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dauntless-gothamite · 3 years

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Prove Them Wrong [2/?]

Fandom: Divergent Pairing: Eric Coulter x Fem! Reader Summary: Y/N is a Dauntless transfer from Erudite, and she has a drive, an ambition that sets her apart--it always has, even back in Erudite. She brings her perseverance (and need to prove others wrong) to Dauntless when she transfers, and she uses her mind to make her way through the initiation process. Along the way, she makes friends and enemies, and she finds herself comfortable around the man most people in Dauntless avoid at all costs: Eric Coulter. A/N: it seems this may be a little bit of a slow burn, based on the pacing and where I am in chapter three right now... Enjoy!

You woke up to the sound of metal clanging together, an unpleasant alarm if you’d ever heard one. “Get up, get dressed, and be in the training room in two minutes,” Four said, banging the metal together one last time before leaving the room.

Everyone scrambled to get dressed in their new black Dauntless clothes, and as people entered the training area, they began to form a semicircle around Four and Eric. “Ok, let’s get started,” Four said, clapping his hands together. “There are two stages of training. The first is physical, you will push your bodies to the breaking point and you will master the methods of combat. The second is mental, again breaking point. You’ll face your worst fears and conquer them--unless they get you first. You’ll be trained separately from the Dauntless-born, but you’ll be ranked together. After initiations, rankings will determine what jobs you move into: leadership, guarding the fence, or keeping the factionless from killing each other.”

“The rankings will also determine who gets cut,” Eric cut in, rising from where he sat on a concrete slab. An uneasy whisper spread throughout the initiates. No one knew about this, and you had to admit, you were getting a bit nervous yourself. “At the end of each stage of training, the lowest-ranking initiates will be leaving us,” Eric continued.

“To do what?” asked Al.

“Well, you can’t go home to your families, so you’ll be factionless.”

Another wave of murmurs rippled through the crowd of initiates, but it was quickly silenced by Eric’s glare. “Someone should have told us,” Christina said.

“Why? Would you have chosen differently? Out of fear?” Eric replied challengingly. “I mean, if that’s the case, you might as well get out now. If you’re really one of us, it won’t matter to you that you might fail, alright? You chose us. Now, we get to choose you.” Eric looked at each initiate, his blue eyes challenging each person to look away. Some people did, others didn’t. You didn’t.

Instead, you held his intense gaze as the itch to prove others wrong that had been inside you since the day you were born rose up, ready to be set free. What Eric said was scary, but it didn’t matter--all your years of studying the faction system told you that they would try to scare the initiates, and while you hadn’t expected this, you had known it wouldn’t be easy. But you had worked your ass off for years to be top of the class in Erudite, and you’d be damned if you weren’t going to do the same here, in your new faction.

“Everyone, get some water before we move into the next segment of training,” Four called out. It took everything in you not to bend over as some others were doing; you knew standing up straight, getting fresh air in your lungs, would make the cramp in your abdomen go away faster, even if it hurt more now.

“Tris, stand up straight,” you whispered to your friend, who was red-faced after running twenty laps around the room, which was everyone’s warm-up for the day.

“Just so you know, tomorrow we won’t just be running laps,” Four said, surveying all the tired initiates. “So get used to this.”

You sighed, mentally thanking yourself for joining a small workout group in Erudite. It was fairly new, and it was only created because studies showed that after some physical activity, the brain was better equipped to come back to problems it struggled with earlier and continue working whereas remaining stagnant was more likely to result in burnout and fatigue. The workouts were nothing like this, but you were still appreciative of them.

“Alright, everyone find a punching bag and start hitting. Eric and I will be walking around correcting your form, but it’s on you to put our advice into practice. Go,” Four announced after barely even a minute of the “break” had gone by.

Turning on your heel, you walked over to the nearest punching bag and lined yourself up. Feet spread evenly about as wide as your shoulders, then step the left foot forward just a bit. Knees bent slightly, fists raised high. Then, you get to punching.

After what felt like an hour of hearing Four quietly critiquing other students between Eric’s shouts of disappointment at other initiates, the two trainers finally got to your area of the training room. Out of the corner of your eye you caught Four walking up to Tris, slightly adjusting her position and giving helpful tips. Another set of footsteps came to a stop behind you, which meant Eric would be the one helping you. Your shoulders tensed for a moment, but you quickly forced yourself into a more relaxed position and continued punching. Just pretend he isn’t there, you told yourself. After hitting the punching bag six times, called out “Stop” from behind you. He walked over to your side and took a fighting stance. “Make sure your hips are square, like this, so when you throw a punch with the hand that is further back, you can twist your hips and use core strength to put more power into it,” he said stoically, and you did your best to mimic his stance. “No, like this,” he said, grabbing your hips and twisting them, holding you firmly in place for a second before letting go. “Try it now,” he said. You started throwing punches again, and he nodded before silently walking away. When you paused to readjust your stance, you heard Eric yell “Did I say you could stop, Y/N? No, I did not; keep going!” You took a deep breath and began the next onslaught of punches as the room fell quiet save for the sound of fists hitting punching bags, a rhythmic thumping sound.

“First jumper!” Eric called out, disrupting the steady beat and sense of calmness in the room. “In the ring.” Beside him, Four sighed and looked down at his feet, and you had a bad feeling about whatever was about to happen. “Last jumper,” he continued, looking at a girl with dark hair--you think you may have heard her friends call her Molly, but you aren’t entirely sure. “Time to fight.”

Tris and the girl stepped up to the ring. “How long do we fight for?” the girl asked.

“Until one of you can’t continue,” Eric said in response.

“Or one of you concedes,” Four interjected, stepping forward.

“According to the old rules,” Eric corrected. “With the new rules, no one concedes.”

“You really want to lose someone in their first fight?”

“Well, a brave man never surrenders.”

“Lucky for you, those weren’t the rules when we fought.”

Eric clenched his jaw, irritated, before saying “You’ll be scored on this, so fight hard.” Tris and the other girl squared up and began to circle each other, but Eric was getting impatient. “Go!” he barked.

After nearly falling off the mat, Tris lunged, but the other girl dodged, twisted, and retaliated with a swing of her own, landing a punch to Tris’ face. As Tris retreated, the other girl pressed her advantage, catching Tris’ waist, bending her over, and punching her stomach a few times before Tris managed to break free of her hold. Just as she reached the end of the mat and turned, Tris was met with another punch to the face, sending her to the floor. The other girl--Molly--glanced at Eric since Tris was down, and he nodded, signaling Molly to send one last blow Tris’ way, knocking her out. As you watched the fight, you felt bad for your friend; she was much smaller than Molly, and part of you wanted to speak up about the cruelty that the trainers were showing, but you shoved it down. There was no need to compromise your position right now.

“Next,” Eric yelled, pointing to a girl named Selene and a former Candor named Peter who had made fun of Tris, calling her a Stiff several times. You secretly hoped Selene would kick his ass, but it was unlikely, he was tall and strong, plus he was willing to fight dirty--he’d admitted as much in the dorm area. Guess he still couldn’t keep his mouth shut, even though he’d left Candor.

Selene was tough; what she lacked in strength she made up for in endurance, but after a few rounds of dodging Peter’s punches, he finally landed one to her solar plexus, stunning her, allowing him to sweep her legs out from underneath her and kick her as she lay on the ground. You clenched your jaw as he did so, feeling anger rise up inside of you. Selene was unable to fight, that was the stopping point of the fights, but Peter was still kicking her. And Eric, the emotionless person that he was, didn’t do anything.

“Peter,” you said, “stop it.” Peter turned towards you and smirked.

“What are you going to do if I don’t?” he taunted. You considered for a second before turning to Eric.

Looking up at him, you steeled yourself. “I know we don’t get to determine the fighting order, or who we fight, but I would like to fight Peter. Now,” you said, sure to keep your voice level and maintain eye contact with the leader.

He raised an eyebrow at you curiously, and thankfully, Peter had stopped kicking Selene when you started speaking to Eric. Selene scooted to the edge of the mat, but that was as far as she could move without assistance. “You two,” Eric yelled at two initiates, “help Four get this one,” he pointed at Selene, “to the infirmary.” Then he turned back to you. “What are you waiting for, initiate? Get up there.” For a moment you were stunned, you didn’t actually think you would end up fighting Peter, and you knew that both Eric and Peter were expecting you to lose quickly. You caught Four’s eye as he carried Selene out with the help of two initiates, and you looked around to see Christina, Tris, Will, Al, Edward, Molly, and a few other initiates staring at you like you were mad. Maybe you were, but it was too late to back out now. You stood in a low, sturdy fighting stance, just like Eric had shown you. Peter did the same. For a moment, the room was dead silent as your eyes locked with his, and then both of you whipped into action.

Peter went right for the face punch, but you quickly blocked upward and threw a low roundhouse kick at his knee, making him wobble. He recovered quickly, and he quickly used his height to his advantage, moving to grab your shoulder and slam you into the ground. You were smart though, and you let him move you slightly before turning the downwards motion into momentum that allowed you to do a somersault, twisting his arm and landing on your feet. As he was turning around to face you, you sent a snap kick right to the back of his knee, making it buckle. You moved quickly to his other side, ready to send a few punches to his face and knock him out, but he sprung forward, wrapping strong hands around your neck and squeezing. For a moment you panicked, hitting his arms, but they didn’t move. Everyone was sure that was it for you, but you had another trick up your sleeve--Peter was overly confident this would weaken you and in the process of squeezing, he had left his own body defenseless. So you kicked him in the groin. Hard. He called out and released you, and as he leaned over in an instinctual reaction to pain, you kicked his forehead with your knee, shoved him to the side, knocking him over, and kicked him again, this time in the solar plexus. You stood there, stone-faced, and when Peter didn’t make a move to fight back, you turned to Eric, who nodded, and you jumped down from the mat.

You landed next to Will, Tris, and Christina, all of whom were staring at you in a mixture of horror and admiration. You blushed in embarrassment and looked at the ground, thinking to yourself, What the hell did I just do? You were so lost in thought that you didn’t realize the next two initiates were on the mat and fighting, and you only came back to yourself when Eric yyelled, “Hey! Are you deaf, initiate? I said go grab some ice for your neck, I don’t want to hear complaints about it tomorrow!”

You nodded to your friends and said “I’ll be back in a minute,” shocked at how hoarse your voice was. “Just going to… yeah,” you trailed off before walking quickly towards the infirmary.

A/N: can you tell I love writing fight scenes? also I do martial arts and have played sports my whole life, so I love when I get to use my knowledge of anatomy and physiology two write action scenes :)

Tag List: @shykoolaid

#eric coulter #eric coulter imagine #eric coulter x reader #divergent #divergent im #dauntless #erudite #divergent fanfiction #abnegation #amity #candor #tris prior #four divergent #tobias eaton #peter hayes #caleb prior #motherfxking-flannel #motherfxking flannel

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luvrsunwooh · 3 years

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Anything For You, my Darling.

This is the first post for my Prompt Generator series! This series is to help me get me back into the joy of writing. Hopefully, my writing gets better again.

Prompt:

About: You’re stressing about studying for your O.W.Ls and your constant nagging from your parents. Fred notices this stress, and takes you for a de-stress date to Hogsmeade.

Warnings: none.

A/N: I tried making this gender and house neutral! I also avoided using “Y/N”.

“You know, I’m very surprised you agreed to come out today.”

You turned your head to the source of the voice that interrupted the silence you were starting to enjoy. The same silence that had you enjoying the presence of the tall boy with the voice, and being lost in your thoughts. It was Fred who was the owner of that voice. Tilting your head in confusion as to why he was feeling that way, you responded.

“And what’s makes you surprised that I came out?” Fred and I continued walking, his glove-clad hands that intertwined with your bare ones. You realized you forgot your gloves half way to Hogsmeade. Fred swore you had them in your jacket pocket before you left the castle. Your empty hand is becoming numb and red due to the icy air and wet snow. You had wished you double-checked your pockets for those well wanted gloves.

“Love, you were neck deep in parchment and textbooks! What made you pull a Hermione and take so much classes? I was thinking you would rather study, since that has been a new hobby of yours. But I also don’t want you to turn into some mad woman because you’re holed up in the common room all day!” Fred giggles as he unclasps your fingers and wraps it around your shoulders, pulling you closer. His gloved hand takes your other hand and holds it. The warmth of his body travels to yours, making you feel a tad bit warmer.

“Hey, at least I wasn’t taking so much classes that a whole time traveling unit had to be used. Plus, Snape gave us two days to finish a very long essay. I can care less about Moonstone and it’s uses, and I can care less about potions in general.” A groan left your chapped lips as you were reminded of the half finished “Moonstone and it’s uses in Potion Making” essay that lies half finished on your bed.

But it was true, Fred had noticed you were working extra hard lately. Staying up late in your common room (Fred caught you in the library once covered in ink whilst writing another essay for Muggle studies.) Being in your fifth year was probably your hardest year. With your O.W.Ls exams coming up and wanting a head start in practicing on top of your current studies. It was also true that you were taking more classes than what the normal student would be taking. You silently blamed your third year self for choosing this much classes.

You seem to be studying so much, that Fred was starting to see you less and less. At the second week of this year, he asked you if you wanted to watch one of his Quidditch practices. You rejected his request due to wanting to study for your O.W.Ls. And before you know it, you’re spending your days, Fred-less and in the library with ink stains blotting fingers and textbooks. Once Fred realized you were doing more studying with little to no breaks, he decided enough was enough and wanted to take you out on a small date to Hogsmeade. Even though Fred has had enough of the trips to the small village (the excitement of the idea wearing thin), he figured just taking you out away from the castle, away from the source of your stress was the best idea to de-stress his beloved.

“Darling, I just want you to take a break before your brain combusts into pieces for trying to contain so much information in that brain of yours.” Fred joked as a giggle escaped from your lips. A snowflake touched your tongue as you giggled.

“Thank you for thinking of me, Freddie. You already know this but I’m just worried about my parents. They keep feeding me these ideas that I’m going to fail my whole life if I fail one class. It wasn’t that bad previously, but this year especially has been worse than any other year. They just want me to get the most O.W.Ls I can. If I don’t bring home the desired O.W.Ls, they’ll kick me out.” A sigh was heaved, as you stared at the white fluffy ground creating a shape of your black combat boots’ sole.

