the kind of attention from companies I only wish I was getting.

It’s hard not to envy them. It’s hard not to look at the fact that they are younger than I am, taken more seriously than I am in professional circumstances, treated with greater personal dignity, their ambition treated as a value instead of a flaw, and spoken to with greater respect, and not feel....

I was a very ambitious girl. I had to be. My choices were a marriage in the community I was in--being turned into a professional ornament to some man’s life--penury (and in my experience, men offering to trade me sex and cleaning for meals), or getting a damn job.

I chose to get a damn job, rather than spend the rest of my life dependent on someone who (given that community) would expect me to look pretty, be vacuous, and be a private punching bag when they were annoyed by something at work.

In the deepest parts of me, I feel... mismatched with the world at large. I want to insist, without the fan dance we do to be polite to each other, that I am capable and more than capable. I want to yell at some of my co-workers, who spend so much time telling me how dumb everyone is (while apparently incapable of making eye contact), that my IQ score is probably higher than theirs (as if it would make them respect me--after all, what do I have to show for it? I am a peon.)

It nags at me. I want people to acknowledge that I am special.

But, as my papa (and any number of philosophers) could tell you, me, or anyone else that asks: the net of expectations is a trap.

I contemplate this while one of my co-workers stares fixedly at my chest while talking to me.

I contemplate this while one of my managers absolutely cannot bring himself to acknowledge that I might have a good idea, an idea that if anyone else presents it, is great.

I contemplate this while my co-workers ask me, again, if I really write software, or insist on not using the things I design, making a loud point of “checking it for error” while apparently ignorant that they’ve been using software I’ve written for months.

Who am I?

At work, I am a fleeting thing, slipping through the rings around me. I am immersed in other people’s expectations, and I can feel them around me, but they cannot hold me. They simply occupy eight hours of my day, though I should say that I have very little enthusiasm for what I do left, because I simply do not wish to expose that much skin to this game.

I am complemented for my professionalism from time-to-time by people who then probe it, looking for fault. The answer is, honestly, that no situation (at work or elsewhere) particularly needs me to flame it with my urge to demand that everyone respect mah authoritai.

There is nothing, I suspect, that I could possibly do to get the people I work with to cede me authority anyway.

In the lives of my family, I am a fleeting thing. I can feel their image of me and how they try to apply it, as well as the alternating pattern of their smug satisfaction when they think it fits and their frustrated bafflement when it doesn’t.

Most of them have concluded than I am fundamentally unnatural and washed their hands of it.

In the lives of my friends, I was astounded to learn that I am seen primarily as supernaturally patient, but even that is fleeting and I am not bound by it.

I am worried that the thing I am clinging to the most--that is, the thing which governs my entanglement in the net of expectations--is religion.

I am worried that, when the time comes to join my community, that I will be easily stung by the various slings and arrows aimed at people who don’t look like they match--I will be someone whose makeup foundation should be called “a rumor of beige” in a minority-majority religion, and I fully expect there to be some unpleasantness as a result of it.

I fully expect to hear jokes or cracks about white people from not-white people (already heard them about white people who can’t cook, the last time I was at the temple), and to take flack from white people for not being white enough/acting ethnic as I adjust to the community around me.

I am worried that I will roar in pain and lash out when my commitment is challenged, because religion is the only ‘safe’ place for my poor, fragile need to be the center of every party, the belle of every ball.

I don’t want to fall into that trap.

So in that sense, even though this fucking hurts sometimes, I am grateful to my beloved ones for the fisking and excoriation they routinely have arranged for my sense of social self.

I think they’ll forgive me when I wince, even though I acknowledge that this is incredibly valuable.

I increasingly believe humility is the only skeleton key to human relations--the only way to avoid the negative effects we tend to have on each other and the trap of trying to make the world treat us the way we want to be treated, see us the way we want to be seen.

#vodou #lwa #humility

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baeklooming-day · 5 years

Text

Really Pretty | Baekhyun

This is a part of the drabble challenge.

Original ask comes from anonym

Lines 5 ”I’m not here to make friends.” with 33 ”Are you sure that’s the decision you want to make?” and 92 ”Oh honey, I’d never be jealous of you.”

Summary: There is this boy who melted not only your ice cream but you together with it.

Genre: fluffish

Word count: 1.1k

Inspired by this.

”She’s so pretty.”

You heard the few whispers around you, not paying much attention to them.

Today was a particularly warm day, which followed with an even longer line of people waiting to buy ice cream.

Even though the place was a very popular one for their delicious ice cream, there were never such crowds of people at this hour in the morning.

That’s why about two weeks ago you began coming there every second day to study or simply to read while enjoying your favorite flavors of ice cream.

Usually in the morning everybody was rushing to work, not even thinking of having ice cream that early, so you could peacefully place your order and make yourself comfortable at your favorite table by the big window, further inside the lovely ice cream shop.

You came to really like it there, not only because their ice cream was the best you’ve ever tried, but also because the entire little shop was really pretty and you could have your silence, being unbothered by everything.

”Look, this girl. She’s really pretty.”

You could hear those whispers again, wavering in the air as you walked over to the table by the window.

You were used to it. Beside the silent compliments, you often noticed other people looking at you, but it wasn’t particularly bothersome.

You were told that your beauty stood out, your foreign charm only adding more. You liked to believe that it was the reason why you always heard that you were really pretty wherever you went.

There was never a person who actually came up to you, so you were sure that it won’t change.

Or so you thought.

You made yourself comfortable at the white wooden table, placing your black chocolate ice cream bowl on your right and taking out a book which you were currently reading, ready to completely immerse yourself in it.

Just when you were about to open it where you last finished, someone plopped on the chair in front of you, causing you to immediately look up.

Your eyes were met with a smiling face of a boy, more or less around your age. His eyes were a shape of an almond, his brown fluffy bangs gently falling on his forehead.

He rested his chin on his hand before he spoke. ”Hi.”

You quickly examined his face before responding. ”Excuse me, but do I know you?” You asked politely.

”My name is Baekhyun. Now you know me.” He smiled charmingly at you. ”What’s your name?”

You looked at him with a question in your eyes. ”Y/N. But-”

”Y/N.” He repeated. ”That’s an uncommon name. Ideal for an uncommon beauty like you.”

What?

The question in your eyes must have been visible for him now, because after flashing you another smile he spoke again. ”I saw you coming here almost every day, so I asked if they knew who that pretty foreign girl was.” The boy rested his both arms on the table, still looking at you. ”They said no, so I came to learn it myself.” He grinned.

”Well, that’s nice and all, but I’m not here to make friends.”

”You don’t want friends?” He frowned a little. ”What about a boyfriend then?”

You started coughing. What game was he playing?

”What did you just say?” You said between the coughs.

”If you don’t want friends-” He flashed you a boyish smile. ”Then what about a boyfriend?”

”Boyfriend...” You were looking at the boy, trying to think of way out of this ridiculous situation you ended up being in.

”I’m hoping you don’t have one already. It would make me sad.”

You put your both hands on your book, still looking at him questioningly. ”What was your name again?”

”Baekhyun.”

”Tell me Baekhyun, do you do it often?”

”Do what?”

”Pick up girls.” You put your red lips in a thin line, waiting for his reply.

”I was picking up girls before, but this is my first time trying to pick up a goddess.” He flashed you the cheekiest smile you’ve ever seen.

”Holy-” You crossed your arms. ”One more stupid sentence and I’ll go crazy.”

”Why go crazy if you can go on a date with me instead?” Baekhyun was grinning at you all the time, seeming to be a little too pleased with his comeback.

”Look, I’m literally meeting you for the first time in my life. What is it all about?” You asked. ”I came here to be left alone.”

You were sure that this would finally make him stop all those flirtatious comments, but you couldn’t be more wrong.

”You can be left alone with me.” Baekhyun rested his chin on his both hands and leaned a little forward. ”You’re really pretty, Y/N. You’re becoming even prettier the longer I look at you.”

”Alright, I get it, I’m pretty.” You said. ”Being a girl is horrible sometimes.” You added, mumbling.

”Being my girl wouldn’t.” Baekhyun’s cheeky voice filled your ears for the thousandth time today.

You opened your mouth, not believing that this was real.

The whole situation was hopeless. This boy seemed to have an answer ready for all your attempts to shove him away. An answer that only made you look at him, questioning yourself if you really were so good at discussing like you thought you were.

You were trying to come up with something, but Baekhyun was quicker.

”Will you go on a date with me?”

”No.”

”Come on. Are you sure that’s the decision you want to make?” To your full surprise he still didn’t look discouraged, even a little. ”Why not?”

”I don’t even know you.”

”We can change that.” He was looking you right in the eye.

You let out a deep breath. He really was a persistent one. But oddly, he wasn’t making you feel uncomfortable. Even the opposite.

Thinking about it... He was actually really cute. Maybe a little too forward, but it looked like it was just the way he was.

”Why do you want to take me on a date?”

”Because you are really, really pretty, you seem very interesting and you like ice cream. See, already the first thing we have in common.” He gently tilted his head before adding. ”If you reject me now, won’t you be jealous if someone else wants to date me?”

You let out a laugh. As stupid as it was to you right now, but you had to admit to yourself that he was slowly melting you. You just didn’t want to show it yet. ”Oh honey, I’d never be jealous of you.” Now it was you who cheekily smiled at him.

Baekhyun mirrored you. ”We’ll see.” He looked at your chocolate ice cream, now a liquid in the black bowl. ”Your ice cream is melted. Are you?”

It was obvious what he was asking again.

You looked at him, hope visible in his almond eyes.

”It looks like I am.”