“I’m under so much pressure to make them proud, that I feel like my only option is to study night and day. I’ve just come to realize that I’m spending less time with you and I’m so so sorry for not making any time to spend time with you. This isn’t right of me to just leave you hanging. When you do ask me on dates and spend time, I want to, I really do. But my parents keep pushing into my thoughts, making feel like I have no choice but to stu-“

Suddenly, your back is pushed against something loud and rather flimsy. You don’t get to register what it is, when a pair of soft lips braided with your chapped ones. Your eyes flutter shut and your lips moved back, rhythmically with his. His fingers laced into your hair, while your bare hands wrapped around his shoulders. After a small moment, he pulled away and stared, taking in your beauty. A soft smile crept up to his face.

“Darling, hey. Today is our day to de-stress. Why don’t we try to forget everything back at home and the castle? It’s just us two and Hosgmeade, eh? Plus, it’s snowing! You told me once that you love taking small walks while it was snowing. Let’s take a small walk.” You took his hand that was stuck out after his small speech. You gladly accepted it, and continued your small walk in preferable silence, hands once again intertwined through the busy village. This time, you got an opportunity to suck in all the scenery.

To your left was the Three Broomsticks. The warm air hit your face for a moment, as a Ravenclaw student opened the door to leave. Once you walked past, you head the Ravenclaw yell out a name, probably for a friend. The street lights were coated in white, and yellow light was beaming from the inside of the street light. A big, red bow complete with a shrub of mistletoe in the middle hung on every post to signify that the Christmas season was currently taking stage.

You passed by a couple more shops and small local restaurants, enjoying the snow laying swiftly on your eyelashes. You look up to take a small glance at your beloved. The tall ginger took notice that his loved one was staring at him, that he turned his head to you and smiled. You swore your heart skipped a beat just at his smile. Fred’s messy hair that poked out from his knitted hat becoming soaked from the previous bits of snow melting on it. You stop for a moment and Fred furrowed his brows in confusion, due to your pause in motion. The snow continued its motion downwards. You looked up at him taking his hands.

“Fred, you know I love you. Thank you for taking me to Hogsmeade. I really needed the break. I really don’t know what I would do without you.” You mumbled, as you hear a giggle coming from the older Gryffindor.

“Anything for my darling.” Fred smiled wide, as he also dug something from out of his pockets.

“Oh, and by the way, here’s your gloves. I took them from your pocket when you weren’t looking.” Fred smirked and held out your gray knitted gloves that were clumped in a ball.

“FRED WEASLEY!”

You knew you could never ignore this prankster.

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bunnyywritings · 3 years

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bubbly s/o opens up about trauma pt. 1

bakugou katsuki & shouto todoroki x gn!reader

word count: 1.8k

requested by anon: Katsu, Sho, Izu, and Eiji headcanons to their bubbly, and sweet crush, and close friend, opening up to them about being abused by their parents growing up? They've gotten therapy and are living with their Grandparents but sometimes they get upset when someone brings up parents or asks about the scars from abuse. They tell them they shared this with them because they refused to lie to them. They hug him close, thanking him for being a good friend. -Morp

[a/n: i hope you don’t mind that I’m doing it in parts anon! i ended up doing scenarios for each one, i'm a bit rusty so i apologize if this isn't very well done. you can read part 2 [ here ] ,thank you for requesting sweet heart! here you go! - yours truly, bunny -`ღ´- ]

TW: mentions of parental abuse & scars, nothing explicit but implied

To an extent, he always knew. Maybe not the specifics, but whenever you were alone and thought no one was paying any attention, you’d let your guard down. The metaphorical sparkle in your eyes would dim, your shoulders would slump as if you were taking a break. Then someone would approach and in the blink of an eye, the sparkle was back and the familiar grin on your lips was present once again. Despite what others may think, Bakugou was a good friend.

He worried about you. A lot.

That may be due to the fact that he has a huge crush on you, but it was unlikely. He values your friendship so much. He’d rather have you as a friend than anything else, really. That was mainly his insecurity talking though. He just thought he wasn’t good enough for you. No one was, really. But that’s besides the point.

He had never explicitly said anything about his feelings for you but he didn’t need to. It was quite clear through his actions. Well...clear to everyone but you, that is. Even Aizawa had caught on. And he couldn’t care less about his students’ love lives. He’s had his fill of teenage angst and drama.

During training, he’d always make sure your water bottle was full or during lunch he’d keep an eye out and make sure you were eating. Sometimes he’d even give you extra pieces of meat from his plate, or if he had veggies he knows you like, he’d wordlessly place them into your rice bowl.

Now this wasn’t one sided at all. You also had your ways of looking out for him.

If you were doing a convenience store run with Sero and you saw the particular snack that Bakugou likes, you’d instantly grab a few. For his birthday, you had gotten him custom earplugs for quirk training. It had been after you and him were paired to spar against each other, he always insisted on not holding back against you out of respect, and you had experienced one of his full blown attacks head-on. Your ears were ringing for about half an hour before you could somewhat hear again, and even then, everything was a bit muffled.

Needless to say, you were worried about his hearing

He scoffed and rolled his eyes when he unwrapped the box. Scolding you for wasting money on something he had no use for.

He always uses them though. Especially when he’s doing stamina training, and it’s explosion after explosion.

Anyways. He notices your strange behavior, one day. You stopped trying to keep up the façade and you were sort of gloomy all day. He was absolutely pissed that no one had noticed the change, and he’d yell at them later for it, but he kept his cool and waited until he could be alone with you.

It had been around 8pm, just an hour before his bedtime, when he made some tea for the both of you and carried it up to your dorm room. He paused in front of your door, looking down at both his hands, a mug in each one, then looking at the door handle. Realizing he won't be able to physically open the door by himself, he awkwardly bumped the door with his elbow.

“Hey idiot, it’s me. Open the door.” He grumbled quietly, frowning when you hadn’t responded. Before he could repeat himself a little more aggressively, the muffled sound of your sniffling made his stomach drop. Panic rising throughout his body as he made up worst case scenarios in his head.

“(Y/n), seriously. Is everything okay?” All attempts to sound calm failed as his voice betrayed him, trembling the slightest bit.

On the other side of the door, you started to panic. Furiously wiping any evidence of tears or snot from your face before you slumped over to the door, turning the lock and tugging it open to reveal a frowning Bakugou. He wasn’t upset, he was worried. It was evident in his red irises.

“Here. Drink it before it gets cold.” He handed you a mug before walking past you and into your room. He admired the decor everytime he was in there, no matter how many times he had seen it already, it never failed to make his heart warm. You had a wall full of pictures of yourself with your friends. There were a few solo photos of your friends as well. Most were candid shots, there were a fair few of him.

It always reminded him that beauty is indeed in the eye of the beholder. You cherished those candid photos because in your eyes, when your friends were carefree and themselves, no poses, no facade, that’s when they were their most beautiful.

He took a seat on your bed and patted the space beside him. Nudging the door shut, you made your way over and got comfortable.

“What’s up with you today? You seemed...not yourself.”

You didn’t respond, opting to take a sip of your tea. He knew there was something up and he wasn’t gonna push you. So he leaned back and got comfortable, waiting until you were ready. It was a solid three minutes of silence before you took a deep breath.

“I-I don’t want to lie to you, Katsuki. It just wouldn’t be fair so uhh, yeah. Here goes.” He could tell that this was overwhelming for you so, wordlessly, he put down his mug and held his hand out to you and you grasped it, like it was a lifeline.

And you told him.

You told him about the abuse from your own parents. He felt his blood boil as you showed him a few scars inflicted by your parents’ quirks. You explained that it was the anniversary of the day you ran away and went to live with your grandparents, and how you had been seeing a therapist on the regular since then.

It pained him to see you struggle through the tears, hiccuping a few times as you attempted to catch your breath. You didn’t even have to say it but he could see it, it was an all too familiar feeling to him. He tugged you to him, letting go of your hand and pulling you into his chest, his arms wrapping you up in a warmth that made the stinging tears return.

“You know, this doesn’t make me think less of you. You’re not weak. Those bastards don’t realize how bad they screwed up. You’re strong, and they’re gonna regret every goddamn choice they’ve made when they see how far you’ll go.”

“Thank you.” You whimpered as you gave in to the new wave of tears, hooking your arms around his shoulders. “Thank you…”

If anyone asks, no...he wasn’t crying. (He was though.)

If anyone was familiar with the signs of abuse, it was him.

It hurt him so much knowing that you had gone through what he did, maybe not to the same extreme but you had experienced it nonetheless.

He admired you though. Despite whatever happened to you, you were always bright. Always in a good mood and always choosing to see the good in people. He knows that he didn’t have the strength to do that. Maybe eventually, but not so soon. He had never wanted to pry. You guys were friends, practically best friends and he trusted that you’d tell him when you were ready.

To his knowledge, no one knew. No one mentioned the way you’d flinch around sudden movements or when someone raised their voice. Honestly, it was a wonder that you had even befriended Iida. He was the epitome of loud and sudden. Always waving his arms around at the randomest times and always shouting to chastise someone for breaking a rule.

He noticed that you tended to cover up your torso often. Never really wearing anything more revealing than a normal t-shirt. Even on the class trip to the beach, you insisted on staying covered up. No one questioned it, chalking it up to insecurity. Even during training when everyone had to wear their gym uniform, while others undid the top part and wrapped it around their waist, being clad in a tank top or sports bra, you had always kept it on. Even when it was extremely hot. More often than not, he found himself resting his palm against your forehead to cool you off.

It hadn’t been very hot, but Aizawa decided to run everyone ragged with combat training, so everyone was partnered up. Todoroki had been partnered with Denki and you had been paired up with Eijirou.

As he sat with his classmates, watching the two of you spar, he was quite impressed. Not that he doubted your skill but both fighting styles were drastically different. Eijirou and his quirk relied on close combat while your quirk worked best with long-range. He could see the frustration on your face when Eijirou kept charging towards you and engaging in hand to hand.

As the fight went on, Kirishima had hardened his forearm and hand, kinda like a makeshift blade and as he took you down, he had accidentally cut the top of your gym uniform. As the dust settled and the both of you got up, the tear in your clothes allowed the whole class to see your back and shoulders, skin littered with scars. All were different in size, color, severity, etc.

Everyone was stunned silent, not having expected anything like this.

“(Y/n)...what happened?” You could feel the breeze on your back and the pity in Kirishima’s eyes made you angry.

Everyone suddenly snapped into realization. Various questions of; ‘who did that to you?’, ‘where did those come from?’ and whatnot were shot at you from different directions. He could see you slowly being overwhelmed by everything. His heart dropped as he made eye contact with you, your eyes tired and filled with tears.

“That’s ENOUGH!” Everyone froze and looked at Todoroki with wide eyes, his voice booming.

Sensing the tension starting to rise, Aizawa sighed.

“Alright everyone settle down. Training is over, get back to class. (Y/n). A word.”

Reluctantly, Todoroki followed the boys into the locker room and changed into his school uniform. When everyone was out and he returned outside to the training grounds, you and Aizawa weren’t there so he had gone back to the locker rooms. He knocked and called out to you.

“Can I come in?” He heard a meek ‘yeah.’ So he carefully made his way inside.

There you were, dressed in your school uniform and sat on a bench with your face buried in your hands, shoulders shaking.

“(Y/n)...” He gently placed a hand on your shoulder, he winced when you looked up at him. IIt ached him to see your beautiful eyes tainted by tears.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner Sho…” Your bottom lip quivered.

“Please, don’t apologize.” He opened his arms. You stood up and basically collapsed into them, clutching onto the back of his blazer. “Just always remember that I may understand more than anyone else will. I’ll never judge you, you know that right?”

“I know…It’s just, ugh-” You pulled away and wiped the tears from your face. “I don’t want anyone to change how they look at me because of what my parents did to me and when everyone saw, and they were asking all of their questions, their eyes...they were just full of pity.”

“Then look into mine.”

And when you did, you didn’t see pity.

You saw admiration. You saw belonging. Love. Understanding.

“Nothing will ever change with me, (Y/n).” He pressed his forehead against yours, “I will always be here for you.”

#anon request #bnha #bnha x gn!reader #mha x gn!reader #mha #shouto todoroki x gn!reader #bakugou katsuki x gn!reader #shouto todoroki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #angst #comfort

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liliesoftherain · 4 years

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My Hero Academia Main 3 Boys x Reader

Ch. 18 Code Names

A/N: Guess who’s back... back again.. shady’s back.. tell a friend- But really! Hey guys! I bet none of y’all missed me, but I deeply missed you.

So this is a little rant so you can 100% skip this and read the story! Enjoy!

Anyways, I kinda stopped talking to everyone I met here on tumblr, and that makes me really sad. I mean, I have no one to blame but myself, but now that I’m in a better place, I hope things can go back to normal, so, @pocket-is-obsessed @pinky-the-elephant-room @sunnieskies02 , and everyone else, I’m sorry. I love y’all, and I miss y’all.

Masterlist

If anyone wants to be added to the taglist, or if I missed you, please send an ask and I’ll add you!!

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The following days were spent resting up, allowing your body to heal from the taxing day you endured; any cuts or bruises that had managed to slip pass Recovery Girl were now reduced to nothing but a memory. Monday came by, quicker than you hoped, and you were on the train headed towards the school grounds. You basked in the steady hum of the engine, watching the scenery fly by, until the area around you began to break out into murmurs.

“That’s Hakamata, isn’t it?”

“Best Jeanist’s daughter!”

“She won third place at the sports festival, it’s amazing!”

“Oh wow!”

“Hey, good job at the festival! I totally knew you were going to hit it big!”

“You were so close to winning!”

“Good luck!”

“Keep working!”

Exiting the train with a wave, you sigh in relief. While it left your heart fluttering with pride at the praises and recognition, it was still overwhelming to have so many people talking about you, to you, at once.

You arrived at the school gates, quickly rushing inside, shaking your umbrella off as you broke it down. You quickly grab what you need from your locker, placing your umbrella with the others before heading off to your classroom.

Pushing the door open, you smile at the conversations that were going on--everyone seemed to be in high spirits, and you missed the rambunctious energy of your friends.

“Hakamata!-” Denki was grinning and waving excitedly, turning to look at you as you sat down, “How was it coming to school this morning? I bet a lot of people noticed you! Isn’t it great how we’ve all been thrown into the spotlight after just a few days, huh?”

“I guess, it’s nothing much really. We should all be proud of how far we’ve gotten huh?”

“Of course! 1-A is awesome! Only 1-A kids took any of the top spots after all!”

Your attention is stolen as the door opens, catching the eyes of the boy who had been on your mind all weekend. Todoroki blinked at your stare, only for your eyes to be forced away as Kaminari demanded your attention on something. You struggle to focus, nodding along as you desperately try to make his words have meaning--since your thoughts drifted towards your last encounter.

“Aizawa-sensei, your bandages are gone!”

“Oh, I’m so happy!”

Your eyes snap to the front of the room, seeing your teacher--looking way better than he had previously. He looked as if nothing had ever happened, the only indication being the freshly made scar residing under his eye.

“Yes, they are. Thanks. However, more importantly, we’re having a special hero informatics class today…”

Silence hung in the air, each student desperately trying to figure out what could possibly be going on--a pop quiz, maybe?

“You all need code names.”

The class shouted in relief and excitement, only to have Aizawa glare at the noise. You all quieted down immediately, one menacing look from your teacher was all it took. Once settled, he explained further on the subject: how the code names worked, about the internships, and how these offers weren’t normally given to first years such as yourselves.

“Here, the offers…”

Aizawa clicked a remote, causing a holographic image to appear on the board, showing how many hero agencies put in offers for each student. The first three statistics were large, the rest of them dropping drastically from the thousands, to a few hundred and less.

You see your name as the second highest ranking, shocking you, beating the first-place festival winner by more than 50 whole offers.

“Normally the offers are more spread out, but this year all eyes were on these three.”

“Gah, there’s such a big difference!”

“Todoroki is first, Hakamata is second, and Bakugou is third…?”

“How is that, when Bakugou was the winner?”

“Seems the scores are the opposite of the sports festival rankings.”

“Guess some people may be too scared to ask a guy who had to be chained to his podium.”

“HAH!? What are the pros scared of!?” Bakugou whipped around, glaring at Sero for his comment.

Ignoring the loud outburst, you glance behind you at Todoroki, who looked as unbothered as ever at the fact he had the most offers. You give him a small smile as your eyes once again connect, just as they did right before the start of class, and he--surprisingly--returns the gesture.

“Despite these results, you’ll all be interning with pros. Offers or not.”

“So, we can all intern?”

“Yes. Seeing as you guys have had combat with real villains--thanks to the USJ incident. We believe it will be beneficial to see real pros up close, on the field, and to do that…”

“We need hero names!”

“Yes. They may be temporary, but take them seriously or--”

“THERE WILL BE HELL TO PAY LATER!”

Aizawa was cut off by the sudden shout, the door followed by slamming open, stealing everyone’s attention. He sighed as the risque pro hero Midnight sauntered inside, smirking at the attention that fell upon her.

“Midnight is going to have final approval over your names,” your teacher starts, pulling up his sleeping bag, “It’s not my forte--but just remember, the name you give yourself represents what kind of hero you want to be. It’s important.”

What kind of hero I want to be, huh?

You were handed a stack of white cardstocks, passing the remainders back as you grabbed one for yourself. It seemed like a normal, blank canvas, but you saw it as a gateway to your future as a hero. You remember all the times you tried on different hero names--mostly different variations of your fathers, even if now you cringed at the memories.

You knew your hero name was important and necessary, a name to prove to the world who you were and what you were capable of.

‘Your hero name is supposed to represent your desires-- to allow you to become your ideal self. What kind of hero do you want to prove yourself to be, or better yet, just--who are you?’

You take a deep breath, taking comfort in your father’s words as you write down your name…

“Now students, who is ready to share?”

You watch the students go up one-by-one; cringing slightly at the--extravagant--name Aoyama had chosen from himself, feeling bad for Mina as she was sent back to her desk to rethink, and giddy at the cute name Tsu had picked. The rest of the names went by alright until Todoroki had gone up to present his hero name.

“Shoto.”

“Oh,” Midnight blinked in surprise, “just your name?”

“Yeah.”

You frown slightly, Shoto hadn’t looked up, choosing to stare down at the podium with a blank expression instead. You watch as he trudged his way back to his desk, still no eye contact towards anyone as he sat down. Biting your lip, you try to shake the image from your mind. He had his reasons, and you didn’t have to know them.

“Jet Black Hero: Tsukuyomi!”

“Oh, God of the Night! I love it!”

You snap your attention back towards the front, giving a small clap to Tokoyami as he presents his name. He bows at the class before sitting down.

Mineta and Koda present their names, both very fitting and true to their image. You felt yourself grow the tad bit eager as Bakugou was the next one to present his name.

‘I wonder what it could be? He excels in just about everything, he must have a really cool hero name picked out-’

“KING EXPLOSION MURDER.”

The name wasn’t what got you, it was the serious look on his face as he said it that did. You slap a hand over your mouth, snickering as quietly as you could into your palm. You weren’t the only one holding back giggles, Eijiro, Sero, and Kaminari doing the same.

“Um, I’m going to have to say that one is too violent.”

“Hah!? Whaddya mean-”

“Why don’t you be Explosion Boy instead!” Eijiro suggests.

“Nah, he should be Grenades!” You chime in, a smirk on your face as you mimic his gauntlets.

“Or what about ‘BOOM PSH BAWHH’, you know, explosion noises!” Denki laughs.

“How would you even spell that-”

“SHUT UP ALL OF YOU, OR I’LL SHOW YOU WHY MURDER SHOULD BE IN MY NAME!” Bakugou interrupts, a scowl on his face as he yells at the three of you.

“Maybe your hero name should be ‘Anger Issues’, it’s fitting, dontcha think-”

You were cut off by a growl from Bakugou, his face morphing into pure anger as he points straight at you.

“BRING IT, GLOW WORM! I BET YOUR HERO NAME IS GOING TO BE CRAPPY.”

You say nothing in return, standing up and making your way towards the podium, giving him a teasing smile as you got close enough.

“Go sit down and maybe you’ll see.”

“Good idea, go sit down and rethink your name a bit, Bakugou.” Midnight agrees, clapping her hands to diffuse the tension.

He grumbles on the way back to his desk, and you just face the class with a sheepish grin.

“Well, here’s what I want to be--who I will be; Luminary!”

You picked a name like Luminary because you wanted to prove that you were more than just another person; you wanted to be the guiding light, leading people to justice, leading people to their hope. Maybe you weren’t there yet, you did have a long way to go before you could be considered a pro, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t going to try.

You’d be the light, shining in the darkness, for all others to see and follow.

“Oh how sweet, you’ll be a very inspiring hero, I’m sure!”

You shyly smile at the applauds, only for the demeanor to change, a smirk growing as you see Bakugou roll his eyes and look away.

Checkmate.

After a few more people presenting, Izuku shakily stands at the podium, taking a deep breath before showing his cardstock.

Blinking in surprise, you zone in on the singular word on the card, raising an eyebrow questioningly at the boy.

“Really Midoriya?”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah man, remember that can be your name forever.”

“Right,” He looks down, “I used to hate it, but then something changed… I guess, someone taught me that it could have a different meaning, and that had a huge impact on how I felt about it. So now, I like it!”

You smile wide as he makes direct eye contact, giving him a nod of encouragement.

“Deku, that has to be my code name!”

-----

“Now that that’s all done, we can go back to talking about the upcoming internships. They are a week long, and as to who you’ll be interning with; if you were on the board, you will choose from one of the offers you were given, as for everyone else, you’ll be choosing from a different list.”

The lists were handed out as soon as the bell rang overhead, signaling the end of the first half of the day, and the beginning of lunch.

“I wanna fight crime and bad guys in a big city!” Kirishima grinned, eyes taking in every name on his sheet of paper.

“I just hope I can intern at a place where there’s a lot of water!” Tsu sighed.

“Turn in your choices before the weekend.”

“We’ve only got two days!?”

“Yeah, so you better figure it out. Dismissed for lunch.”

Aizawa shut the door as he and Midnight walked out, leaving the class to class among themselves.

You read down the list, sighing in defeat as you had multiple papers of agencies stapled together. You should feel grateful, and you do, but there were too many places to choose from! Plus, you were probably just going to end up interning with your dad--

You pause as you read a specific agency, blinking before rereading it to make sure you weren’t seeing things. You weren’t, because right there in bold lettering:

“Endeavor Hero Agency”

What could Endeavor possibly want you to intern with him for?

Taking a look around the room you see most of your classmates breaking off into groups--some heading for the mess hall, and others staying in their seats. You spot Todoroki as he walks out the door.

“Ne, (y/n), what agency are you thinking of-”

“Sorry Eijiro, I’ll talk to you later,” You smile apologetically, standing up to race after the boy--not feeling the few pairs of eyes on your body as you leave.

“Todoroki, wait up!”

He turns to you, confusion in his eyes but waits for you nonetheless. You stop in front of him, clutching onto the list you had brought with you.

“Yes?” His voice was vacant of emotion, and while it was normal, it made you feel nervous.

“Uh, sorry, I just have something to tell you.”

He tilts his head, an indicator for you to continue, and you take a deep breath before presenting him the paper. His eyes search the words, bewildered as he tries to understand what you were trying to show him. Pointing at the hero agency you knew he was familiar with, you see how his eyes widen ever so slightly.

“Endeavor made me an offer…”

“I see.”

“Well, I just wanted to say I won’t-”

“You should take it.”

Your brows furrow, taken aback by his statement.

“What?”

He hands you back your list, looking straight into your eyes with a small flame of determination.

“You should take it. It’s a great opportunity to be working with the number two hero.”

“I was going to go for my dad, who still is in the top five, you know.” You respond, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh,” Todoroki’s eyes widen once more, “sorry. I didn’t mean to say your father... he is a great hero. I just… I may hate my father, but I know working with the number two hero will provide some benefits. His agency is pretty good with things like rescue and evacuation, along with battle. It’s a good opportunity, something different than what you see every day at your father’s own agency. Isn’t it good to want to get a new perspective on things? To take these ideas you learn, and make them your own, I guess?”

You’re unsure of what to say, agreeing with the boy internally as his gaze falls towards the ground.

“I know I want to be a better hero than my old man. I want to be seen as someone not in his shadow, not ‘Endeavors son’. And if that means I have to put up with him for a week, so be it. I’ll learn to be better, I swear it.”

“Um,” You rub your arm shyly, “so that means you’ll be interning with him, then?”

Todoroki nods in response.

“Well, I suppose that means I’ll see you there. If, um, if you’re okay with that.”

“Yea, I am.”

You smile, and a spark of emotion floods through his eyes as he mirrors your expression, and it somehow makes you relax. He was completely right; he had said everything you had ever thought about yourself, how you wanted to prove that you were more than just a daughter of a great hero. That you were a great hero yourself.

With that in mind, you had no regrets as you turned in your list--even if it was Endeavors Agency.

You’d be ready.

138 notes · View notes

akimmito · 4 years

Text

They thought they won #1

"Ok. So, this is a fanfic that follows the directions posted by @chocolate1721. I liked it and wanted to write it, so here it is.

I divided it into two parts because it had 7546 words and I had only written about Gotham, I was still missing Paris. So, to allow a more pleasant reading I separated it.

This is a Timinette fanfic because I think there are very few of them and I want more content from these two.

So, let's get started.

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

Taggued: @elmokingkong

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

A trip to Gotham did not go as badly as Marinette thought it would. And they were talking about Gotham, a city so dangerous that you cannot set foot on the streets without suffering an attempted assault. She can only think that Ladybug's luck allowed them to pass the two weeks of the trip without any incident that attempted against the life of any of their companions (although the class screamed to be attacked with Lila spreading scandalous lies). So everything was fine ... Until his last night in the city.

A quiet night, if they could ignore the screams that were occasionally heard (Damn it, Bustier, why so close to the Crime Alley?). The class dined as if there was not a three-front war brewing between the students, it was a time when Lila's lies were hardly heard. It was a great night for Marinette... but then again, why so close to the Crime Alley?

As soon as they left the small restaurant they met two well-known Gotham villains, causing panic in almost all the members of the French class. Only two girls saw that there really is no danger, too many injuries to pose a threat. Harley and Ivy barely can see the students, they can't even stop.

Marinette, sweet Marinette, approaches them to see their wounds. She's not going to let someone bleed to death in front of her, not if she can help it.

Chloe follows her closely; each taking one of the women to identify the wounds and see how to get them to the hospital. However, Marinette believes that if she lets them bleed freely it won't do to take them anywhere; She began tearing her clothes to make makeshift bandages with the pieces for the most bleeding wounds ... That was until the class stopped being a bunch of screaming and inconsistency.

"Oh, I didn't want to believe it, but you're working with villains!" Lila's comment sparked the class hostility, Chloe just huffs mockingly.

"Damn it, Marinette. Don't you get tired of being such a bitch? "

"Joining Chloe, what did they expect? If they both work for Hawkmoth, obviously they would for the villains here." Someone, Marinette doesn't want to identify the voice, accuses them (again) of working with the Parisian villain, when clearly the man has put a target on her back to corrupt her and turn her into an Akuma. Anyway, idiots.

"You suck, Marinette!"

"What a disappointment, Marinette, you would know better that you must be a good example for class."

"Fools. " Chloe curses under her breath at her teacher's comment.

"I'm. No matter who the person is, I'm not going to see them die if I can help avoid it. ”Marinette frowns at the teacher. There was a time when she thought it was amazing, but those were childish thoughts of a thirteen year old girl who thought the world was divide in black and white. The world is more than that.

Everyone is so engrossed in the uproar that they are not alert enough, Marinette gets mad at herself for not being more careful. The Joker, FUCKING JOKER, is in front of them with a stuffed animal? Marinette isn't going to question it, as far as she knows, it could be a bomb. Even so…

The class doesn't wait a second when they run away, Joker just laughs at the reaction. Chloe stands in front of the two wounded women, waiting for any sign of her best friend, whether to flee or fight.

Marinette scans her surroundings without taking her attention from the madman in front of her. Her first option would be to run, but she's not going to leave Harley and Ivy helpless in the face of the brutal clown-themed killer (all fully justified childhood fears). A moment of silence when the class screams are lost in the streets, it almost seems like a dramatic moment from an action movie.