A/N: i might have a thing for cheeky baekhyun. drabble ask box is open! you can always send me lines from the list i linked down below! thank you for reading and as always feel free to reblog if you want!

drabble list

#exo #exo scenarios #exo scenario #baekhyun #baekhyun scenarios #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun imagines #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun angst #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #exo fluff #exo imagine #exo imagines

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novelconcepts · 5 years

Text

Okay, but all silliness aside: I owe a ridiculous amount to Critical Role. Or, more specifically, to having found CR when I did. I came in around the beginning of the second campaign, and I had no idea what this thing was. I didn’t know a damn thing about D&D. I didn’t watch gamers stream. I think I’d been on Twitch a handful of times to watch Jim Lee draw, and that was...it.

I came into Critical Role having seen a handful of gifs on my dash from people whose opinions I trust, and I realized Ashley Johnson was involved. That was my full base of knowledge: Ashley “hey, I know her from Recess/Growing Pains, I like her” Johnson was the whole deal. And that could have been a breaking point early on, because the first thirty episodes of Campaign 1 are a little rough if you don’t know what you’re getting into. The audio is questionable in places, it can be hard to track what’s going on, there’s the whole...obvious cast issue. And if you came in knowing only Ashley, you didn’t even get that lifeline the whole way through.

But here’s the thing: this was 2017? I had just gotten married, and while I married the love of my life, who I had been engaged to--we originally had a slapdash courthouse wedding the day after the election, because it was the only safety net we could grab hold of. At least it would be a legal marriage, in case something really cataclysmic happened before our actual wedding date. I was obsessively refreshing six different news sites every hour while at work, and falling down the darkest political rabbit holes on Twitter every night. I was have terror dreams of nuclear fallout and panic attacks over climate change...and, on top of all the fear and the anger broiling in me, my dysphoria was getting worse by the day. My anxiety. My depression. I was sinking. Fast. So I did the only thing I know how to do when things get truly bad inside my head.

I hid inside stories.

Namely, I hid inside Critical Role. The new campaign wasn’t quite on its feet yet, so I went back and started with Vox Machina. I went into these 3-5 hour episodes, letting them play in the background at work, letting these people I did not know or even really get yet into my head. And, at first, it was just the fascination of the concept. A long-form narrative built by upwards of 8 people, all sitting around a table, just...improvising. Not an inch of that is the way I tell stories, so it was brilliant and baffling, and curiosity had me straight out the gate.

And, if it had just been the concept, that still might not have been enough to hold my attention. If it had just been the idea of it, it might not have been loud enough to drown out the voices in my head telling me the whole ship was going down, that there was no hope, that there was no point in even getting up in the morning to face more bullshit.

But...it was Matt Mercer. Matt, with such an incredible array of characters and maps living inside his head, who could so easily have been That Guy--the English Major Asshole who knew he was smarter than everyone in the room and played it up--and instead chooses to be so kind. So utterly engrossed in the desire to give everyone a seat at the table, to let everybody into the narrative he’s weaving. It takes a certain kind of person to not only write the sort of stories he invents for CR, but to be open enough to lean back and let other people take the wheel every night, and to roll with whatever comes his way.

And it was Travis Willingham. This huge dude who had to sit at the edge of the table because he was all muscle and thumping energy, who I kept expecting to be tight-lipped and brewing with that toxic masculinity judgment straight dudes are taught to value--and, instead of even a modicum of that, he was so excited. So invested in these characters and this game, in these friends, in playing the wisest dumbass ever to cross a screen. Travis, who hugs his male friends, and doesn’t pull the no-homo card, and stans his wife with such delight, there is no way you can watch even half an episode without falling in love with their love.

And it was Liam O’Brien, who could have played the arrogant Cool Dude, and instead leaned so hard into having fun with his place at the table. Into deep-cut jokes, and his love for his friends, and such an affinity for Laura that I genuinely believed they were siblings. Liam, who wears his soft heart on his sleeve, and understands that sometimes the best way through tragedy is to weave it into a story, to let that be a kind of therapy among friends.

And it was Taliesin Jaffe. Tal, who is just gonna be him, and not even fuck you if you don’t like it--he doesn’t even seem to notice. Tal, who is physical with his friends, and who laughs with his whole body, and who has the quickest one-liners in the world one minute and “life needs things to live” the next, and who just is such a joy to watch as he immerses himself at the table. He’s gonna have his hair, and he’s gonna wear mismatched socks, and he’s gonna paint those nails, and love his people, and inspire everyone around him to do the same.

And it was Sam Riegel, who--I’ll be honest--I didn’t get for a while. He was hilarious, and he was a quick-draw, and I loved his songs, but I didn’t understand how much he cared, how truly in it he was. Sam has said he’d do anything to make these people laugh, and I don’t think everyone realizes just how valuable it is to have someone who understands the need of a good laugh in a bad situation. Sam lights up the table in the strangest, silliest ways--but he also brings some of the most vital human moments to the story.

And it was Laura Bailey, who was just so...warm, it bleeds straight through the screen and envelopes me every time I watch her play. Vex is cool as shit on the surface, but Laura is so full of affection, so quick-witted, so hugely into this game that she transforms herself utterly when she plays. Laura comes to the table to play with everything she’s got, and she’s so honest when she does it. Impeccable voice work one minute, flirtatious wink the next, and then she’s dying laughing at a dick joke. It’s so open, it’s impossible not to love.

And it was Marisha Ray. Marisha, who took so much shit, and came out the other side standing taller than ever. Marisha, who commits wholeheartedly in voice, in affectation, in climbing up on her chair or lunging backward out of it. From day one, I was rooting for Marisha--I was inspired by Keyleth getting to grow up onscreen, as I’ve been invested in Beau slowly cracking open and letting herself shine out from the spaces she’s spent so much time shoring up. She loves these characters like true friends, and she loves her people, and she loves her husband, and she loves this craft to such a degree, I want to quit my job and come work for her instead. There’s such a strength and a dignity to her that I find myself needing to be stronger, too.

And, of course, it was Ashley Johnson--deceptively sweet, intensely funny, so much tougher than she looks, and when she turns up in a game, the affection could fill a stadium. Ashley being in town or on Skype for a game is like coming into a party and finding a friend you hadn’t gotten to hang out with in six months waiting for you. Everything just feels brighter with her in the game.

And it is a game, and it is a story, but the family these people have built--people I’ll likely never meet, people who live on the opposite side of the country--is somehow big enough to let complete strangers bask in its reflected glow. I built a habit of listening to CR at work...and then talking about it to my wife, with all the hyper-fixation glee I can’t help when I fall in love with something...and then I was putting it on at home so she could fall in love, too. I was putting on Talks or Between the Sheets while I ran on the treadmill, or when I needed to focus on a project. I put on episodes I’d already seen when I was sad, or when I was lonely, or when I just needed something to fill the silence and keep the darkness in my head behind a wall. For two years, I’ve gone back to these people again and again. To the silly videos. To the serious conversations. To the Twitter feeds and the fanart people can’t resist making to commemorate these characters who feel so tangible.

Matt always ends the stream with a claim of love, and with most shows, with most streamers, with most people, that just feels like words. With these guys, with the way they open up and share this lightning in a bottle family and story they have created with the rest of us, it feels honest. It feels like these are long-lost friends who may never be in the same room, but are always there when I am drowning because the world is a nightmare, because work is kicking my ass, because this gushing essay is the most I’ve written in months. They are so good. They are human, and fallible, and invested in telling stories that get dark and ugly one minute, and devolve into hysteria the next, because that’s what life looks like. Even life with gods and magic and talking swords and goldfish deaths.

Critical Role keeps me throwing my shoulders back, keeps me laughing, keeps me insisting on showing the people in my life how much they mean to me. Critical Role keeps me on the board when the demons in my head have me thinking it’d be easier to throw the game. It’s a show, and it’s silly, but it’s given me such a safe, warm place to curl up in some of the bleakest times of my life, and I love them so much for being willing to share some of that light with the rest of the world. They’ve given me a place on the internet that truly does feel like home.

#critical role #long post #critter #there are a lot of stories and storytellers i love with all my heart #but there are so few that make me feel the things the CR cast and crew and narratives do #and i am so grateful for every minute of it they are willing to give #anyway i've been wanting to write something like this since i finished the VM campaign the first time around

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undertheinktree · 5 years

Text

Trust Fall (2/2)

part 1

The Archangel raised his right arm to show he was holding a scale. The plates, apparently empty, were tilted to the left, defying Earth’s laws of physics. “You will follow me without resistance or you will suffer the consequences. Do you understand?”

*****

Aziraphale couldn’t sleep that night. Truth be told, he wasn’t very keen on sleeping in general. He did enjoy taking naps after hearty meals, but they rarely lasted more than a handful of minutes. The night the world hadn’t ended he had actually managed to sleep for a couple of hours before waking up excitedly yelling he had figured out what Agnes Nutter’s last prophecy meant. His sleeping record was set in 1865, when he had lost consciousness for almost six hours, his mind clouded by French wine, opium fumes and words of decadence – but he didn’t like talking about that.

That night, however, he probably wouldn’t have been able to sleep even if he’d wanted to, caught up in the turmoil of emotions the afternoon had brought.

When they had got back to the bookshop Crowley had offered to stay with him – an offer he had phrased like “I’m too tired to drive to my apartment, can I crash on your couch?”, but that Aziraphale had understood was really a “Let me keep an eye on you”. He had refused, saying he needed some time alone.

Immersed in silence, with his mind free to wander and to conjure up images of flames and Falling angels, he started to regret his choice.

Unable to sleep, Aziraphale prayed instead. The human way: on his knees, with folded hands and eyes shut tight, whispering psalms and hymns someone else had written centuries before. The human way, he felt like his words were falling on deaf ears.

His sigh resounded in the silence of the empty bookshop and he was struck by an overwhelming sensation of loneliness. Stumbling on his feet he sprinted to the phone and picked up the receiver with shaky hands. He had already dialled half of Crowley’s number when something in his mind switched, and the fear that was quickly building up inside of him stepped into the light and showed itself for what it really was: resentment.