Joker is excited. The two girls stayed behind to protect their toy and the redhead. He might be impressed; not just anyone would stay to face it. No one is so crazy. His gaze falls on the dark-haired girl, she looks too calm and in ambient. He smiles when he sees her walking to face him and bends down to grab a lever too convenient in the middle of the sidewalk. She's a fun girl! Before she does, he lunges for her. It will be a fun game between the two.

Chloe watches Marinette fight the Joker with a crowbar, take and hit. She can tell he wants to knock him out, but, well, he's not doing it. Brutal would be a good word to describe the little Parisian drawing blood from the man as he laughs as if he had been given the top prize in the lottery (Chloe firmly believes he really feels that way). And it seems he really likes Marinette, a shiver running down her spine at the thought. Chloe bends quickly towards the two women trying to get up, the more time passes the more possibilities there are for that crazy man to become obsessed with her friend and she will not allow it (Kagami will dismember her with her katana if she allows it).

Harley and Ivy barely manage to stand up, but lean heavily on Chloe. It does not bother her, her training has allowed her to support a little extra weight and as long as she does not have to carry them, there's no problem.

"If you don't hit harder, you won't win," Joker laughs with each comment, wanting to force the girl to be more brutal, even though she is too calm and his comments don't seem to reach her.

"Who said something about winning?" It's the first time she've answered him, he smiles. Marinette bites her tongue to containing any other comment, if she opens her mouth she will get the maniac to follow her to Paris and a madman behind her is enough.

Somehow, while fighting, he has cornered the group in a corner. Marinette berates herself for worrying too much about useless things and now she must win, but give him that satisfaction. Her hair stands on end, a bad blow and her weapon goes in the opposite direction and away from her. Now she only has a clean fist. She can work with it, even though her brain screams at her to run. She swallows thick when he lunges at her again. His mind is a constant alarm of: there's no cure, there's no cure, there's no cure.

But at that moment dark figures leap from the surrounding buildings and confront him, Marinette backs down without letting her guard down until her mind focuses enough to recognize them. The city vigilants.

From there everything is a whirlwind of thoughts and Marinette does not realize when the Joker has been placated and has them close, to the surprise them, she launches herself towards one totally random and remains in the arms of Nightwing who only smiles kindly at the agitated girl about to cry with relief.

"I, help ... them, yes ... wounds, that." Marinette can't hold a coherent sentence toward Nightwing.

"What he meant is that they are injured and need immediate medical attention." Chloe stands firm and will never admit that her legs are shaking, or that being held by Red Hood was welcome help. First dead than looking vulnerable.

Marinette lets herself slip into Nightwing's arms as all the adrenaline leaves her. It's been a long time since she felt this way helpless towards some danger, but she was just Marinette and there was no chance of Ladybug showing up. Thank heaven for the arrival of the vigilants.

"Robin has already alerted the police, he should be here soon." Batman looks at both girls for a moment, but turns to watch the unconscious Joker.

"Everything is fine. " Nightwing whispers to the little girl in his arms, he feels her tremble against him and he is no longer sure if it is the fear or has another origin.

In a short time the police are there and the two Parisian girls have to give a statement (unfortunately the loss of blood left the two women out of action).

"How it happend?" Chloe takes the initiative, Marinette doesn't seem to be ready to leave Nightwing or say something more coherent than a barely audible babble, clearly struggling to stay together between anxiety and guilt, because yes, Marinette Dupain-Cheng can't help blame herself. Sometimes, Chloe thinks, want to shake her until she regains her senses (but that doesn't work, Luka's melodies, on the contrary. Oh, they're magical).

"To begin with, this is the fault of our teacher's incompetence to choose a restaurant so close to the Crime Alley. Second, I am very surprised that it did not happen before because our companions were struggling to get the attention of a madman. They said so many stupid things." The vigilants raise an eyebrow at the girl's words, if they didn't know better they could believe that the girls didn't suffer a close encounter with the Joker. "And third, Dupain-Cheng is too good to let someone bleed to death in front of her and I too good a friend to see her jump into danger alone. This leaves me with the experience of never going on a trip with that band of incompetents. "

"Can you relate the incident?" Commissioner Gordon is tired, with each passing day new characters appear in the city and he is never ready. The girl hiding in Nightwing's arms and her friend who seems ready to declare war to anyone.

"They appeared bleeding, our companions being stupid, the madman appears and they all flee leaving us behind. Ha, surely they would have thrown us towards him if they had not been so afraid" Chloe doesn't miss the opportunity to make a dismissive comment to her class, Marinette is out of combat to reprimand her for being too cruel with her sincerity. "Dupain-Cheng being so sweet as an acid candy defends us, is done with a lever and gets into a fight with the madman. Somehow we ended up in this horrible place and well, they came along and Dupain-Cheng falls apart in her standard nervous form. It will be fine, it just tends to over-think. The only thing recorded is the split lip, the rest is her realizing a thousand possible scenarios where everything went wrong. "

That said, the four women are rushed to the hospital (Nightwing accompanies them because the young woman in his arms refused to release him and also didn't have the heart to leave her alone when it was obvious that she needed comfort). As soon as they arrive they are checked and Nightwing leaves, giving the girls a brief look before leaving.

"We will stay here, we want to make sure they are okay." Chloe takes control of the situation, refusing to abandon the women. Anyway, after the act on the street, he doubts that they will be well received by the class. She is sure they are not worried and can almost hear their irritating voices speaking nonsense about it.

The doctors allow it stay there with the endorsement of the police, they fall asleep on a sofa in the room where Harley and Ivy are locate. Marinette calmed down throughout the trip to the hospital, muttering apologies to the caretaker who accompanied her for sticking like a koala to his person. And her rest is very calm, without nightmares or anything; Maybe it's the emotional exhaustion of the experience, but there are no dreams riddled with deaths or with the Joker, there is only a deep black who embraces her like a good friend.

The next morning they are awakened by the voices of Harley and Ivy talking to the doctor, Chloe also recognizes the voice of the officer who took the statement yesterday.

"They were very daring and their classmates abandoned them, even the adult with them. "

"You should do something, Jimmy!"

Gordon notices the looks of the two girls and approaches to talk to them, being much more rested can better appreciate the mettle of the two young girls. Especially the dark-haired one, last night was a bunch of inconsistencies and today she looks completely calm, looking towards Harley and Ivy looking for confirmation of their health.

"Good morning, ladies. "

"Good morning, Officer. " Marinette greets with a friendly smile, focusing her attention on the officer. She knows that they must return to their class and return to Paris.

"No one reported two girls missing, but you mentioned they are on a class trip. Can I know the name of the person in charge to call them?"

"Claine Bustier from Paris, France. College Françoise Dupont, we stayed at the Gotham Royal Hotel. Our room is the 155. "Marinette enters all her data, but she also decides that it is better that she has absolutely all of them. "My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, 17 years old. My parents are Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain, they have a bakery. Tom & Sabine Boulangerie."

"Chloe Burgeois, I reside at the Hotel Le Grand Paris. My father is the mayor, André Burgeois, and my mother is Audrey Burgeois, the Queen of Style. "

Gordon takes note of all the information they have given him, if he cannot contact her teacher he has two pairs of parents to call for their daughters. And for them to be giving that contingency, he can intuit that they know that perhaps they imagine that it will be the case.

He immediately retires and leaves them alone with the two women. He has a job to do.

Gordon spent the whole morning trying to locate the teacher, according to the hotel they left him early in the morning and they have no idea about anything. He doesn't want to alarm the girls' parents yet, so he will first talk to them to find out if they know where they could be, he sends them to bring to the police station to facilitate the whole process, and he also asks for food for the girls. It's almost lunch time.

"Welcome, sit down." The two girls obey with slightly worried expressions, they seem to be fearing the worst. "I have been unable to locate their teacher or class, according to the hotel, they left early in the morning. "

Marinette holds her breath, reality hit her in the face. Chloe's not much better. It was their last night in Gotham, today they had to take a flight to Paris... they didn't it because they are sure that they abandoned them. They start muttering in French at Gordon's confusion, they look alarmed.

"Sir, we are supposed to go back to Paris today. And... well, lately our teacher hasn't been taking roll. Also, she take what our comrades say as fact." Marinette panics again, but this time there are no saviors and they are trapped in another country. "I just hope they didn't go to Paris without us..."

"Don't be innocent, Maribug." Chloe addresses her with her friend's loving nickname, sees her on the verge of panic and hopes to remind her that they are in this together. "Of course they left without us, she didn't count for a visit to the museum. What will be different today? A word from Lie-la and everything goes under her will."

There was a small second of surprise that gave way to panic interspersed with fury in Gordon's features, he turns to pick up the phone and call the airport in a frenzy. He began to demand passengers on flights to Paris, but was repeatedly denied and his patience goes overboard.

"Ladies, would you mind waiting outside?" "Marinette and Chloe obey. They stay near the door because they don't know where to go and catch the officer's scream." THERE ARE TWO CHILDREN WHO COULD HAVE BEEN ABANDONED BY THEIR TEACHER IN THE CITY! NOW TELL ME IF CALINE BUSTIER BOEARDED THE FUNCKING PLANE WITH HER STUDENTS OR NOT! "

Boiling with anger and after a few more screams, Gordon has the information. But he's still so furious that he could commit murder on the spot. Worst of all, he also has video evidence of a student tearing up two airline tickets that, if you have to guess, are those of the girls they left behind. What do those people have in mind? He already feel the migraine coming.

He drops into his chair, counts to ten, and decides to call Bruce. Technically, being a Wayne Foundation sponsored trip, he's responsible for the two girls and with him in charge it will be easier to deal with the parents.

"Hey, Bruce. I have a situation, the Wayne Foundation sponsored a class trip for the Françoise Dupont School and the teacher in charge left two of his students abandoned in the country; I have video evidence of their negligence and I am sure that in every place they went to there is has least one camera that must have caught something. " He massages his forehead, it's not his jurisdiction, but when doing it in his territory he can form a case and send it to the Paris police for follow. "You should come and take care of them while we resolve to take them home, one of her classmates broke their tickets and I'm not even sure if their belongings are in good condition. "

"I understand, Jim. I'll take over, I'll be there soon. "

Gordon is relatively more relieved, but no less angry. He gets up to ask them to come back in and tell them what will happen, so they won't be surprised to see Bruce Wayne coming for them.

"Bruce will take care of you, make all the preparations for your return trip to Paris. And while you come, how normal is the situation with your teacher and your classmates?" He watches the silent interaction and the blonde is the one talking.

"We are the only two people in our class who do not believe Lie-la's lies. Maribug earned her hatred by trying to expose her stories for what they are: lies. And I, well, I was never going to let myself be bowed down by someone like her. "Marinette denies because of the choice of words.

"She considers us an obstacle in her reign. When she arrived, I never believed her because the stories were too unrealistic even for our standards in the class, considering that we all know a fair amount of celebrities and we all form a very diverse group with a promising future, I mean we have Max, he create an AI capable of feeling emotions. So when I didn't believe her and tried to make my friends see reason, she swore that she would take everything away from me ... And she did, it wouldn't have been so bad if it were just that, I realized who my true friends are and that I shouldn't trust anyone. The real problem is the way in which he influenced them all, I cann't longer recognize Alya, she is even worse than Chloe years ago. "Marinette sighs, remembering the last years is exhausting in many ways. "So they have marginalized us, they attack us only because Lila says that we did something to her even when we were not there and we have witnesses who can confirm our stories..."

"Seeing them is like seeing a surreal work with abstract tendencies, impossible to believe what you are seeing. The worst is Bustier, she's a facilitator. I hadn't seen the problem before, but now that I'm in Maribug's place too, well, we were clearly wrong about what kind of teacher she was. She believes all her lies and even congratulates her on them! She let use everyone to her holy whim and antagonize those who don't. ”Chloe gets up indignant and ready to continue ranting, not many adults stop to listen to them. "I'm tired of hearing the same speech from her must be the best person, Marinette. Be a good example! Someone should teach him didactics, she obviously doesn't know what she's doing. And now she leaves us in another country! Negligent, stupid, facilitator ..."

"Chloe, stop it. He understood your point. "Marinette is the voice of reason and tries to appease her friend's overflowing anger. It's true that having someone willing to listen is cathartic, but they should not take so many liberties.

"It's not fair, Maribug, not with you. Always ready to help others and they simply attack you when you decide to think about yourself and your future. They think you owe them something and it's totally the other way around because without you, that class wouldn't be half as good as it's ... because when you took the class presidency they all grew in their areas..."Chloe sits down again, her brow furrowed and still very angry. "They don't deserve you. "

"Miss Bustier often asks me to help her with different tasks, before it meant an additional workload… I became her disappointment when I told her that I would not do more work outside of my duties as class president, it dictated by the rules of the institution. She lectured me that I should not be selfish, that it's for the benefit of the class ... and well, I told him that if she gave me half her salary I would gladly continue doing her job. She punished me, but it was the truth. "Marinette looks at her hands, that conversation was before the trip to Gotham and her punishment would start as soon as they returned to Paris, a pity that left her abandoned.

Surprised is a word that falls short, Gordon doesn't understand how an adult woman can be so irrational. What kind of alternate dimension does that class live in? A person with at least two functioning neurons would not be so ridiculous; At least, he thinks, perhaps the lies are well crafted as unrealistic as they may have seemed, correct?

"All this arose from the lies of that girl, how are those lies? "He feels like asking was a bad idea and the looks of the two girls are confirmation.

"She has tinnitus because she saved Jagged Stone's kitten from being run over by an airplane." Marinette replies completely blank.

"She knows half of Hollywood and recently said that she knows the whole Wayne family and that Damian Wayne has been her friend since she was five years old. "Marinette snorts not holding her stoic expression, they only said some lies, but it is that the others border on the delirium that they do not they want to end up in Arkham just for repeating it. That last one, of course, was very close. "I wish someone would warn her that the boy lived with his mother until he was ten years old. "

From there, Chloe gives more details and there is no longer Marinette who can stop her. By the time Bruce arrives with two of his boys, Gordon is on a call with the French police for a case to be brought to the French Board of Education about the school and its unethical methods of education, citing Marinette's unfair expulsion which looks it's still on the school record.

Bruce looks at the two girls in Gordon's office, the blonde looks ready for war and the other girl is sitting quietly. Dick and Tim walk behind him; Richard couldn't resist seeing the girl who hung on him as a koala baby again and Tim is there for exactly the same as Bruce, taking charge because is also his responsibility.

"Good afternoon." Bruce greets, catching the attention of the two Parisian girls. They return the greeting and Gordon only makes a gesture of recognition, the police chief reviews the video he sent and the evidence he has of the case, he can hear him muttering indignantly and something about his daughter being part of all that circus.

"Hey!" Richard greets as well, being friendlier than his adoptive father. "I'm Richard, but you can call me Dick and this is Tim, my little brother. ”Tim gives him a contemplative look and just nods at them. His eyes fixed on everything but the two girls.

"I'm Marinette and she's Chloe, nice to meet you." Marinette smiles brightly. Dick can't believe he's the same girl of last night, but apparently she is.

Gordon ends the call at that time, the police said to initiate a police investigation and to involve the Board of Education.

"Well, ladies. When they get home they will ask for your formal statement and the presentation of the charges, although it seems that the prosecution will take care of that. ”He smiles at the girls, who agree with his words. Chloe celebrates, of course it will involve her father too. "Hi Bruce, thanks for coming."

"Of course. And since you mentioned the investigation, Tim collected all of the security camera files from the past two weeks. Every place they were in is in the file. " Tim hands the memory over to the commissioner, he still has a copy on the computer to review in detail himself.

"Thanks, I will review it and send the parts of interest to France."

After that, the five retreat to the Wayne Manor. The suitcases, or what is left of them, awaits they there. Any impression they might have on seeing the mansion falls short because of the disgust of seeing its things ruined.

"Well, Maribug, can I take this as evidence for my theory?" The hosts are still close enough to hear his words, even though they were about to leave them alone.

"Lila's being a meta or the Akuma's?" Marinette rummages in the secret compartments of her suitcase to make sure it was not raped, fortunately it's intact. It's safe to say that none of them thought that it would have a false base with a secret content, the place where the box of miracles rests. Ever since Hawkmoth decided to target her, she has been a little paranoid, or well, very paranoid. She has two secret compartments inside a secret compartment in her room, to store it, but being so far away she didn't feel calm and decided to carry it with her. Maybe it should include some riddle like firewall.

"Akuma, but Lie-la's also fits."

"I think it's the second one, only the class behaves this stupid so we can't blame Hawkmoth, half Paris continues to maintain it's logical reasoning. "Marinette shrugs and classifies the clothes that still serve and the clothes which inevitably must Discard.

Chloe just hums in agreement, it's a valid point. Long nights of conversation with Kagami and Luka (Marinette's small notes) to determine the motives of the class being so incoherent and violent without a truly logical reason led to those two theories.

"You have to call home, Chloe. You already heard Mr. Wayne. "

"Yeah yeah, I'm going to. At least I brought the least glamorous clothes for this trip. "

That's a ground call for Tim, who had overheard their conversation upon hearing something curious. He must prepare the trip to Paris with Wayne's private plane, Bruce wants to take charge of the situation and speak in person with the parents of both girls. Every hour he knows they won't be leaving until the next day, giving them time to spend time with their unexpected guests.

The call is quick and enough for Marinette to fear that her mother will become Akuma. A message from her father confirms that her fears were unfounded, that her mother's anger is cold and will not fall into Hawkmoth's hands.

When the two girls relax and take a breather, knowing that they will sleep in that mansion, they don't even have time to think twice when Jason drags them into a room full of weapons, Marinette can barely contain her surprise and Chloe glows with excitement.

"Ready to learn how to shoot a gun?" Chloe jumps with badly contained enthusiasm, Marinette is not so enthusiastic about it, but learning to remove a weapon considers that it is something useful for what she asks to start there. "Okay, pixie-pop, I'll teach you how to take apart and lock a weapon."

They spend an entire two hours immersed in the world of weapons, Chloe going through each type as Marinette confronts Jason to disarm him, showing off her quick learning, though not good enough to beat her temporary master.

When Marinette leaves, claiming she doesn't want to shoot, she bumps into Damian and asks him for directions to get out of there.

"Because I should?"

"If I get lost it will be your fault." He snorts, but accepts. He doesn't want a stranger sniffing around the mansion and sticking his nose where it shouldn't. They walk in silence when she notices he is carrying a sword. "Is it a katana?"

"What else would it be?"

"An umbrella." She laughs at the boy's annoyed expression when he turns to look at her as if he thinks she's crazy. "There is a design inspired by katanas, a friend decided it was a good idea to scare us with it..."

"Pff. And why did you believe it?"

"She really tried to cut off someone's hand one day, it was with a saber, but ... we really believed her capable of attacking someone with a katana" Damian only raises an eyebrow with a curiosity that he refuses to admit even to himself. "And she's deadly with a sword, we vowed never to face her again with real swords unless we somehow became Superman. "

"Can you fight with swords?" He was being tolerant by allowing her to speak at first, but the latter did catch his attention. It may not be a good one, but having someone who won't cut its finger on themselves in a workout can be helpful, and if he can get her better, a decent opponent to practice with.

"I avoided she cutting my arm with a katana, does that count?"

It changes course and they head to another room, similar to the weapons room, but this time it is full of swords and knives. She respects people's hobbies, she does, but the amount is over the top and she has a slight suspicion that there is more somewhere in the big mansion. Will there be a pump room? She wouldn't be surprised if one of the other two brothers suddenly came out claiming fanaticism about the explosives.

"I want to see how bad you are."

Ouch, Marinette thinks. She has been ruled out immediately, but will not decline now that she's surrounded by so many weapons. She does feel more excited about a sword than a gun, they can't blame her for preferring close combat.

"We will fight with katana, take whatever you want. They are all polished and sharp. ”She feels something dark when she mentions the sharp, as well as pride in the perfect maintenance of her weapons. She smiles confidently, the boy reminds her of Kagami (albeit much more somber and clearly hostile).

Having chosen, the two are placed in position. And he begins to criticize hard and coldly.

"Your posture is very loose, you will only get him to cut your throat with the first blow. Your friend is an idiot, she must has corrected you since he saw you. ”Mariette nods. "Imitate me. ”She obeys, reflecting her posture. "But be firmer, this is not a dance, it's a fight and if you don't stand up fine. Well, you will dead. "

After several minutes in the same position, they begin. A couple of movements and he correct her again.

"The movement must be strong and fluid, you will cause a fracture on your own if you allow the elbow to continue flexing like this. You must be precise in the movements, you cann't start to experiment if you don't have dominated the base. Again. "

With each criticism and correction the girl makes, she becomes more excited. Damian is relentless with his comments, openly insulting her for her mistakes, but gives the correct and fair corrections for the problem she presents.

"You are agile and flexible, use it to your advantage. Put aside unnecessary movements, sword fighting is offensive and deadly." Marinette notices that she is having fun, if the smile says anything (however mischievous it is when she mocks her mistakes). At least until he stumbles over his own feet and falls flat on his face in front of Damian. "You're an idiot?! You almost stabbed yourself, you can't fall like this! Get up and regain the dignity you have left. Again and don't fall or I’ll stab yourself. "

Marinette has a good time, she doesn't even notice the time she spends training with Damian. Alfred interrupts them by announcing that dinner has been served since fifteen minutes.

"Thanks Alfred." She smiles kindly.

Damian reluctantly guards the sword, his brothers always choose other weapons when training. It was satisfying to have someone willing to fight him in his area, especially for his quick learning, he only had to correct twice about posture and movement; he also noticed that she was imitating his movements to correct himself as they fought. Less useless than his brothers, he will give she that.

When they enter, everyone is eating or so it seems. Tim looks at his plate as if he is going to speak to him at any moment, Dick talks more than he eats (with Stephanie who came interested in the two girls who could be victims of Bruce's adoption), Jason has not even touched the plate and in change is arguing over the theory of how to disassemble a grenade launcher with Chloe. Bruce is the only one who eats in silence, at least until he sees his youngest son arrive with Marinette.

"Excuse me." Marinette sits in the empty seat next to Tim, who barely registers the movement. She worries a little, she seems to be in her bad weeks (say Hawkmoth and her Akuma at three in the morning).

Dinner passes unceremoniously, past Damian demanding they shut up, almost stabbing Marinette's hand with his fork. And contrary to what anyone might think, she just laughs, the whole situation seemed so refreshing, so many people at a table and the familiarity with which they were received. She feels comfortable, even with Damian's passive-aggressive attitude.

Somehow, an hour later, they are dragged back into another room. This time both Chloe and Marinette want to scream, and Mari feels she can be relieved because it didn't result in bombs or anything more dangerous than the other two. He gets them comfortable clothes so they can get on, knowing that they have been sweating and going in normal clothes.

Chloe does not hesitate to climb on the trapeze after warming up, but Marinette sits on the parallel bars, not that she is not willing to do the same as Chloe, but she flies often enough as Ladybug to look for something calmer, although she should take advantage and she would like to have a private gym like that, because there are also weights and a punching bag.

Dick is in cloud nine watching how the two girls look like fish in the water, he imagined that it would be so. Especially when she saw Marinette training with Damian and the movements she made, she is clearly a gymnast. And being there, well, that the two of them are so enthusiastic only makes it better. Unlike his brothers, he just wants them to have fun.

At some point in the time they take turns between the bars and the trapeze, Dick and Chloe end up competing. While Marinette is happy on the uneven bars until Damian re-monopolizes her and they move to the weapons room; leaving the other two doing jumps and twists in the air (Dick wins, of course).

Of course, Marinette enjoys the workout and is glad she didn't end up hurt in any way. It would be funny to explain to her parents that they ended up fighting with swords with a boy four years younger and that he did not have the mercy to avoid hurting her.

"Better than a few hours ago, you're not that horrible anymore. "

"Decent, right?"

"That is too favorable for you, you still trip over the air and almost take your eye out." Damian frowns in disappointment at the incompetence of maintaining a decent balance when he has both feet on the ground. When he saw her on the uneven bars, it was almost believed that the jumps that ended in disaster were fake, but no, she really stumbled into nothingness itself.

"Uh, sorry. I will do it better.

"You better, I won't admit any more stupid mistakes."

Damian would have preferred to go on patrol, but he won't complain about the training either. He had fun at the girl's expense and, above all, he knows that if he sees her again and she keeps practicing (he will make sure of that) he will be a better rival than today. She can even introduce that friend of her to measure levels, he's better of course but it never hurts to re-confirm.

At ten at night they go to bed, Alfred shows the room to the two girls and lets them settle down. Marinette can't sleep, after four hours of tossing and turning, she resigns herself and leaves, looking at Tikki on her pillow sleeping comfortably, she can't help envying her good rest. Pick up your phone and it's 2:15.

She curses her insomnia and wanders around the mansion, somehow miraculously ends up in the kitchen. It is a dim light that directs her there, since everything else is dark, she didn't even feel when went downstairs.

In the kitchen, Tim is leaning against the table with his computer on and a steaming coffee. Suddenly he gets up and turns to her with a surprised (and very confused) expression, but more surprised Marinette is when he does that.

"Oh Im sorry…"

"No, no ... Uh, can't you sleep?"

"Usually not. What are you doing?" Marinette knows that she is taking, perhaps, too much liberties when curious about what Tim is doing, but she is not sleepy and there is nothing else to do.

"Work, Wayne Industries is developing a new model of heavy machinery for moving cargo containers, much more resistant to be located on the coasts for the rainy seasons… I am reviewing all the designs, suggested materials and profitability of each project to present to the board in three weeks. There are seven different models, and none are tailored to it needs. " Tim shows the blueprint of the last model he has reviewed, flipped it over several times, and revised the materials, but they are not entirely satisfactory for what he is seeking to present.

"It looks complicated, how do you know if it adapts to it needs or not?" Marinette sits next to him, interested in the project. She know he is the CEO of Wayne Enterprise and every division in the company, but seeing the work he does is something different. "If you have to go through those kinds of projects and take care of other tasks, i'm not surprised that you're so sleep deprived"

"Well, the demand is analyzed first." Open another file of the works of the sector where the new project is directed. "Here, the work of the machinery must meet the standards in relation to the pace of work and the climate, considering that it wants to deliver a specific model for working on coasts. This is only to increase efficiency and allow a slightly longer time frame between maintenances. Metals corrode with greater speed and, sometimes, the weather is so bad that it avoids correct maintenance; storms in mid-spring flood the ports. fairly frequently and parts need to be replaced more frequently This new model should allow greater resistance to these conditions. "

"Interesting, and are you always watching projects?"

"Not all projects, Wayne Biotechnology projects do not review this way, it is not my area. It's usually the manager of the division who presents new projects to the board. However, I still have to review other aspects of all the divisions of the company and that includes them all…"

"It's still a lot of work, is it that heavy or do you overload yourself?" Marinette inquires with playful curiosity, Tim shifts nervously.

"A little of both?"

"Oh.So, you need a better coffee. ”She takes the liberty of trying the one she is drinking. "It's still very light. I will share with you my winning recipe, it has kept me up for an entire week with one hour of daily sleep. "

Marinette gets up and moves in the kitchen as if she were the owner of the place, looking for what she needs. Seeing the coffee, she is surprised.

"Black Insomnia?"

"I can only have one cup a week, Alfred thinks it's going to kill me if I drink it every day. I have made an agreement, he doesn't tell me anything about not sleeping and I comply with taking it once a week."

"It's totally valid. " Marinette laughs and puts the coffee back in its place. "Whiskey. It will come handy. "

"What?" Tim watches the girl open the bottle to smell her, it's one of the ones Alfred confiscated from Jason a week ago. "Why Whiskey?"

"Other flavor, vodka is better, but I can work with this. Do you have mint?"

Tim remains dubious as he watches her work with the most random ingredients he could think of for a coffee, also yogurt? He won't question it, but was France so strange?

A few minutes later Marinette hands him a cup.

"It has less caffeine than a regular cup, but the energy it provides is much greater. If you drink one cup per hour, with this you only need one to run at least four. It's magical, come on, don't see it like that. ”She pouts and he decides to take it.

"It is safe? I don't think Alfred is happy that you murder me with coffee."

"I think Damian would have a party."