“No, this is not right,” he declared out loud, slamming the phone down. He started pacing the floor on restless feet.

“This is Your fault! I shouldn’t feel alone right now, You are supposed to be by my side in times of need, aren’t You?” he slurred pointing a finger at the ceiling, almost expecting the wooden beams to dematerialise and God Herself to descend to Earth just to answer to his accusation. It didn’t happen, but the thought of it was enough to make Aziraphale tone down the anger in his voice. He started fidgeting with his hands, torn between the need of answers and the aversion to open disobedience that, despite everything, was still part of his nature.

“Am I already damned, then? Or am I just so insignificant I don’t even deserve to feel Your presence?” he asked.

“Just let me understand. Is this somehow part of Your ineffable plan? Am I supposed to Fall? Or have I really strayed that far?”

The events of the previous twelve years had destroyed any faith Aziraphale had in Heaven and his fellow angels. Slowly, begrudgingly, he had faced the senselessness of their Manichaeism and their twisted moral code and had accepted that their system was broken. Nonetheless, he had always held on to the idea that everything since the beginning of time had been part of the Almighty’s plan. Crowley tempting Eve in the Garden, him giving Adam his sword, the Antichrist being raised by the wrong family, the averted Apocalypse, all part of an enormous game not even an angel’s intellect was able to understand.

Was this simply Her next move or had he got it all wrong?

“I mean, I know I have done…some bad things,” he admitted “I know that. I’m far from perfect. But am I really worse than all those who follow any order they’re given without wondering who could be hurt in the process? All those who wanted to completely destroy the Earth and wipe out the human race? Who tried to kill me and Crowley?”

Saying the demon’s name out loud raised another doubt in his mind.

“Is this about him?”

He immediately dismissed the idea shaking his head.

“You can’t tell me it’s about Crowley. You are the one who made me able to love. To love him. No, I refuse to believe that’s in any way wrong. But what is it, then? What have I done? Do You really want me to be punished or do You just don’t care if I am?”

He saw his own reflection in the big mirror leaning on the wall in the corner of the room. He looked very tired.

“Are You even there? It’s been so long,” he murmured, exhaustion echoing in his voice.

A shiver went down his spine at the thought of everything he had said up to that point being nothing more than a soliloquy, a stream of consciousness destined to remain unheard and unanswered.

“Am I asking too many questions?”

He stared at his image in the mirror. The face he had worn for thousands of years, usually lit by excitement, serenity and self-esteem, stared back at him with a mixture of doubt, pain and confusion. Behind it he could glimpse at his true form, the one he hadn’t fully embraced in millennia and had almost forgotten. An Angel in the truest sense of the word, who fully belonged to Heaven, was sure of what his purpose was and barely had a conscience of his own. For a moment his face morphed into an unfamiliar expression, blank stare, upper lip raised and nose wrinkled in disgust.

“Of course I am,” he spat out, “Angels aren’t supposed to ask questions, right?”

“Come with me.”

Aziraphale turned around stumbling on his own feet. The menacing glare of the angel behind him was enough for him to immediately put on the polite smile he was so used to showcasing with his former bosses.

“Michael,” he said, trying to suppress the terror in his voice with a cheerful intonation “I wasn’t expecting you.”

The Archangel raised his right arm to show he was holding a scale. The plates, apparently empty, were tilted to the left, defying Earth’s laws of physics.

“You will follow me without resistance or you will suffer the consequences. Do you understand?”

Aziraphale’s fake smile faltered. He was sure he had already seen that same expression in the Archangel’s eyes once, long before the beginning of Time, when he had faced and defeated what was once God’s most faithful servant.

“Already?” he asked, the reality of the situation slowly dawning on him.

“You were created with a great deal of divinity inside of you, principality. You have squandered it.”

“All right, then.” Aziraphale took a deep breath and straightened his spine. “Let us have done with it.”

***

“Aziraphale!” Gabriel’s smile was as broad, as bright and as condescending as usual. Behind him, dozens of angels were lined up facing Aziraphale, making it clear that if he had tried to do anything stupid he wouldn’t have had any chances of succeeding.

“Is it actually you in there? If I’m not mistaken last time we saw you you were possessed by a demon.”

Aziraphale replied with a smile just as fake. “Last time you saw me you tried to kill me, if I am not mistaken either.”

Standing beside him Michael gave him a push, in a silent threat.

“I’m sure you understand we were in an emergency situation,” Gabriel explained as if his and Crowley’s extinction was just business as usual. “We had been in an arms race for six thousand years and were suddenly placed in disarmament. Order had to be re-established as quickly as possible.”

“Of course.” Aziraphale could taste his scorn for the Archangel on his tongue.

“Moreover, I believe you now wish we had carried out the execution, don’t you?”

Gabriel’s smile widened even more, but the malicious twinkle in his purple eyes made Aziraphale turn pale.

“It’s been ages since the last Fall,” he continued. “It’s a bit of an inconvenience of course, losing one of ours to the other side. But we do what we must.” The confident façade Aziraphale was already struggling to maintain began to crumble under Gabriel’s mellifluous voice. “I must admit, it will be interesting seeing how much Hell is going to affect you. It’s almost a shame. So soft and weak. I imagine it won’t take much to break you.”

“You are cruel. Why are you even doing this?” he asked, unable to dissimulate the shakiness in his voice. Gabriel shrugged.

“We cannot keep a demon in our ranks.”

“But I am not a demon!”

Just like the previous afternoon, Aziraphale found himself dizzy and short of breath, his mind clouded by quickly approaching panic. Was he becoming a demon? How bad would it be? Crowley was a demon. Was it a good thing, then? On Gabriel’s lips the simple word sounded like the worst of insults.

“I’m an angel…” he murmured. He realized that word said out loud sounded just as degrading.

“Are you?” Gabriel scoffed “I believe Michael’s psychostasia said the opposite.”

Aziraphale remembered the unbalanced scale the Archangel had showed him in the bookshop and whatever hope he had of being absolved by the jury of angels in front of him vanished in thin air.

“This makes no sense,” he muttered. “I’m a good person.”

“That’s the point, Aziraphale, you are not a person. We are supposed to be better,” Gabriel replied, patronizing. “Let’s see. That old shop of yours. All the things you hoard in it. Not only it’s frankly disturbing, it’s Greed. That’s a sin, you do realize that.”

The jury angels all nodded in agreement.

“What about Sloth? Have you ever really put any effort in the work the Almighty assigned to you? How often have you actually, actively performed Good?”

In response Aziraphale just shook his head, unable to form a sentence.

“Gluttony. That’s a big one for you, isn’t it?” Gabriel resumed “All that disgusting organic stuff you are ceaselessly ingesting…”

“It’s just food. It tastes nice,” he managed to say.

“You don’t need it! It’s just a human thing. You see, that’s a big part of your problem.” The Archangel wagged his finger at Aziraphale, who recoiled. “You are too invested in humans and their oddities. You have always been obsessed with them. I would dare to say that you wish you were just like them. Which brings me to Envy.”

“Stop it, Gabriel, please. All of this is ridiculous.” Aziraphale could feel tears springing up behind his eyes, while the Archangel’s accusations dug grooves in everything he thought he knew and everything he thought he had learnt in thousands of years. Was Gabriel right?

“Now, Lust. We obviously heard your little ‘I love you Crowley’ rant last afternoon, so…”

Aziraphale felt his whole body freeze in an instant.

“You heard?”

“Of course, what did you expect? We’ve been observing you these last few days. We needed to know if you were actually, irredeemably corrupted. And as you can see…”

“But that’s not Lust!” Aziraphale was able to collect enough air in his lungs to stop muttering and begin to yell instead. “It has nothing to do with it, Love is a good thing! It’s the good thing!”

Michael’s grip on his arm tightened.

“Oh. Is this Wrath?”

“Wra- this is common sense! Love is not Lust! Why would Love be wrong?”

“Aziraphale…” Gabriel’s voice wasn’t far from the voice an old woman would use when speaking to a toddler “We’re talking about a demon.”

An outraged muttering rose from the jury.

“You will not convince me that Love is a capital sin, Gabriel. What do you even know about it?”

“Mind how you speak, Aziraphale. We are angels. Love is our essence.” The Archangel took step towards him, dropping his over-polite demeanour. His voice was still calm and controlled but it had dropped an octave and sounded more menacing to Aziraphale’s ear. “You are basically a demon by now, the farthest thing from Love there is. You are the one who will no longer sense Love. You will no longer receive it in any way. You will no longer feel it.”

To everybody’s surprise, including his own, Aziraphale broke into a harsh laugh. For a moment he thought he could hear an echo of Crowley’s voice in his own.

“I must say I pity you, Gabriel. You have no idea what you are talking about.”

“You think?”

“I know. You are not making any sense.”

“Sure. Pride, that’s another big one for you, isn’t it?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. All the terror and self-doubt he had felt until a few minutes before had reached their peak to the point all he could actually feel was weariness.

“This is absurd. You are just making up excuses to toss me out because, for whatever reason, you have always hated me.”

“We’re angels, we do not hate.” “Well, then I see why I’m not an angel anymore.” He was getting nauseated and just wanted that pointless inquisition to be over. All the questions he had been asking himself for hours, what was really right and wrong, how much he would change, what he would or wouldn’t still be able to feel, all of that didn’t matter anymore.

“Once I Fall, will you leave me alone?” he asked with a deadpan expression.

Gabriel scoffed “The farther we will be the better I will feel.”

“All right, then.” With a yank Aziraphale freed his arm from Michael’s grip, who left his side to reach Gabriel’s. He tried to pull himself together the best he could, fixing his linen shirt and taking deep breaths to choke back his tears one last time. He managed to put on what was the shadow of his old, phoney smile and found relief in the thought that he wouldn’t need it anymore.