"Oh, the demon's ally. Since I didn't see it coming, I gave you my trust and that's how you pay me. "

They both laugh, Tim finally trying the coffee. He will give she points for the taste, he don't even feel that it has alcohol and ultimately he feel more alive than a moment ago. He can continue working.

They both stay in the kitchen, Tim works until five in the morning. Marinette fell asleep at one point in that time and he settled her in such a way that when he falls asleep she is his pillow. The sad thing is that not even putting together the hours of sleep of both can they add up to three.

Alfred enters deciding to wake up the teenagers, the plane will leave in two hours and they must prepare. Tim looks for his cup of coffee and has finished it, he doesn't want to move.

"Now, Master Tim. Be a responsible boy and they'll go change. ”Marinette is barely aware of her surroundings as she is dragged into the rooms by Tim, but neither is he does.

Neither of them fully records what happens, except getting to a bed and going back to sleep. Totally out of combat. When they are close to leaving, Bruce doesn't even know what think on seeing the two young sleeping like corpses, dressed exactly the same as the day before.

"Chloe, help Marinette get ready. Dick, help Tim. We're leaving in ten minutes. ”The two mentioned only look at each other in panic before running to wake up the dead.

Marinette barely registers, feeling terribly drained now that all the effort from the day before is building up. He could sleep a thousand years if he were allowed to. They get ready in record time and move to the airport, for the only thing Marinette is aware of is to her luggage, being that she hugs it and when she asks, she murmurs: I love this suitcase, but don't tell my other suitcases, they get angry. No one says anything except for Jason's small laugh and a snort from a more sleepy than awake Tim who responds: who will tell them? No one knows them. Jason breaks down after that and laughs out loud.

Richard regrets not having recorded the most hilarious conversation he has ever witnessed, he has heard his little brother say inconsistent things in his sleep deprivation, but seeing an exchange is something very different. And it's so funy.

And they spend hours on the plane, Marinette basically asleep on Tim while he seems to melt in the seat. Richard took lots of photos every time they moved. By the time they get to Paris, they are both more awake.

Chloe smiles at her city, excited for what awaits all the bastards who left them behind. Maybe it is justice for everyone else, but for her it's revenge and she wants to see them suffer for hurting them both.

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

Thanks for reading!

#timari #Timinette #tim x marinette #marinette x tim #maribat #bustier salt #ml x dc

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cheri-translates · 4 years

Text

[CN] Gavin’s R&S - Ashes

🍒This R&S (浴火) is part of the Dream Heart Lake event which has not been released in EN🍒

This R&S makes reference to Tilted Time, so do read that first if you haven’t!

Cancelled Gavin R&S:

> minor’s memos

> tilted time

> little bro’s self-cultivation

> Ashes ♡

[ Chapter One ]

It is the thirteenth day of hunting down the wanted criminal.

This is Gavin’s first actual participation in auxiliary work, which is completely different from the simulations on ordinary days.

The criminal’s name is Qianyu, and his modus operandi is so cruel that it makes one’s hair stand on end. The Evol he possesses is temporarily unable to be analysed, and his excellent anti-reconnaissance skills have prevented the pursuit from proceeding normally. The situation does not look optimistic.

This town is not large, and there are few places to hide. Even so, there’s not a single trace of him. Unless another explosion occurs somewhere--

Just as the captain of this current mission marks the previous explosion on the map, a ball of fire rises up less than ten kilometres away from the STF office.

What follows is the sound of explosions reminiscent of thunder.

It’s ear-splitting.

“Since it’s the daytime, there aren’t many people in the village. We’re currently confirming the number of casualties, but this entire village... is considered destroyed.”

Hearing yet another piece of grievous news, the pen in the captain’s hands snaps completely.

[ Chapter Two ]

It is Gavin’s second year in the Special Police Academy, and he has been assigned to this difficult task force. Aside from him, ten names belong to newbies like him, and thirty names belong to experienced Evol Special Agents. He didn’t think the situation would escalate to such a worrying state.

Gavin watches as charred bodies are carried out from the debris. What plays in front of his eyes seems to be another scene of a big, curling fire. It scorches him till his eyeballs hurt.

Liye walks over to him, his voice hoarse: “I suddenly feel that I’m very useless.”

Gavin gives him a glance, and Liye continues: “There was a time I thought my abilities could enable me to save many people. But it doesn’t seem to be the case.”

Gavin doesn’t speak, and simply clenches his fist.

Liye, like Gavin, is a second year in the Special Police Academy who possesses a healing Evol. As comrades in the same squadron, Liye very much wanted to be Gavin’s partner during the task force formation. But from the looks of it, the organisation didn’t hear the prayer in his heart.

Liye also remembers the first time he met Gavin. Back then, they happened to just enter their second round of training. which involved arresting and fighting. When Gavin was brought into the training grounds by the instructor, he carried only a simple backpack, and the shirt he wore even had a few traces of dried blood.

Liye looked at Gavin’s face, which was filled with blackish-green hues. His interest was piqued. He knew very clearly that entering this Academy required one to go through a monstrous trial. And out of all the new students, Gavin suffered the most severe injuries.

Was he too weak? Was it really okay for him to be here?

Liye thought about this silently, and he ended up getting punched squarely in the face.

A fellow trainee comrade looked at him apologetically, and then grumbled: “Why aren’t you fighting properly? What are you looking at?”

Liye wiped away the blood at the corner of his lips, sighing that his opponent couldn’t control his strength. But he didn’t experience any pain at all, and he had already gotten used to it since early on. He waved his hands, signalling that his comrade could continue.

During their evening rest, Liye discovered that the new guy was called Gavin. His comrades’ assessment of him consisted of just a few words: Cold, arrogant, and aloof.

It happened to be Liye’s turn to go patrolling that night, and he saw Gavin on the field. He was undergoing mandatory additional training in order to catch up with their current progress. Liye was just about to greet him, but ended up on the ground when Gavin failed to retract his punch in time.

When Gavin returned to his senses, he saw Liye on the floor, completely unscathed. Liye even shot him a smile.

[ Chapter Three ]

Gavin furrowed his brows.

Liye climbed back to his feet and said: “I didn’t get to say hello. I’m Liye, and am a new student like you!”

Gavin turned away from him, continuing with his training:

“Stay away from me.”

Liye felt that Gavin couldn’t continue this way.

So of course, he didn’t listen to what Gavin said about staying away from him. On the contrary, he got even closer to him. For example, when it was Gavin’s turn to do night patrolling, Liye would secretly sneak downstairs to greet him. When Gavin was eating, another set of cutlery would inexplicably appear next to him. There were no need for questions - it belonged to Liye.

Liye didn’t have any intentions aside from feeling that Gavin was someone with a story. He was unwilling to watch him coldly isolate himself from his comrades and live a solitary life, especially when the fighting classes required a comrade to practice with...

The other comrades also felt that Gavin’s coldness made it difficult to get close to him - there were even multiple “Gavin is too cold - let’s put a stop to his power” challenges. But at the end of the day, they all belonged “to the same species”. Furthermore, Liye was such a peacemaker. Also, there was a time when a picture of a girl was discovered among Gavin’s articles of clothing, leading to collective hollering.

As time passed, Gavin was no longer as resistant as before. Of course, he was still the same, not revealing much expression on his face.

Gavin’s fighting skills were top-notch. Even though he emerged as the best among the trainees in almost every course, his fighting was the “best of the best”. Several comrades who exchanged blows with him ended up with extremely shocking “decorations”. This made Liye even more surprised - why was such an amazing person in a pitiable state at the very beginning?

Gavin hurriedly caught Liye’s punch. Liye, with a face full of bruises, wasn’t sure how many times he had been thrown onto the ground by Gavin. Before a minute passed, the bruises had already vanished without a trace.

Someone shouted from the side: “Gavin, there’s no need to hold back - this brat doesn’t feel pain!”

Liye immediately waved his hands: “Even though it doesn’t hurt, I still sustain internal injuries!”

In the sixth month since joining the Academy, Gavin received a command from the main instructor.

Gavin stood in a military posture in front of a large, solid wooden table. On the chair behind the table was a man, sitting straight and proper in his seat. He flipped through Gavin’s materials. After a while, he raised his eyebrows in amusement.

He lifted his head and looked at Gavin, asking: “You fight well?”

Gavin’s posture was as straight as always, and his voice was light: “So-so.”

[ Chapter Four ]

Once the words left his lips, the figure vanished from the chair. In a split second, Gavin leaned his head to the side, raising his hand to steadily catch the fist coming towards him from his rear left, and the other fist ready to deal a blow against his opponent. However, the other party flashed to the open window a full two meters away from him.

The man laughed loudly and applauded: “Your speed is okay.”

He could see it - this youth was very stubborn. Gavin looked incredibly cold, but what was colder were his moves.

Gavin saluted the man and quickly returned to position, standing straight.

The man squeezed his shoulder and said: “The 8th Warriors Competition will be held in two weeks. We will send you to fight.”

Gavin was aware of this competition. Not long after he enrolled, he happened to overhear his comrades mentioning it. During the competition, every country would send its most stellar new elite student to go through live combat in various areas. It would test the students’ holistic abilities, including - but not limited to - fighting skills. The student who emerged as champion would represent the country and receive the highest honour and stand on the podium where every Evol Special Police would know him.

This is where Evol Special Police from all over the world can interact and learn from each other, engage in the first battlefield of competition, and is the only stage recognised by the International Special Police organisation.

Gavin refused without even thinking: “I’m not going.”

The man’s hand stiffened: “This isn’t a discussion.”

Gavin glanced at him: “There are people in the team who can fight better than me and want to participate.”

The man smiled and asked: “Is that so? Give me one more reason.”

He had brought in so many officers with special abilities - when receiving such an opportunity, all of them would be generous with expressing their gratitude. This was the first time someone had rejected him.

Gavin answered: “I didn’t come here to win a medal.”

When he heard this, the man chuckled and patted his shoulder. “I can respect you, and give you time to consider. But you must know that if you choose the Evol Special Police, you’re choosing to give up the freedom to act independently.

Not long after, the news of Gavin’s refusal to participate in the Warrior’s Competition spread throughout the entire organisation. Some comrades boldly flicked his hair and whistled, expressing that it was a very cool move. After pushing his comrade to the side, Liye’s big face appeared.

“When you refused, did you feel like you were explosively cool?!”

Gavin found Liye’s exuberant smile incredibly strange. In a rare good mood, he arched a brow and asked Liye: “You want to go?”

Thinking about it seriously, Liye said: “It’s not a matter of whether I want to. But if I have the chance, I might give it a try.”

“Why?”

Liye crinkled his eyes: “My siblings admire the police the most. If I can become the most amazing policeman, they will definitely be very happy.”

In the end, Gavin didn’t participate in the Warrior’s Competition. The person who was sent was another student with the surname Bai.

[ Chapter Five ]

On the thirtieth day of hunting down the wanted criminal, the two confront each other for the fist time.

He doesn’t know how long they were engaged in combat, but Gavin finally figures it out - this person’s Evol is the ability to construct barriers. No matter how one shoots, he will not get hurt. His only weakness is probably the head. Gavin stares at his head region, his eyes sharp.

He isn’t sure how many explosives Qianyu is carrying - perhaps even Qianyu himself is a powerful bomb. It’s just that in this arrest, too many comrades have fallen.

Qianyu takes a punch from Gavin, and the force from the fist of wind causes his entire body to slam against the ruined wall. The moment he falls, a group of Special Police surround him.

Qianyu stands up, wiping off traces of blood at the corner of his mouth. He sneers: I didn’t expect that I’d fall at the hands of a small Special Police officer.”

Under the dazzling sun, a gust of wind lifts Gavin’s white windbreaker, causing it to flutter.

Looking at the youth floating mid-air, Qianyu suddenly glares and releases a roar. In an instant, his body muscles become swollen and firm, and even the colour of his skin turns a different colour - it becomes slightly blackish.

Gavin widens his eyes slightly, reacting immediately--

“Be careful!” Gavin shouts. As he dives downwards, he quickly pulls the nearest brother with him and drops to the ground.

There are an unknown number of powerful explosives detonating at the same time. The air rushes past, broken stones flying haphazardly.

The loud noise almost shatters Gavin’s eardrums. His head seems to have been fiercely hammered by something heavy, but he can still feel the rubble shifting against his body.

After an inordinate amount of time, the thick smoke dissipates. This place seems to have been stepped on by a giant beast, and has turned into a ruin.

[ Chapter Six ]

Gavin pushes away the stone weighing down on him. Suddenly, he spots a familiar figure not far away, lying in the pit, face down. His hands are outstretched as he supports himself off the ground, as though protecting something.

Gavin recognises that it’s Liye. Gavin does everything he can to push the stones away from Liye’s body, and sees his face coated in blood. There is also a broken stone piercing Liye’s abdomen, and from it continuously oozes viscous liquid.

Gavin lifts his body and finds two small figures curled up and unconscious - two children who couldn’t evacuate in time just now.

Liye sees Gavin’s face, and smiles: “You...”

Gavin removes his jacket and desperately presses it against Liye’s abdomen, which is bleeding uncontrollably. He roars: “Shut up!”

Liye smiles again: “Don’t be so fierce towards me, it hurts...”

Gavin clenches his fists, and hears a weak voice: “Are the two children okay?”

Gavin nods.

Liye channels a trace of a smile: “You must remember to bury me next to my siblings, or they will be scared.”

Gavin looks at Liye’s weak smile and suddenly feels ten thousand arrows impaling his heart.

Liye’s voice is so soft that he can barely hear it: “I used to blame myself a lot. Even though I have Evol, I couldn’t save my siblings...”

Gavin tightens his grip on Liye’s hand. He knows. He understands. Liye seems to want to say something, but his head is akin to a broken puppet. Just like that, it hangs loose on Gavin’s arm, devoid of life.

Gavin scans his surroundings. The ruins are filled with people who had stood in front of him just a few minutes ago, alive and breathing.

The corpses of his comrades are unidentifiable. It turns out that in their very first actual combat, they would face life and death.

It felt like yesterday when they had smiled and hooked their arms around his shoulders, beckoning him to eat with them, mocking him for hiding a picture of a girl...

No matter how cold his expression was, they would always respond with a smile.

When they went to fighting classes together, everyone would wave their hands and avoid him from afar. Only Liye would crinkle his eyes and say: “I’ll practice with you.” No matter how many times he was thrown to the ground, he never complained.

Everything that happened seems to have vanished in an instant.

There’s nothing left.

Gavin lies down amid the ruins, the scorching sun constantly stinging his eyes. From his cloudy vision, he sees the helicopter hovering above his head, and familiar voices near his ears. Some are angry, some are cold, and some are sad. He places a hand on his chest--

There, the girl’s photograph is completely intact. Only a corner of it has been stained wet with the blood continuously trickling downwards. He seems to hear the song played and sung by the girl - softy, gently, slowly and leisurely entering his body, and invading his heart.

He remembers the book that was once held in the arms of the girl. The one he couldn’t understand no matter how he tried - “Byron’s Poetry Collection”--

For my part, I’ll enlist on neither side.

[Note] In Chinese, the line translates to: Neither “Life” nor “Death” can constrain me.

Maybe now, he can finally understand it...

Gavin smiles broadly.

Other cancelled R&S: here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc gavin #cncancelled

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raeynbowboi · 4 years

Text

How to Play as Princess Zelda in DnD 5e (Version 2.0)

I’ve made a build of Princess Zelda before, but I’ve improved as a player and DM since last, and I’m eager to give this a second chance. I’ve also decided that since Zelda and Shiek are separate characters in Smash, this rebuild of Zelda is omitting Shiek from her build. Frankly, Shiek should have been omitted last time too, which is why I’m retooling Zelda’s build. So, let’s delve back into the powers and abilities of Princess Zelda and see if we can’t build her better than before.

For Race, Zelda is a Hylian, which seem perfect as High Elves. You get +2 Dex and +1 INT. However, the Eladrin Elf gets something very useful. The automatic ability to Fey Step. Considering you only get 1 teleportation spell until you unlock 5th level spells, this is a very useful racial feature for increasing your teleportation ability. So, you can choose either the Eladrin Elf for the built in Fey Step, or you can choose High Elf for more useful stats.

For alignment, Zelda is the embodiment of lawfulness in Hyrule, and the Triforce of Wisdom gives her the decision-making knowledge to rule wisely and justly. So, she’ll work nicely as Lawful Good.

For a Background, the top contenders are either Noble if you want proficiency in History and Persuasion, or an Acolyte for proficiency in Insight and Religion.

Gifts of the Goddesses

In Super Smash Bros., Zelda’s moveset is comprised of gifts from the three goddesses of Hyrule: Din, Nayru, and Farore. Din’s Fire creates a small sphere of fire that builds up and deals damage on a hit. Nayru’s Love creates a jewel-shaped shield around Zelda that not only protects her from harm, but can also reflect projectile attacks back, and harms opponents that get too close. Finally, Farore’s Wind lets her teleport. If an opponent is standing where she lands, she deals damage to that opponent.

Din’s Fire (Fire Damage)

Create Bonfire (Artificer, Druid, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard) Firebolt (Artificer, Sorcerer, Wizard) Sacred Flame (Cleric, Paladin) Burning Hands (Sorcerer, Wizard, Light Cleric, Fiend Warlock) Aganazzar’s Scorcher (Sorcerer, Wizard) Flaming Sphere (Druid, Sorcerer, Wizard, Alchemist Artificer, Light Cleric, Clestial Warlock) Scorching Ray (Sorcerer, Wizard, Light Cleric, Wildfire Druid, Fiend Warlock, Artillerist Artificer) Fireball (Sorcerer, Wizard, Light Cleric, Wildfire Druid, Fiend Warlock, Artillerist Artificer) Flame Strike (Cleric, Wildfire Druid, Paladin, Celestial Warlock, Fiend Warlock) Immolation (Druid, Sorcerer, Wizard) Investiture of Flame (Druid, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard) Delayed Blast Fireball (Sorcerer, Wizard) Firestorm (Cleric, Druid, Sorcerer) Incendiary Cloud (Druid, Sorcerer, Wizard)

Nayru’s Love (Warding)

Mage Armor (Sorcerer, Wizard, Warlock: Armor of Shadows) Shield (Sorcerer, Wizard, Artillerist Artificer, Battle Smith Artificer, Hexblade Warlock) Shield of Faith (Cleric, Paladin) Warding Bond (Cleric, Paladin, Ranger, Battle Smith Artificer) Protection from Energy (Artificer, Cleric, Druid, Ranger, Sorcerer, Wizard, Ancients Paladin, Heroism Paladin, Vengeance Paladin, Noble Genie Warlock) Otiluke’s Resilient Sphere (Wizard) Wall of Force (Wizard, Artillerist Artificer, Redemption Paladin) Globe of Invulnerability (Sorcerer, Wizard) Investiture of Wind (Druid, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard) Invulnerability (Wizard)

Farore’s Wind (Teleportation)

Fey Step (Elf Racial Feat, Eladrin Elf Feature) Misty Step (Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard, Coast Land Druid, Ancients Paladin, Vengeance Paladin) Far Step (Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard) Teleportation Circle (Bard, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard, Arcana Cleric) Arcane Gate (Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard) Word of Recall (Cleric) Teleport (Bard, Sorcerer, Wizard) Gate (Cleric, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard)

Phantom Knight (Summoning)

Guardian of Faith (Cleric, Crown Paladin, Devotion Paladin, Celestial Warlock)

Smash Ultimate (Banishment)

Banishment (Cleric, Paladin, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard)

Triforce of Wisdom

The Triforce imparted by the goddess Nayru carries with it unique abilities including the power to heal, telepathic communication, magical disguises, and protects the bearer from certain conditions. The Triforce also makes whoever holds it wise, better at making decisions, and possibly gives them the divine right to rule Hyrule.

The Right to Rule (Control)

Command (Bard, Cleric, Paladin, Fiend Warlock) Hold Person (Bard, Cleric, Druid, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard, Conquest Paladin, Redemption Paladin, Vengeance Paladin) Zone of Truth (Bard, Cleric, Paladin) Hold Monster (Bard, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard, War Cleric, Redemption Paladin, Watchers Paladin) Forbiddance (Cleric)

Wit Beyond Measure (Foreknowledge)

Detect Evil and Good (Cleric, Paladin) Detect Magic (Artificer, Bard, Cleric, Druid, Paladin, Ranger, Sorcerer, Wizard, Warlock: Eldritch Sight) Identify (Artificer, Bard, Wizard, Knowledge Cleric, Forge Cleric) Detect Thoughts (Bard, Sorcerer, Wizard, Great Old One Warlock) Locate Animals and Plants (Bard, Druid, Ranger) Locate Object (Bard, Cleric, Druid, Paladin, Ranger, Wizard) See Invisible (Artificer, Bard, Sorcerer, Wizard) Locate Creature (Bard, Cleric, Druid, Paladin, Ranger, Wizard) Commune (Cleric, Devotion Paladin, Heroism Paladin) Legend Lore (Bard, Cleric, Wizard, Undying Warlock) Contingency (Wizard) True Seeing (Bard, Cleric, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard) Foresight (Bard, Druid, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard)

Sheik and Tetra (Deception)

Disguise Self (Artificer, Bard, Sorcerer, Wizard, Trickery Cleric, Warlock: Mask of Many Faces)

Mercy of the Gods (Healing)

Spare the Dying (Artificer, Cleric) Cure Wounds (Artificer, Bard, Cleric, Druid, Paladin, Ranger, Celestial Warlock) Healing Word (Bard, Cleric, Druid, Alchemist Artificer) Prayer of Healing (Cleric) Aura of Vitality (Cleric, Druid, Paladin) Life Transference (Cleric, Warlock, Wizard) Mass Healing Word (Bard, Cleric, Alchemist Artificer) Revivify (Artificer, Cleric, Druid, Paladin, Ranger, Celestial Warlock) Aura of Life (Cleric, Paladin) Greater Restoration (Artificer, Bard, Cleric, Druid, Ranger, Celestial Warlock) Mass Cure Wounds (Bard, Cleric, Druid, Battle Smith Artificer) Reincarnate (Druid) Heal (Cleric, Druid) Resurrection (Bard, Cleric) Mass Heal (Cleric) Power Word Heal (Bard, Cleric, Druid) True Resurrection (Cleric, Druid)

Mind over Matter (Communication)

Telepathic (feat) Message (Artificer, Bard, Sorcerer, Wizard) Sending (Bard, Cleric, Wizard, Great Old One Warlock) Rary’s Telepathic Bond (Bard, Wizard) Telepathy (Wizard)

Class

Theurgy Wizard

After evaluating the spell list, with only the Druid exclusive outlier of Reincarnation, every other spell easily falls into either the Cleric or Wizard spell list, meaning that the best option for Zelda’s class is actually a Theurgy Wizard. Last time, I chose the Divine Soul Sorcerer because the Theurgy Wizard never got past the UA stage and isn’t official. However, upon reexamination, I’ve decided that I don’t care. Theurgy Wizard is the best subclass you can choose for Princess Zelda. Sure, you’re still not casting with Wisdom, but now you’re casting with Intelligence, which is much closer than Charisma, and is still a mental stat.

Stats and Proficiencies

In order to be a powerful castor, we’ll want a maxed out Intelligence stat. As a squishy Wizard, our Theurgy will save us somewhat by giving us healing spells, but we still want a maxed out Constitution because dying isn’t very fun. While it might not be maxed out because we don’t need it for casting, we can still put some points into Wisdom for character authenticity, since Zelda is the Wise Queen archetype. Dexterity is helpful in improving our AC, but Shiek is more flexible than Zelda, and Zelda is only that flexible in Ocarina of Time. No other version of her is that trained in ninja tricks. Charisma will make us better at appealing to people, but doesn’t need to be that high, while Strength is utterly unnecessary and can be dumped.

Name: Princess Zelda Race: High Elf Background: Noble Alignment: Lawful Good Class: Light Domain Theurgy Wizard (20) Base Stats: Strength: 8 (-1) Dexterity: 14 (+2) Constitution: 20 (+5) Intelligence: 20 (+5) Wisdom: 14 (+2) Charisma: 10 (0) Saving Throws: Strength: -1 Dexterity: +2 Constitution: +5 Intelligence: +11 Wisdom: +8 Charisma: 0 Combat Stats: HP: 180 AC: 12 Speed: 30 Initiative: +2 Proficiency Bonus: +6 Passive Perception: 18 Dark Vision: 0 feet Proficiencies and Expertise: Insight History Perception Persuasion Religion Skills: Acrobatics: +2 Medicine: +2 Animal Handling: +2 Nature: +5 Arcana: +5 Perception: +8 Athletics: -1 Performance: 0 Deception: 0 Persuasion: +6 History: +11 Religion: +11 Insight: +8 Sleight of Hand: +2 Intimidation: 0 Stealth: +2 Investigation: +5 Survival: +2

Spell Slots

1st (4) 2nd (3) 3rd (3) 4th (3) 5th (3) 6th (2) 7th (2) 8th (1) 9th (1)

Zelda’s Spellbook

C Fire Bolt, Light, Message, Sacred Flame, Spare the Dying, Word of Radiance 1 Burning Hands, Command, Cure Wounds, Detect Magic, Disguise Self, Faerie Fire, Guiding Bolt, Identify, Shield 2 Aganazzar’s Scorcher, Flaming Sphere, Hold Person, Misty Step, Scorching Ray 3 Aura of Vitality, Beacon of Hope, Daylight, Fireball, Protection from Energy, Revivify, Spirit Shroud 4 Aura of Life, Banishment, Divination, Guardian of Faith, Resilient Sphere, Wall of Fire 5 Commune, Dawn, Far Step, Flame Strike, Legend Lore, Mass Cure Wounds, Wall of Light 6 Contingency, Globe of Invulnerability, Heal, Sunbeam, True Seeing 7 Resurrection, Teleport 8 Holy Aura, Sunburst 9 Invulnerability

Actions:

Arcane Recovery. Recover up to 10 level 5 or lower spell slots on a short rest.

Features:

Arcane Acolyte. Gain access to 1st level domain features. Warding Flare. Impose disadvantage on attacking creatures by WIS mod. Arcane Initiate. You can replace Wizard spells with Cleric spells. Arcane High Priest. Gain access to 17th level domain features. Corona of Light. When you emit a bright light, enemies roll throws at disadvantage against Fire and Radiant spells. Arcane Priest. Gain access to 6th level domain features. Improved Flare. Use Warding Flare for another creature within 30 feet of you. Channel Arcana. Select one of the following to envoke Divine Arcana. Your next spell gets +2 on any attack roll or DC. Radiance of the Dawn. Dispel magical darkness and deal radiant damage. Divine Inspiration. Choose a Cleric Domain to study Light Domain Fey Ancestry. Resist charms and immune to magical sleep. Position of Privilege. You are welcome in high society, commoners go out of their way to make your comfortable, and you can get an audience with nobles. Signature Spells. Cast Fireball and Aura of Vitality once per rest without slots. Spell Mastery. Cast Cure Wounds and Misty Step without using spell slots.

Since this is my second time building Zelda, I hope it’s an improvement over the original. It’s still disappointing that she can’t cast with Wisdom, but it simply decimates her spell list to deny Zelda the ability to cast Wizard spells. Hopefully, the ability to cast with Intelligence is at least closer to her Triforce of Wisdom than the original build, which had her casting with Charisma.

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moonstruckbucky · 4 years

Text

The Recruit [prologue]

Summary: Becoming a SHIELD agent had been your dream and finally, you’ve achieved it. You’re at the top of your class in every field except one—hand to hand combat, and it doesn’t impress Captain Rogers in the slightest. Instead, it seems to convince him you’re useless, setting off a tense relationship between the two of you. In an effort to bridge the gap, Bucky offers to help you train to earn your way back into Steve’s good graces. What could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader x Bucky Barnes (not Stucky)

Warnings: Steve’s a bit of an asshole.

Notes: I don’t do taglists so please don’t ask.

Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

It’s barely nine in the morning and Steve already feels a colossal headache brewing in the back of his head. He digs the tips of his fingers into the corners of his eyes in a piss poor attempt to relieve the pressure, sighs audibly through his nose. He’s just hung up with a hologrammed version of Secretary Ross, who hasn’t let him be since he dropped a new protocol packet as thick as the bible on his desk a month ago.