“You know, I wish you were able to understand how wrong you are. I will pray for you, Gabriel.”

The Archangel wrinkled his nose “Yeah. Please don’t.” He turned to face the other angels.

“Shall we?” he asked. The jury nodded in agreement.

Immediately Aziraphale could feel a surge of energy whirl all around them, tingling on his fingertips and making his hair stand. The dazzling light of Heaven began to quickly fade, leaving as the only light source the bright halos of the angels, suddenly visible.

The ground under his feet started to shake but he was the only one who had to struggle to keep his balance: the others were standing perfectly still, staring at him with their eyes glowing so brightly he was almost blinded.

Gabriel’s three sets of wings cut through the planes of reality and appeared fully spread, their umber feathers ruffled by a non-existing wind. When he turned again and spoke, his voice came straight from a Time so remote that the meaning of the words he pronounced had been forgotten by all the other angels.

Dazed, Aziraphale stepped back. When his foot landed in the void, he had just the time to take one last look of the angels that were pushing him to his damnation.

Then he was Falling.

He hurled through the air at an unbearable speed, his arms and legs appearing and disappearing from his view as they pointlessly spun around as if with a conscience of their own. Instinctively he opened his wings to break the fall, but to no avail.

He kept his eyes fixed on Heaven, above him, farther and farther away, blurred by the tears that he had finally allowed to fill his eyes.

When his white feathers caught fire he tried to scream, but the wind pushing on his chest was too strong and his voice died before reaching his throat.

The excruciating pain within him matched the one on his skin, numbing both his senses and his mind.

He stopped struggling.

It is said that when a man dies he can see all his life flash before his eyes, as if Death operated by pressing the rewind button on an old VHS recorder.

Aziraphale wasn’t a man and he wasn’t actually dying; nevertheless, during his apparently endless Fall a huge amount of images and sounds flooded his mind, mixing up and chasing one another, presenting him the evidence of all the Sins he had been accused of. Books, tea, Crowley’s eyes, warm wool sweaters, sponge cake, Crowley’s laughter, vinyl records, Crowley’s wit, choosing to help, Crowley’s light-heartedness, choosing to disobey, Crowley’s hands, drinking with Crowley, magic tricks, Crowley’s thoughtfulness, sharing lunches with Crowley, listening to Crowley’s rants, running his fingers through Crowley’s hair, Crowley’s kindness, Crowley.

Crowley was a constant in so many of these thoughts that when a pair of black wings wrapped around Aziraphale’s body he thought for a moment he was only imagining them. Then he thought that he had pictured him so intensely he had accidentally summoned him. Then he thought that of course Crowley was there, ha had promised he would catch him.

Then they crashed.

***

Crowley’s shoulder hit the ground first. He heard the snapping sound of bones breaking, but he immediately willed them back in their place before his body could register the pain.

He held Aziraphale tighter as they tumbled in dirt and dust in a remote, godforsaken corner of Hell.

When they finally came to a stop, all of Crowley’s muscles went limp and he collapsed on his back, trying to steady his breath. Above him, the ground that had recoiled at their passage was closing again, blocking any view of Heaven and the sky, just like it had done thousands and thousands of years before.

It took him a couple of minutes to come to his senses and realize Aziraphale was clenching his shirt, eyes shut tight and face buried in his chest, still bracing for impact.

“Hey,” he said, slowly sitting up. “It’s over. You’re all right. It’s over.” Carefully, as if approaching a wounded animal, he touched Aziraphale’s cheek with the point of his fingers.

When he turned to look at him, startled, Crowley’s stomach dropped.

Beneath Aziraphale’s pale skin soiled by grime and soot, bright red streaks ran through his right arm, starting on his fingertips, climbing his shoulder and his neck and reaching his lobe, branching out like hundreds of tiny capillaries. Still, what struck Crowley the most were Aziraphale’s eyes. In particular what struck him the most were his pupils, them too bright red as if in a photo shot in darkness with a bright flash.

A moment later Aziraphale threw his arms around Crowley’s waist and hid his face in the crook of his neck. His shrill scream pierced through Crowley’s head and through his heart. Crowley felt the urge to squeeze him with all the strength he could muster but, knowing the pain he was in at the moment, he just carefully wrapped his arms around his shoulders and gently caressed the back of his head. He gathered all the energy he could from the Hell that surrounded them and focused it on Aziraphale, hoping it would soothe an ounce of his pain.

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered, feeling Aziraphale shake in his arms and his tears wet his collarbone “I couldn’t stop it. I tried. I didn’t know how.”

He cradled him for what felt like forever, whispering apologies, curses and words of comfort.

Every time he laid eyes on his white wings, broken, bleeding and smouldering, a sharp pain in his chest brought to his mind the idea he was ignoring at all costs: the Aziraphale he had known for six thousand years was gone. Crowley knew too well what Falling felt like, he remembered how deeply and abruptly it had changed him, and the thought that the same thing had happened to his Angel filled him with anger.

Like thousands of years before he felt a surge of loathing towards Heaven and all those who had just decided to ruin the Universe wasting what he knew was the best thing of all Creation. Fury grew in him but he strived to keep still and just clenched his teeth, pressing his lips to the top of Aziraphale’s head, keeping him as close as possible while he could, afraid that the moment he would let him go everything he was dreading would become real.

“They will regret doing this to you,” he hissed “We’re gonna make them pay for this.”

“There is no need.” Aziraphale’s voice was so quiet Crowley barely heard him despite their proximity. Something in it, however, instilled a drop of hope in the middle of his anger and despair.

“What did you say?” he asked, pulling Aziraphale away from his chest just enough to look at his face. The corners of Aziraphale’s mouth were curled into a smile. Crowley looked at him in shock, unable to fully process what he was seeing.

“There is no need,” Aziraphale repeated. “I don’t care. They will leave us alone. I’m all right.”

Crowley gaped at him and cupped his face with shaky hands. Aziraphale’s blue eyes were puffy from crying and the unnaturally red pupils were impossible to ignore, yet they were just as bright, soft and kind as they were the day before.

“It’s you,” Crowley croaked, squeezing Aziraphale’s cheeks in excitement “It’s still you. Actually you. How is it still you?”

“Crowley…” Aziraphale laughed softly, pulling Crowley’s hands away from his face.

“I don’t understand, it can’t be you… You were an angel, you’re not an angel anymore, you’re a demon. Are you a demon? You’re not a demon. Why are you not a demon? Are you still an angel? You should be a demon.”

“Crowley, please.”

“Yes. Slowing down, yes. Just…It’s you,” he sputtered, nearly shaking in exhilaration.

“My dear…” Aziraphale wiped tears off his face with the ripped sleeve of his shirt, then he squeezed Crowley’s hands. “I’ve fallen for you in every way was possible,” he said with a hoarse and weak voice. “If there is something I’ve learned it’s that Grace is overrated. Words like Heaven, Hell, Angel or Demon… They really don’t mean anything. Angels can be cruel, wicked and vengeful. Demons can be loved. I don’t care what Heaven decides to call me, I don’t belong there just like I don’t belong in Hell.”

“But,” Crowley said “It makes no sense. You were an angel and you Fell. Doesn’t that mean that now you are… Just like me?” His lips twitched: after being a demon for millennia putting Aziraphale at his own level felt like the worst blasphemy he had ever spoken.

“Crowley, can’t you see? I have always been.”

Crowley realized he was crying only when Aziraphale caressed his cheek, rubbing a tear away with his thumb. Then he delicately pulled him down towards him and softly kissed his forehead.

It wasn’t a blessing, it couldn’t be, not anymore, yet it felt like one. All of Crowley’s worries and doubts instantly dissolved in the knowledge that Aziraphale would never change, and he breathed a sigh of relief he felt he had been holding for thousands of years.

“Well,” Aziraphale said. “I believe it’s time we go back to Earth, what do you say?”

Crowley nodded with a smile. “Can you walk?”

“I think so.”

“Come on then.” He got to his feet and offered him a hand. “Let’s go home, Angel.”

That would never change either.

***

The sun had already started to set when Aziraphale put on the kettle in the little kitchen in the back of his bookshop. For the first time in millennia of existence he had slept for over twelve hours, slumped on the couch in a position that would have been deleterious to any human being’s back. Admittedly, Aziraphale’s whole body was sore, but he suspected that was mostly due to Falling from Heaven rather than uncomfortable cushions.

A pang of burning pain between his shoulder blades made him wince and almost spill his cup of boiling tea. He moved his head from side to side in hope of releasing some tension.

“It hurts?”

Crowley appeared from behind a bookshelf as if he had summoned him.

“Just a bit,” he answered.

A moment later Crowley had slithered behind him and placed a hand on his back. Aziraphale immediately felt the pain miraculously ease, and he sighed in relief.

“Thank you.” Gratitude warming his chest, he flashed a smile at Crowley, who replied with a dismissive wave and leaned against the counter beside him.

“I threw away your flask of holy water,” he said causally, pretending not to see the dirty look Aziraphale threw at him. “You know, the emergency supply you had in the cabinet upstairs.”

“Crowley, are you out of your mind?” Aziraphale hissed. “What if the lid was unscrewed for whatever reason? What if you dropped it? You could have at least waited for me to wake up.”

Crowley groaned. “Relax, I was careful. Do you have other?”

“Obviously not, I would have told you.” he replied, piqued.

“Angel, you have to stay away from that stuff too, from now on. You know that, right?”

The honest concern in Crowley’s voice softened Aziraphale, who sighed.

“Yes, of course.”

The mirror in the corner made it clear that even though Falling hadn’t had the impact he dreaded on his mind and his heart, it still had changed some things.

He stared in silence at his unfamiliar reflection for a few minutes, sipping from his cup. He followed the red lines on his neck with a finger, frowning.

Crowley bumped his shoulder with his own. “Don’t rack your brains. You’ll get used to it.”

Aziraphale nodded with a slight smile. “I guess I will start wearing turtlenecks.”

“Why not? Might suit you.”

“I’m not gonna lie, the red pupils are a bit creepy. Will I have to wear sunglasses?” He scrunched up his nose “They’re not really my thing.”

“There’s no need. Humans hardly ever notice,” Crowley scuffed. “You look fine anyway. I mean, your eyes. They’re nice. I mean. Red pupils, kinda cool. Yeah.” He coughed.

“For crying out loud, wear whatever you want, that’s my point.”

Aziraphale finished his tea. He put the cup down on the counter and took a deep breath.

“Thank you, Crowley. For everything. Really, I owe you so much.”

“Shut up.” Crowley crossed his arms and turned away from Aziraphale, but he was still able to catch a pleased smile.

They stood there for a few minutes, enjoying the comfort of each other’s company.

Crowley was the one who broke the silence clearing his throat.

“Angel,” he said tentatively, gazing at the floor “That thing you said yesterday…”

Aziraphale tilted his head towards him. “I’ve said a lot of things yesterday. It was a pretty eventful day.”

“You know, about… me. Well, you. And me. What you said. About what you felt.”

“The fact that I love you?”

Crowley cleared his throat again. “That’s the thing.”

“What about it?” Aziraphale asked, feeling his chest tightening slightly.

Crowley kept his head down but glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes.

“Did you mean it?”

Aziraphale looked at him with a fond smile.

“With all my soul.”

Crowley pursed his lips and nodded.

“Is it still true?”

“Why?” Aziraphale asked “Can’t Fallen angels love?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Aziraphale stepped away from the counter and placed himself in front of Crowley, leaning in to catch his eyes.

“It would make sense, though, Gabriel told me so. Could a demon ever love?”

He batted his lashes with a naïve expression. Crowley leaned back and kept shifting his gaze from the floor to the wall to the ceiling, unable to suppress a grin.

“You bastard,” he said. “Stop it, I know what you’re doing.”

“What?” Aziraphale teased, “You’re the expert here, I’m only asking questions.”

“You’re a natural at this, aren’t you?” Crowley laughed. He placed his hands on Aziaphale’s shoulders and softly pushed him away.

“Okay, fine,” he sighed. “Yes, I know first-hand that a demon can love. A whole lot, as a matter of fact.”

“First-hand, you say?” Aziraphale beamed, scrunching his nose.

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Come on, you’ve always known,” he muttered.

“I might have suspected it, yes,” Aziraphale said. He gently caressed his cheek, feeling warmth spread under his touch.

“Good Lord, are you crying now, my dear?”

“I’m not,” Crowley lied, burying his face in his neck.

“There, there, it’s all right.” Aziraphale wrapped his arms around him with a laugh.

The burning pain in his back where his wings would be still hadn’t worn out and seeing his own reflection in the mirror still felt somehow wrong.

Yet, in that moment, Aziraphale felt the closest to Heaven he had felt in thousands of years.

#good omens #good omens fic #fallen aziraphale #ineffable husbands #i can't believe i finished i may or may not have cried while writing this #i write stuff

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illegiblewords · 5 years

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FOR CONFUSED BYSTANDERS

I know that I have a lot of followers who have been (very patiently) witnessing a stream of pictures, commentary, and general posts related to Final Fantasy XIV. This is going to be my attempt to present the game and its story with context for you guys who have no idea what’s going on.

I’m doing this for two reasons, the first being I LOVE THIS GAME. If I can share the positive experience I’ve had with other people, I’d like to do that. The second reason is, for people who still follow but aren’t necessarily going to play themselves--it might offer enough background info to make posts that go up more entertaining at least. I know I don’t personally mind seeing bloggers, writers, artists, etc. share something I’m unfamiliar with, but it gets more fun when I have some clue what it’s about.

Parts of this post will be just about my own subjective experience, some will be recapping the story, some will be going over different ways I’ve seen people play in case that appeals. So on and so forth. I’m aiming to offer an honest reflection on whatever seems important.

Putting this under a cut because really, this is fucking long. Not as long as it looks because pictures are included but even still. For anyone who reads, I hope you enjoy and if you have questions don’t hesitate to hit me up! :)

BACKGROUND - NON-MMO PLAYER LOVES THIS MMO

I have never played an MMO before this. I’m pretty apathetic about them for the most part. When I play games I like to design things, get good pictures, and kill baddies for stress relief. I'm here to immerse in an exciting world and story, meet characters I can invest in. Stuff in that vein. So far as gaming goes I’m pretty simple.

There are people who put heavy emphasis on the social elements of FFXIV. They’ll play with their friends specifically, either because they’re focused on fighting together or because they want to roleplay or just to hang out. I’m not really in that category.

I entered knowing no one, and while I’ve made some friends through FFXIV I mostly interact with them outside the game itself. This can happen on tumblr, on forums, on the official blog platform, etc. In-game, I encounter other players all the time but it is generally something like “I was running around the city doing stuff and other people were also running around the city doing stuff”. You can approach people. You can message them and do little emotes like waving or hugging or slapping or whatever. You can do these emotes directed at nobody and just see your character go through the animations, which can be fun for taking pictures.

More detailed encounters with other players happen in dungeons, trials, and raids. These are called registered duties. Guildhests and PVP (player versus player) exist too, but I haven’t done them. I’ll elaborate later, but the gist you need to know here is that you are grouped in with a fixed number of additional players and then placed in a setting with a pre-set encounter or encounters to overcome. Some of these are straightforward, some require strategy.

In FFXIV, people usually chat to varying degrees during duties. Most are polite, pleasant, and focused on gameplay. At least where I am, which I’ll also go into later. Occasionally there are people who are jerks in the sense that they are inconsiderate or rude to other players. Also occasionally, people are incompetent. More often though I’ll encounter someone with a great sense of humor or people who have helpful tips to improve.

This is a game where, if you see a player marked as new struggling with low level monsters, a more experienced player might pause to oneshot that monster so the newbie can escape. People are casually nice most of the time.

Since I’d normally be doing single-player anyway, for me this is very refreshing. I get to do all the things I’d be doing in a single-player video game, but I also get light exchanges with other fans in ways that aren’t disruptive. There’s enough meat to the Main Quest Scenario (MSQ) and side quests that I don’t feel bored or lonely at all.

FFXIV does cost money to play and has a subscription. This can be paid in varying increments. I personally think it’s worth it because 1) the developers are adding new content on a pretty regular basis 2) the developers actually care about quality and having happy fans 3) the game keeps getting better over time 4) there is SO MUCH you can do in the game. It is truly expansive beyond anything else I’ve seen. I might not be ready to do a subscription with every game, but for this one absolutely.

This essentially plays like a normal final fantasy game in most respects. You might run around solo by-and-large, but there is an NPC supporting cast. They and the villains get fleshed out very well. Same goes for civilians and other background characters. The biggest difference off the top of my head is the story’s beginning...

OBSTACLES

I’m going to get this out of the way early, but in essence I think there are two main obstacles as a beginner. The first and most notable of these is that the game’s entry point, called “A Realm Reborn”, is less well-written and EXTREMELY LONG.

Seriously. I’ve only gotten one character past this point and it took me a stupid amount of time. Some of the quests at this stage are things like “my dad doesn’t like the stinky chocobo please spray it with perfume so it is less stinky”. Or “jump through all these stupid hoops so you can fight the exciting boss you’ve been waiting for”.

However, the length at least is slotted to be fixed in the future. I’ll probably announce that when it happens in case that’s the deal changer for anyone.

On writing quality, it starts off mediocre. However, later writing is so strong that it actually manages to make past scenes WAY more interesting. The initial setup also kind of lures you into a false sense of security, at which point shit gets real very fast.

The second obstacle for beginners involves a degree of not knowing what you don’t know. For example, there is an extremely powerful attack that can be used in registered duties called “Limit Break”. Initially I didn’t even know where to find it to put in my move hotbar. Then I didn’t know that using it would take limit break away from other players in the group. Then I didn’t know that the limit breaks of different jobs needed to be used under different circumstances. An example of this would be that spellcaster SHOULD use a limit break attack on freakishly large groups of enemies, but SHOULD NOT use limit break on a lone boss unless there is literally no other damage class (DPS) available to do it. This is because the overall impact of caster limit break is comparatively low, but effects more enemies at the same time. Using limit break inappropriately can frustrate people.

There are other things similar to this, such as when you use Duty Finder (a roulette that sets you up with completely random people interested in the same registered duty) and when you use Party Finder (where you announce what registered duty you want to do with what circumstances, then people volunteer to join), or being aware of which moves are supposed to be used in which order for top efficiency. That said, if you tell people you’re completely new they’ll usually be willing to explain.

If it’s something like “how do I use the glamour plates to switch into designs I made easily” or “how does crafting even work”, youtube is very helpful too! Overall just take initiative and communicate to people your experience level while in groups and things tend to work out.

THE STORY

Disclaimer: Recaps get less detailed over time to avoid spoiling too hard.

SHORT VERSION

You are a god-slayer, or more precisely the slayer of false-gods. False-gods drain the land to make it lifeless and are prone to brainwashing people. You also regularly fight the rough equivalent of angels who believe the world as you know it has gone horribly wrong and are trying to force things back into their natural forms. Excessive death ensues anytime they are successful, so high stakes. Meanwhile, an authoritarian and technologically advanced nation is causing issues on the regular and has to be stopped.

PRELUDE/LEGACY

Final Fantasy XIV had a rocky start with patch section 1.0/the true beginning, which I did not play. While there are videos online of what it was like for those curious, the gist is that five years before the current opening the world was stricken by a terrible calamity. The nation of Eorzea (an allied collection of city states) was at war with the Garlean Empire--otherwise known as Garlemald. During this war, one of Garlemald’s scientists implemented a genocidal strategy against the Eorzeans by dragging the lesser of two moons down upon their heads. This moon was called Dalamud. However, what took this situation from bad to worse was that Dalamud wasn’t actually a moon but a prison.

Thousands of years prior, the technologically advanced nation of Allag had been performing experiments using dragons and entities known as primals. Primals are summoned into being using a combination of aether (life energy, the source of magic), ritual, and the belief of their summoners. One of Allag’s experiments involved murdering a powerful dragon then using the tortured prayers of his lover and his kin to summon a warped, primal imitation of him. This primal was then trapped as a power source and left to fester in rage and insanity.

The dragon’s primal is Bahamut. Dalamud was his cage.

When Dalamud burst open above Eorzea, Bahamut was released in all his apocalyptic glory. A collection of heroes, allied to an organization called the Scions of the Seventh Dawn (dedicated to eliminating primals for the toll they take on the land and its people) stood against Bahamut. A man named Louisoix Levellieur, leader of the Scions, cast a powerful spell by summoning the Twelve Eorzean gods to stop Bahamut. This spell cast the primal, Louisoix, and the heroes five years into the future. It also wiped the heroes, known thereafter as the Warriors of Light, from memory.

Part of what makes 1.0 really cool looking back--when the developers saw how many problems existed in the MMO, they knew they would need to reboot it. There was a date set for that to happen, which would involve taking Final Fantasy XIV offline until an improved version could be released. Players knew the real world reasons behind all this. What they didn’t know was how the hiatus and reboot would be presented within the narrative.

People who were up-to-date in the storyline knew that war had erupted and that the moon was falling. They also knew that a particular time, the game would be taken offline.

This is what they saw.

A REALM REBORN

The average player, and likely anyone reading this, will not have played patch 1.0. For us, Final Fantasy XIV begins five years after Bahamut’s calamity. The world is still recovering and has been irrevocably scarred in the dragon’s wake. Refugees from both that event and Garlemald’s conquered territories pour in even as the empire bides its time for another invasion.

The player is a fledgling adventurer endowed with a gift called The Echo. The Echo is an ability that first, prevents them from being brainwashed (or “Tempered”) by primals. This is important because like I said before, one of the things that gives primals their power is belief. This extends to prayer. If a person is tempered, they will worship and empower the primal responsible until they die. This means most people can’t even approach primals safely, much less fight them. More than one character (including NPCs) possess The Echo, but it remains a rare ability.

Another aspect of this gift is that it allows someone (without any deliberate control) to see into the memories of others, superimposing emotions and perspectives of the event over the witnessing Echo-user. It also translates all direct speech into an understandable form to the Echo-user. There are additional abilities that become unveiled over the course of the story, but these are most important and consistent going in.

The player initially is just one of many such adventurers, a guild of independent mercenaries willing to undertake odd jobs using their skill in combat. After coming into conflict with a mysterious, masked organization, however, it becomes clear that the player has been chosen as champion to Hydaelyn herself.

Because you see, Hydaelyn isn’t just the name of the planet. This is also a sentient mothercrystal claiming the role of protector to all life on Her surface.

The masked organization consists of spirits with varying degrees of immortality. They also have the ability to body snatch. These are called Ascians. Ascians argue that the world was split into fourteen pieces thousands of years ago by Hydaelyn, and that their dark crystal god--Zodiark--is the true will of the star and represents a natural state of being that must be reclaimed. Their way of pursuing this objective requires causing a series of apocalypses or near-apocalypses, always coming with innumerable casualties.

As Hydaelyn’s champion the player joins the Scions of the Seventh Dawn in combating primals, fights against lingering threats from Garlemald, and thwarts Ascian plans to continue rejoining the world through calamities.

A trailer for this arc can be viewed here.

HEAVENSWARD

Shit goes pear shaped in a big way and you have to flee territories held by the Eorzean Alliance--city states including Ul’dah, Limsa Lominsa, and Gridania. Ishgard, now a frozen, mountainous landscape ruled by a religion dedicated to the goddess Halone, takes your character in.

Ishgard has been at war with the draconic nation of Dravania for thousands of years. Dragons are immortal by natural means, but can be slain. Ishgard no longer remembers, by and large, why the war even started except that they have been losing loved ones in horrifying ways for as long as they can remember. They refused to send aid during the struggle against Garlemald specifically because they couldn’t spare forces from their war with Dravania. They have a reputation for being hostile to outsiders, having extreme class divides, and inquisition-style zealotry. Nonetheless, there are good people here and over the course of A Realm Reborn the player manages to befriend some of them.

This arc delves into Ishgard’s war, and involves the player taking part while clearing their name in the Alliance. Toward the end, it is also extremely important to note that the player encounters a group calling themselves “Warriors of Darkness”, who are in-league with the Ascians. It comes to light that they hail from one of the divided worlds, that their world is in terrible danger, and they believe the path to survival comes from confronting you.

A trailer for this arc can be viewed here.

STORMBLOOD

One of the antagonists we encounter forces the Alliance to involve itself in freeing Garlemald’s conquered territories, namely the nations of Ala Mhigo (largely Middle Eastern) and Doma (East Asian). In undertaking this task, the hero comes into repeated conflict with Garlemald’s crown prince, Zenos yae Galvus. Zenos is basically a serial killer with the resources of a prince but no actual investment in being a prince. It’s pretty wild.

A lot of this plot focuses on the consequences of Garlean rule. Over time though, it comes to light that the founder of Garlemald was a high-ranked Ascian and is still very much alive.

A trailer for this arc can be viewed here.

SHADOWBRINGERS

The plot set into motion with the Warriors of Darkness resumes as the player is forced to travel to their home world. Dealing with a setting on the brink of Armageddon, this current arc has a ton to do with examining different perspectives while getting much clearer insight on lore metaphysics. Most notably, we finally learn why the Ascians act the way they do and discover more about the nature of the player character and Hydaelyn.

I’m aware this is vague, but honestly this is my favorite of all the expansions/arcs so far. Seriously it is fucking killer.

A trailer for this arc can be viewed here.

YOUR PROTAGONIST/THE CHARACTER CREATOR

The main character of Final Fantasy XIV is known as the Warrior of Light, regardless of whether you play from the Legacy version of the game or A Realm Reborn. Similar to the Dragon Age games, in Final Fantasy XIV you get to design your own main character and shape their identity to varying degrees through the story. Some people like to imagine their protagonist as existing within a completely different role in the world of Hydaelyn for roleplay purposes (so not a Warrior of Light), but that involves essentially disregarding the main quest scenario narrative provided. It’s fine to do that of course, but I’m going to be explaining things that essentially fit within the canon approach.

There are currently eight playable races for the Warrior of Light. These include hyur (human stand-ins), elezen (elf stand-ins), roegadyns (orc or giant stand-ins), miqo’te (cat people), lalafells (dwarf or gnome stand-ins), au ra (tiefling or draeni stand-ins), viera (female-only bunny people at the moment), and hrothgar (male-only lion people, the beast race).

Each race option has two subraces attached. The most dramatic differences between subraces come up for hyur, where there are Midlanders (shorter and slighter frames) and Highlanders (taller and beefier/curvier). Otherwise it’s more minor differences.

It is common for players to develop their own personal interpretations of who their Warrior of Light character was before the story begins and how that impacts progression. This can be shaped by what race they belong to and what lore is attached to that race according to region. It is also possible to shape things according to which of the Twelve (Eorzea’s pantheon) the Warrior of Light worships. These deities are loosely described and made available for selection at the beginning of the game.

It isn’t unusual for people to pick names in-keeping with lore. A good site to turn to for this is over here, although there are also spots that go into what different names actually translate to. Other people just go with whatever they feel like. I think I saw someone named Cheese Whiz once.

Stat variation is pretty negligible between races, and it’s mainly an aesthetic/tonal choice. Currently there is some pressure on game developers to make Viera and Hrothgar playable for male and female gender options both, and it seems likely that at some point this will happen. Currently there are indications that the release for Viera and Hrothgar was somewhat rushed due to some behind-the-scenes circumstances, so while they are less versatile than other options this is likely to change at some point.

As someone who is a sucker for character customization, I want to mention that while it might be easier to get some of the fantasy races to fit a particular ethnicity--Final Fantasy actually does a great job in terms of visual versatility and has made it possible to hit a wide range of options well. For example, it might be easier to make an East Asian au ra or a French elezen, but you can easily break with that in totally believable ways. You might not have the precision adjustments of Dragon Age: Inquisition or Bloodborne, but the options presented are pretty flexible.

In terms of how the Warrior of Light works through the game, again while there is some wiggle room there are certain aspects to their identity that stay pretty consistent. They get jaded and worn out by the narrative as time goes on, they experience loss, they become increasingly chatty and sarcastic. They have powerful neck muscles from years of communication by nodding. Commonly, the personality of the Warrior of Light is also influenced by the job they choose.

THE JOBS

Something I wish got explained to me early--you only get certain jobs as options starting out, and any others you hear about getting added are only accessible at higher levels. In Final Fantasy XIV, basically when it comes to combat you start with a very basic class, which graduates to a job (better versions of the class) when you fulfill certain requirements.

There are notably three main roles a combat class or job can fall into. These include tanks, healers, and DPS. Tanks are responsible for leading the charge, provoking aggression, directing mobs, and enduring attacks in groups. They don’t deal the most damage but have the highest defense and are generally right in the thick of the action. Healers can deal damage but their main purpose is to keep themselves and everyone around them from dying, especially in groups. At the moment all of the healer jobs use magic. DPS (Damage Per Second) are the jobs that are mainly responsible for taking chunks out of the enemy’s health. Within DPS there are additionally three subcategories, these being Melee DPS (non-magical and close-range), Physical Ranged DPS (non-magical and fighting from a distance), and Magic Ranged DPS (magical and fighting from a distance). There is also a limited job and Crafter/Gatherer classes, but I’ll get to those later.

Some DPS jobs, additionally, focus more on playing support to other party members while others are geared toward boosting their own damage output.

The classes you can choose from in the character creator include:

Gladiator (Tank, Sword and Shield)

Marauder (Tank, Axe)

Lancer (Melee DPS, Lance)

Pugilist (Melee DPS, Fists)

Archer (Physical Ranged DPS, Bow)

Conjurer (Healer, Wand)

Thaumaturge (Magical Ranged DPS, Staff)

Arcanist (Magical Ranged DPS, Tome)

At level 10, if your armory system is unlocked (you need to complete a quest for your starting class NPC mentor to do this) you can approach an NPC in Limsa Lominsa to unlock the Rogue class as well. This is a Melee DPS class and uses twin daggers. If your character starts with Marauder or Arcanist this takes less time.

To graduate each of these early classes into a job, the following requirements need to be met:

Paladin (Sword and Shield): Requires Gladiator level 30, Conjurer level 15.

Warrior (Axe): Requires Marauder level 30, Gladiator level 15.

Dragoon (Lance): Requires Lancer level 30, Marauder level 15.

Monk (Fists): Requires Pugilist level 30, Lancer level 15.

Bard (Bow): Requires Archer level 30, Pugilist level 15.

White Mage (Wand): Requires Conjurer level 30, Arcanist level 15.

Scholar (Tome): Requires Arcanist level 30, Conjurer level 15.

Black Mage (Staff): Requires Thaumaturge level 30, Archer level 15.

Summoner (Tome): Requires Arcanist level 30, Thaumaturge level 15.

Ninja (Daggers): Requires Rogue level 30 and completion of quests Sylph-Management and Cloying Victory.

I’ll describe these in more detail in a bit, but there are waaaay more combat jobs than this. Currently the others are:

Dark Knight (Tank, Greatsword): Requires having purchased the Heavensward expansion and having completed all of the Seventh Astral Era Quests up to Before the Dawn, which is needed to unlock the city of Ishgard. This job starts at level 30.

Gunbreaker (Tank, Gunblade): Requires having purchased the Shadowbringers expansion and having a Disciple of War or Magic job at level 60. This job starts at level 60.

Astrologian (Healer, Star Globe): Requires having purchased the Heavensward expansion and having completed all of the Seventh Astral Era Quests up to Before the Dawn, which is needed to unlock the city of Ishgard. This job starts at level 30.

Samurai (Melee DPS, Katana): Requires having purchased the Stormblood expansion and having a Disciple of War or Magic job at level 50. This job starts at level 50.

Machinist (Physical Ranged DPS, Firearm) Requires having purchased the Heavensward expansion and having completed all of the Seventh Astral Era Quests up to Before the Dawn, which is needed to unlock the city of Ishgard. This job starts at level 30.

Dancer (Physical Ranged DPS, Chakrams): Requires having purchased the Shadowbringers expansion and having a Disciple of War or Magic job at level 60. This job starts at level 60.

Red Mage (Magical Ranged DPS, Rapier): Requires having purchased the Stormblood expansion and having a Disciple of War or Magic job at level 50. This job starts at level 50.

So total, right now the jobs include 4 Tanks (Paladin, Warrior, Dark Knight, Gunbreaker), 3 Healers (White Mage, Scholar, Astrologian), 4 Melee DPS (Dragoon, Monk, Ninja, Samurai), 3 Physical Ranged DPS (Bard, Machinist, Dancer), and 3 Magical Ranged DPS (Black Mage, Summoner, Red Mage). Total is 17 jobs. When I describe these combat based jobs, I’m not going to focus on the actual gameplay aspect because frankly I don’t know how to play all of the jobs. This is gonna be a quick and dirty explanation based on the scientific approach of “idk that’s just my impression”.

Paladin: You are a holy knight and you can heal a little sometimes maybe (???) and you are very good and noble with great defense.

Warrior: You are a beserker who loves to release your inner beast and kill shit in really violent ways and are kind of a badass and do the most damage of the tanks.

Dark Knight: Super super edgy and kind of magical but also straight up crazy, you hate corrupt authority figures and are willing to get your hands dirty and darken your name in order to protect others. One of the most beloved job questlines.

Gunbreaker: You have a sword that is also a gun and you can shoot people with it, soldier style. Basically if you have ever fantasized about having a knifegun this is like that but better.

White Mage: Very pure, focused on nature and communing with elemental beings, all about that land/sea/sky thing with ties to the elements earth, water, and air. One of three magic traditions that got involved in a next level magic fight, this one stemming from the city of Amdapor. Amdapor is full of fungus and poison spores now.

Scholar: Takes a highly intellectual spin on magic with ties to weird geometries and so forth, figured out how to summon fairy familiars from aether. Does a lot with shields and preventing people from taking as much damage in the first place. One of three magic traditions that got involved in a next level magic fight, this one stemming from the city of Nym. Nym is a floating city and is basically hovering in ruins now, with any surviving residents having been transformed into tonberries. Tonberries are little green creatures that like to stab people.

Astrologian: A fortuneteller take on magic that combines tarot cards, astrology, and crystal balls. The idea here is that Astrologians are messing with fate and time in order to heal you, sort of undoing damage. Snazzy dressers, intimidating moveset.

Dragoon: Jumpy people with spears who struggle to live down their legacy of animation lag-related deaths, my understanding is that today’s Dragoons do solid damage and are decent at survival. Their reputation, however, is that if someone is going to die in a fight it’s probably them. They are very broody and like to hang out in high places with capes billowing in the wind. They also wear spiky armor and fight dragons and have the soul of a dragon. People make jokes at their expense a lot but with affection.

Monk: You punch people to death and get gauntlets of varying levels of sharp. You also get to master chakras and go through forms associated with different animals. In a series like Final Fantasy where people carry swords bigger than they are, you’re the job that said lol who needs that and made your body the weapon.

Ninja: Very very sneaky, used to be sort of a state-sanctioned criminal. If anybody is a spy it’s you. You are very fast and can basically turn invisible and sometimes smoke bombs go off. Mudras are used and I don’t understand.

Samurai: Deal a solid amount of damage and are very flashy and cool, probably one of the highest damage outputs for Melee DPS. Very neat and fancy katanas.

Bard: Draws a connection between the strings of a harp and the strings of a bow, is able to both shoot the crap out of enemies, make enemies more vulnerable with some songs, and make allies more powerful with other songs. I think Bards are very pretty and fancy.

Machinist: These are tech nerds who realized that guns are an option. So are flamethrowers. So are robots. This job has a reputation for being ungodly complicated to play but this has apparently been rectified recently.

Dancer: Similar to Bard in that they do a lot to boost allies in a fight, do lower damage as a result but damn do they boost their allies. Also have ridiculously swanky outfits and are super flashy in fights.

Black Mage: The edgy magic users, they are disciples of Eorzea’s death god and all of their magic ties into destruction. If you wanna make the biggest explosions Black Mage is where you go. Magic ties to fire, ice, and electricity but primarily puts focus on the shift between fire and ice. Black Mages also have a reputation for being involved in demon summoning because they were kind of the assholes in that magic war against White Mages and Scholars. Black Magic as a discipline has ancestry in Mhach, which is of course now crawling with demons. Black Mage is the DPS king in the sense that if you want the biggest numbers of damage dealt, this is where you go. They are however tragically slow and squishy so expect the Black Mage to be somewhere between standing right where an attack will land or dodging frantically between spells.

Summoner: Has the ability to summon small familiars in the form of defeated primals, these being namely Ifrit (fire-based), Titan (earth-based), Garuda (air-based), Bahamut, and Phoenix. Apparently their questline is covered in Ascians too. One of two DPS capable of raising fallen allies.

Red Mage: Very fancy, fast-moving swordsmen covered in ruffles. The founders of Red Magic were Black and White Mages who came together in the wake of that magic war mentioned above. They essentially work to balance Black Magic and White Magic alongside physical attacks. They don’t get the numbers of some DPS but are again extremely fast and are also capable of raising allies. Versatile.

The limited job is called Blue Mage, currently being lamented because it’s unable to fight in dungeons or main quest situations to the extent of other jobs. Blue Mage gets abilities by fighting monsters and learning magical abilities from them. They use a cane and are massive dandies who will hopefully get the opportunity to do more in the future.

If you want to actually make in-game money without blood sacrifice, you want to get involved in a Crafter or Gatherer job. These don’t deal with combat but instead let you acquire, develop, and sell in-demand resources to other players.

Gatherer jobs include Fishers, Botanists, and Miners. Crafter jobs include Carpenters, Blacksmiths, Armorers, Goldsmiths, Leatherworkers, Weavers, Alchemists, and Culinarians. I am not good at these and so can’t explain them properly, but some people do play the game exclusively so they can level these jobs. I think that besides getting mad cash, this is probably because Crafters and Gatherers also get to make really fancy houses and get very pretty clothes with their vast amounts of wealth, skill, and resources.

THE SETTING

There are three city states that, at the start of A Realm Reborn, comprise the Eorzean Alliance. Your character becomes a hero to the Eorzean Alliance before any other nation. The three nations are Ul’dah, Gridania, and Limsa Lominsa. Ul’dah is a desert city (someone mentioned it being Byzantine), ruled by a Sultana, and watched over by the dual-aspected god of death and commerce. Gridania is a forest city (to me it looks Western European but unsure?), ruled by a spiritual Elder Seedseer, and is watched over by the nature goddess Nophica--her will embodied in the form of spirits called Elementals. Limsa Lominsa is an ocean city (Greek influenced, although some territories read Caribbean), ruled over by an Admiral, and is watched over by a sea-goddess.

Ul’dah is a major trade center and known for having a solid amount of crime and corruption, harsh wealth divides, huge reverence for the dead, and general canniness. Gridania is super spiritual and has massive reverence for the forest and maintaining both it and the boundaries necessary to co-exist peacefully with Elementals. Limsa Lominsa is literally pirate town and have the most kickass military/naval fleet ever.

Depending on what job you choose in the character creator will effect which of these three cities you start out in. It’s ambiguous where the Warrior of Light comes from so conceivably you could be a native to that city state or a foreigner from somewhere else. It mainly matters in terms of if you’re making a story up for your character or not.

Another city state is Ishgard (technically Eorzean but isolationist), which has parallels to Norse mythology, France, and the Catholic church. It is covered in snow and full of mountains. Ala Mhigo is also a city state, and while like Ul’dah it is also a desert environment this one seems to place higher emphasis on different regions within the Middle East and India. One part looks strongly reminiscent of the Dead Sea, for example. Idyllshire was formerly a territory of the nation Sharlayan, which dedicates itself to the scholar-god. However, Sharlayan up and bailed when Garlemald showed up so that whole city got evacuated.

Those city states are all based on the continent Aldenard. Garlemald comes from a continent called Ilsabard that we haven’t gotten to see yet. It’s supposed to be cold and shitty there. Also worth mentioning, Garleans are on the one hand atheists and on the other hand borderline worship their emperor.

Othard is the Far Eastern continent and represents Asia. The two main city states we’ve seen there are Kugane (Japan) and Doma (China). There are other nations in the surrounding areas that we know about as well but haven’t explored. Both Kugane and Doma worship entities known as kami, omnipresent spirits who appreciate treasure and sometimes play a role in manipulating the fates of mortals. There are also animal spirits who through wisdom and longevity gain power and the ability to change form. These are called auspices. Special shout out to the Azim Steppe of Othard as well for representing Mongolian tribes and a plains environment.

There at least two other continents around but we don’t know a lot about them yet. One is The New World and draws from pre-Columbian North America. The other once housed a nation called Meracydia that opposed the ancient Allagan empire.

Shadowbringers takes place on a world called The First, which is one of the fragmented realities split by Hydaelyn. This world is called Norvrandt. It parallels Hydaelyn in some ways but not others. The desert environment of Ahm Areng geographically resembles the red deserts of the Southwestern US, but the architecture doesn’t match. The Rak’tika Greatwood is an A+ perfect jungle setting and heavily modeled after Mayan civilization. Eulmore kind of reminds me of the idea of pre-French Revolution excesses surrounded by poverty but with almost neon circus aesthetics married in. Il Mheg is rainbow fields and glassy lakes and fae creatures fucking with you 24/7. Very pretty and art nouveau.

The Tempest is full of secrets.

THE COMMUNITY

People focus on different things in this game. It’s huge enough to make that extremely doable.

One group involves the combat-focused players. These are people who just want to take on content labeled Extreme or Savage and beat it as smoothly as possible. Very talented bunch but tend to be short tempered sometimes, also often can’t wrap their heads around people playing any other way.

Glamour hounds are people who are in this for the A E S T H E T I C S. They want their characters to look a very specific way with certain gear in certain colors and god damn it if they have to run savage to achieve their goals they are going to do it. Often also are very into exciting mounts and housing, will frequently do artsy screencaps and share them online.

Lore hounds are people who focus mainly on the main quest scenario, overall storytelling, NPCs, setting, metaphysics, etc. Some of these people just want to analyze and make predictions. Some are independent fan creators. Some are roleplayers.

Worth noting--the most active roleplay communities are on the Crystal server, on the worlds Balmung and Mateus. My understanding is that these worlds are pretty packed and come with their own collection of pluses and minuses. More drama and a high likelihood of being ambushed for erotic RP, but fun community storytelling too. You can absolutely join servers outside your geographic location, by the way.

I’m on Primal server. It’s pretty chill.

Crafters, gatherers, and gamblers as far as I can tell are out to get top tier gil and fabulous prizes. I think some just honestly like the process too tbh and it happens to pay swimmingly. By the by, yes there is an in-game casino.

Last major group off the top of my head is the people who are mainly, specifically there to hang with friends and otherwise socialize with the game as a medium for that.

OKAY BUT I FOLLOW YOU SPECIFICALLY, WHO THE HELL ARE THOSE CHARACTERS YOU KEEP REBLOGGING?

EMET-SELCH

He is an Ascian who showed up fashionably late, would rather be napping than villaining around. Massive troll and also responsible for single-handedly making the fandom care about Ascians after four arcs of apathy. Secret sad boi. I am omitting a bunch because he’s basically a walking spoiler, but someone once described him as having absolutely relentless theater kid energy and I have yet to see it put better than that.

ELIDIBUS

Another Ascian known as the Emissary. Talks more about balance than ZODIARK!!!??!!!?11111!! and sometimes tries to have conversations instead of fistfights. Is not as good at having conversations instead of fistfights as Emet-Selch but is significantly better at it than Lahabrea, who will be described next. Elidibus is notable for spontaneously adopting a child and then passing that child off to the heroes as discreetly as he could.

LAHABREA

The third major Ascian and the first recurring one players meet in A Realm Reborn. Lahabrea seems like he is probably a few screws loose, fucking loves to blow shit up, embarrasses all of the interns who get stuck with him, and spent years in charge of PR before his colleagues realized that was a mistake. Makes very poor life choices. Apparently he used to be a fantastic orator and was praised for his imagination but these talents have since been replaced by ZODIARK!!!??!!!?11111!! and explosions. Has been described as an idiot by Emet-Selch and “unique” by Elidibus, who needed to take a very long pause before saying so.

G’RAHA TIA/THE CRYSTAL EXARCH

Honestly this is only pseudo spoilers, basically everyone figured out who he was well before Shadowbringers got released. Catman is currently doing battle with another character called Haurchefant for the position of #1 fan to the Warrior of Light. Has some wild misadventures with you that involve exploring ancient ruins, excessively long fetch quests, clones, and getting sucked into a demon world. Later runs across time and space to save your life but kind of almost gets you killed in the attempt. Says he is very sorry for this later. Just doing his best.

NERO TOL SCAEVA

A scientist who fights with a massive hammer, formerly worked for Garlemald but finds himself unemployed later. Is better than the engineer Cid, who gives you all your tech. He is also a troll, an egomaniac, and fucking hilarious. It takes a while for the extent of this to be revealed because A Realm Reborn still had some issues.

AYMERIC DE BOREL

Basically in charge of Ishgard, for a while literally but now only mostly. A very reasonable authority figure, runs the the Warrior of Light across several countries when you get injured in battle then chills at your bedside. Thinks you should relax sometimes. Encourages this by taking you to dinner once.

ESTINIEN WYRMBLOOD

Broody Dragoon McAngst of Ishgard, fucking hated dragons for the longest time because they murdered his whole family. Goes on an extended journey with you and in the process reveals he also hates moogles with a burning passion. Chills out a lot later, has demonstrated he is in fact a real bro.

YSAYLE DANGOULAIN/ICEHEART/LADY SHIVA

Delusions of grandeur and good intentions, also chosen by Hydaelyn and possessing The Echo. Figured out she could use her possession of The Echo to literally become a primal without losing her mind or body. Wants peace at any cost and will kill shitloads of people in the name of peace. Morally questionable but an interesting lady. Disagrees strongly with Estinien about moogles.

HAURCHEFANT GREYSTONE

Name sounds like a sneeze, is currently fighting G’raha Tia for the title of #1 fan to the Warrior of Light. Apparently there was an event where he said he wants the Warrior of Light to be his pony, as in he wants to ride you. Has shirtless men doing squats in his office. Saves your ass when shit gets real for Heavensward and then saves your ass again when the Pope’s bodyguard tries to murder you. It does not go well.

ZENOS YAE GALVUS

Absolute serial killer who feels like you complete him and give his life meaning and are his BFF. Probably wants you to fuck him. Also the crown prince of Garlemald and has spent years trying to engineer situations that will produce someone who can actually fight him as an equal. Doesn’t give a fuck about most things but jesus does he go yandere.

FRAY

If you become a Dark Knight, Fray becomes your NPC mentor and basically takes the Warrior of Light on a journey in becoming batshit insane. 10/10 Best teacher hands down.

SOPHIA THE GODDESS

A primal who I love to pieces, basically shows that the only way you can have perfect balance forever is if you are literally dead. We know this because the song that plays during her fight is about her murdering an entire family because they were unstable.

SRI LAKSHMI

Another primal who I love to pieces, just full throttle lotus eater in action where she encourages you to go fuck everything and be happy. Super pretty.

SEPHIROT THE FIEND

One of my top fav primals, pure id and distorted Kabbalah. I have a lot of feelings about him and have analyzed his fight to pieces.

CENRIC ASHER

Lol he just my Warrior of Light. I have a story for him but it is not official or anything.

THE FIVE BILLION OTHERS

Probably other people’s characters! I just really love seeing what people come up with, whether it’s their version of the Warrior of Light or going full-throttle into OC territory. It’s really refreshing to me, seeing how passionate and inventive people get. ^^ There are plenty of other important NPC characters, some I would even consider favorites of mine, but I just don’t post them as much.

IF YOU MADE IT THIS FAR JESUS CHRIST GET YOURSELF A COOKIE OR SOMETHING. GOD DAMN.

#final fantasy xiv #final fantasy xiv screenshots #final fantasy 14 #ffxiv #shadowbringers

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