Steve may have been acquitted of all charges following his brief stint as a fugitive after the Sokovia Accords, but Secretary Ross hasn’t been shy about keeping Rogers under his thumb as much as he can.

He doesn’t trust the Captain as far as he can throw him, but proposing policies is about all the power he holds over the centenarian now despite his best efforts to change that. It’s small relief, this knowledge, considering the galaxy-sized migraines he suffers after every meeting, super serum be damned.

He shoves the packet to the end of his desk to be buried under more paperwork, a transparent effort to ignore Ross for as long as he can. His fingers move deftly across his holographic keyboard, a feat he may have punched someone for suggesting he’d master some years previous, and he pulls up the latest mission reports submitted by agents and the other Avengers. He picks apart Sam’s chicken-scratch handwriting on the scanned digital copy, the strain on his eyes only adding to the pulsing behind them.

Paperwork is his least favorite part of Avenging, needless to say, and by the time he’s filed every report from every mission in the past two months—a whopping two hours later thanks to his wandering mind—he’s ready to either hurl or throw something out a window. His head pounds as a terrible reminder when he stands from his desk, lacing his fingers behind his back and arching to relieve the tightness in the muscle.

He’s ready for a snack and a nap to ward off his headache when the circular disk on his desk flashes to life and sends up a hologram of Director Maria Hill. She’d been promoted shortly after the Captain’s acquittal, Fury feeling he’d lost sight of the vision of SHIELD after the death of Alexander Pierce three years prior. Steve had seen it coming, recognized the signs of restlessness and hopelessness in the former director. Fury wasn’t a very open individual, but Steve figured he’d gotten to read him well enough.

“Captain,” Maria greets, her dark hair tied back in its usual pony. A long time ago, Steve had been attracted to her, find similar qualities in her that Peggy had possessed in the 40s. But then he realized that was all it was, a deep ache and longing for something familiar, someone familiar.

“Director,” he replies curtly, a small rise of frustration building in his broad chest. So much for that nap.

“Your newest agent is here.” For a minute his mind blanks, and Maria must see it because then she says, “Agent 13’s replacement?”

Bitterness is sour on his tongue and unwittingly his jaw clenches as he grinds his teeth. Maria’s dark eyebrows pinch together just slightly, and Steve schools his features back into stoic professionalism.

“Of course. I’ll be right there.”

Your heeled foot bounces against the carpet, nervous jitters setting butterflies and nausea loose in your stomach. Your resume is perched on your lap and your fingers tap out a rhythm against the arms of the chair in which you’re seated. A quiet hum in your ears, bottom lip chewed raw by your teeth, eyes unseeing straight ahead at the wall.

You can feel your blouse sticking to your back from the thin layer of sweat, and subtly, you sniff yourself. Just the clean, fresh scent of your deodorant. You sit back and lean your head against the wall behind you, top teeth back to gnawing on your lip until they draw blood. Sweet iron fills your mouth and you jump when the door beside you opens and Director Maria Hill steps out in an all-black pantsuit, hair tied back out of her face.

“Y/N L/N?” she inquires, and you nod. Holding out a long slender arm, “You can come in and have a seat. Captain Rogers will join us shortly.”

You nod, straightening your pencil skirt and blouse, and scoop up your file. Maria’s office is mostly windows; it’s bright, minimalist in terms of decor. A large holographic computer screen hovers in the air over her desk, and as she steps around it she exits out of the hologram. She sits in the chair, offering you the empty one on the other side of the desk, and you oblige.

She begins the interview process, looking over the file you’ve handed her that contains your resumé, extracurriculars from college, and other qualifications you believe make you the perfect fit for this job. You answer the questions she has in thorough detail, your voice steady and confident throughout.

In the middle of a sentence, you’re interrupted by Director Hill’s door opening, and the imposing figure of Captain Steve Rogers fills the doorway. He’s dressed casually—dark pants and a clean, pressed dress shirt that’s rolled to the elbows. On principle, you stand from your chair and Maria follows.

“Captain Rogers,” you begin, extending a hand but stopping short when the Captain looks away and stalks to your file. Awkwardly, you drop your hand back to your side. Maria watches carefully, lets the Captain take the lead.

He picks apart your resumé, drilling you about each and every one of your extracurriculars, your training. You rein in your rising irritation; if he’d been on time, he would have heard all of your qualifications, but he seems to go over them with a fine-tooth comb, looking for any errors, any chink in the armor that you might not actually make it at SHIELD.

“Why should we choose you?” he asks, once he’s run out of things to grill you for. The file slaps down on the table. “What makes you better than these other, more qualified candidates?”

There’s an edge to his voice that makes your spine tingle. He sits rigid in front of you, air of confidence buzzing around him like flies on shit. He’s baiting you, so you take it.

“As you can see from my resume, Captain,” you hiss, hint of venom behind it, “you can see that I am in the top of my class in every field.”

“Almost,” he’s quick to correct sharply, “almost every field - except your fitness exam. Why is your rating Fair?”

Your cheeks burn, both shame and displeasure bubbling deep in your belly. You adjust the hem of your skirt distractedly. Steve’s eyes burn into your crown.

“Old injury during college. I tore my ACL and it didn’t heal perfectly,” you explain. Captain Rogers seems almost bored with your answer, giving a minute shake of his head before he looks back at Maria.

A silent exchange between them, it seems, and then he turns back to you, snaps the folder closed, drops it, and struts out of the office with “we’ll be in touch” tossed over his shoulder. Paired with embarrassment, you’re dejected. Assume his answers means you haven’t been hired, but Maria’s mouth quirks a bit.

“Don’t mind the Captain. He can be...prickly. Overall, your stats look good. I’ll have a word with him but it looks like you’ll be ready to begin your official training come Monday. Welcome to SHIELD.”

Stunned, jaw ajar, a stiff handshake - a reaction you’ll probably laugh over drinks about in the future, but for now, it’s all you can do to gawk like a guppy.

Chapter One

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve x you #steve x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #steve rogers angst #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #steve rogers fluff

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sirloozelite · 3 years

Text

A Review of SWTOR

So, not too long ago, a pair of friends (frenemies more like) of mine were playing SWTOR... and suffice to say they would not shut up about it. I’d always been aware of the game in the back of my mind, but it had never really appealed to me. MMO’s don’t really, as I would always be worried about random players sticking their nose in whilst I was trying to keep to myself.

Still, my friends would not shut up about it, and they kept recommending it to me, despite my internal aversion to it. Now, considering that they had both foolishly taken my advice on games to play in the past, I decided to return the favour and give SWTOR a chance.

And boy was I glad I did. Is SWTOR a good game? Yes... and no... and yes. It’s not perfect, it’s got problems, but it’s still a lot of fun, and I’m glad I’ve done at least one playthrough of the game.

Upon loading up I of course had to choose what storyline I wanted to follow. Since both of my buddies had gone Jedi Knight, (though I’d argue that a certain someone made their Jedi about as deplorable as Anakin) I decided to be the awkward one and went Sith Inquisitor instead, and honestly... I think I chose perfectly!

Oh and... for those interested... here is my Inquisitor:

His name is the Sixteenth Brother! What’s his backstory? Well... that depends on who you ask! Some say he’s the 16th sibling of a Zabrak family... others say he chose the name to hide his true one. Some even say he’s a time traveller from a distant future sent back in time after accidentally finding a Sith relic in his time. Whatever the truth is matters little. All that matters is that he was great fun to play as.

Oh and for the record, this review is based on a Free To Play experience and completion of the class storyline only. I’ve not touched the expansions yet, but intend to at some point. Any criticisms I have that are solved by subscribing are a moot point. Furthermore, it goes without saying but all of the below is my own opinions of the game. Doesn’t make them right or wrong.

The Good

There are many good things about SWTOR, almost too many to name. That said, there are some things I’d like to highlight.

The Story

The first and foremost best thing about the game is of course, the story. Being a Bioware written game created at the same time as the Mass Effect trilogy, I expected a good story... and I was not disappointed by the tale of the Sith Inquisitor. It was the standard tale of a protagonist coming from lowly origins, in this case a slave, and advancing up the ladder of society. Nothing too revolutionary, but add in the Sith and the Empire and it was made all the more better. Frequently, poor 16th Bro would get hounded for being an alien, and each and every time he’d beat the odds, and then usually show mercy to those who had insulted him. (I played him mostly light side... though there were a few times I surrendered to the dark and zapped people)

The world building within the story was also top notch. Plenty of detail is hidden away in the codex, much like Mass Effect, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t stuff in the actual gameplay and story as well. I’d never really been a legends fan, and whilst I’m still not, I do see why a lot of people love these sorts of stories. I was invested, and that’s what mattered.

Outside of the Sith Inquisitor, the very fact that there are seven other unique storylines and classes to play, as well as heavy character customization and role play more than make the game worthy of revisiting. There is a little bit of something for everyone it seems.

The Characters

Another great strength of Bioware games is usually it’s characters, especially the protagonists companions. I can happily report that, at least for the Sith Inquisitor, the vast majority of the characters in the story were great.

The three standout characters outside of the Inquisitor to me were Khem Val, Ashara Zavros and Talos Drellik.

That’s not to say that Andronikos, Xalek, Zash and Thanaton weren’t good characters either, I just didn’t enjoy them as much as Khem, Ashara and Talos.

Each character felt like they had their own arc. Khem Val growing to accept you as a Master and true successor to Tulak Hord was great, even if he and 16th Bro were constantly disagreeing about 16th’s methods. Despite his dislike of the decisions, I still sided with him when the time came to choose who got to control his body for good.

Ashara going from “I’m a Jedi and I won’t go against my teachings!” to “Peace is a lie!” was good development as well. I understand that some people don’t like this character much, but she was my go to companion most of the time. She’s not quite a Sith, but not quite a Jedi either, and that made for a perfect companion for the 16th Brother, as he was hardly a model Sith either.

As for Talos... well... he’s an archaeologist and a historian... and I’ve got a degree in history... so of course I was going to love him! Plus he was eccentric as all hell and added a nice voice of humour to the crew. His personal story about him trying to find his old mentor and carry on his legacy was heartfelt too.

As for everyone else, I was invested in their characters, don’t get me wrong, just not as much as the others. Both Zash and Thanaton were good villains that I took pleasure in ending, and Andronikos and Xalek got their fair amount of use on the field and in the ship. Everyone was friends at the end after all.

The Voice Acting

The other good point I’d like to highlight is the voice acting, particularly that of the male Sith Inquisitor. I’ve heard people say the female voice is better, but for my experience the male Inquisitor was the perfect match of sass and sarcasm. It made every scene with him in enjoyable to watch. RPG games were a single protagonist can get a bit boring sometimes. Commander Shepard suffers from this in Mass Effect at times. I never got that feeling with the Inquisitor though. He was hilarious from the second he stepped off the shuttle on Korriban and sassed Overseer Harkun (who I totally zapped to death) to the moment he took his seat on the dark council with a surprised Pikachu look on his face.

So yeah... super credit to Euan Morton for making the Inquisitor the dark master of sass and sarcasm!

Outside of the Inquisitor, I can say that all the other VA’s did a great job too. I can’t think of any character that had particularly bad voice acting off the top of my head.

Other Good Stuff

Outside of the three things I mentioned, SWTOR also has plenty of content to offer for everyone. If you want to do main missions, sure! Side quests? Sure! Space combat missions? Yep! Whatever you fancy, it’s there. There is no shortage of content to enjoy for hours on end, even as a Free To Play player like I was.

The Bad

And now to most likely upset some people... sorry about that, but no game is perfect, and SWTOR has some flaws that could put people off playing it. This stuff is by no means a game breaking deal for me, but it did annoy me and I felt like it needed addressing.

The Game is Tedious

My biggest complaint is that at times, usually after an hour of playing, the game can become tedious and boring to play! There were times it felt like a chore honestly, and I hate saying that because SWTOR is a good game.

The main reason for it feeling so tedious though comes down to how you move around the maps. When you can, fast travel is your best friend and can save a lot of time, however, not everywhere has a fast travel point near it.

This is where speeders come into play. You can buy one for a reasonable amount of credits, and they are faster than walking for sure, but not by much.

The problem with the speeders is that it is so easy to get shot off of one by one of the random enemies you are trying to drive past (and believe me there are hundreds of them!) that is becomes aggravating to move around the map from objective to objective. Avoiding enemies isn’t hard for sure, but sometimes you have to go right past them, and after hours of fighting enemies it can get a bit tedious being shot off your speeder in one shot just because you didn’t want to waste time fighting an enemy. Once you hit your level cap, fighting random enemies is pointless after all.

Maybe that’s just me though. I’d personally make the speeders a bit more durable. One tiny shot shouldn’t disable your speeder. Heavy fire... sure! Doesn’t help that sometimes you can tank a bunch of shots on your speeder and escape without being knocked off, but then on another occasion you’ll be knocked off by a sneeze.

Either way, movement around the maps can get annoying as all hell, but at least the scenery is pretty.

The Planets

Now don’t get me wrong, I like all the planets I went to... mostly... and my issue isn’t with the planets in general.

It’s with how bloody long it takes to complete them all.

The Story Arc quest lines for each planet can take forever sometimes and they end up going on a bit too long if you ask me. Alderaan and Hoth are the two that come to my mind the most. It felt like I spent weeks on those planets driving back and forth between areas to do simple tasks for little reward. Plus the sheer number of side quests didn’t help. I stopped doing everything that wasn’t a story or Arc quest once I hit Hoth!

Don’t get me wrong, I like side quests for sure... I just don’t like them to drag on forever! In a lot of ways, SWTOR reminds me of Mass Effect Andromeda. That game too also had side quests that went on forever.

My one piece of advice to nay new players for SWTOR would be to ignore the side quests and focus solely on your class story quests and planet Arc quests instead. If you try and do everything, you’ll burn yourself out quickly. Unless you are a completionist of course. In that case go nuts! XD

Other Bad Stuff

Aside from my two big gripes above, which are honestly minor in reality, the only other issues I really have with the game are the boring side objectives in some missions. Nine times out of ten they equate to ‘kill a bunch of dudes’. They are easy enough to complete, as you’ll be killing things anyways, so you don’t really need to put any real thought into completing most of them. They just feel tacked on and rather pointless honestly.

The Ugly

And now the ugly stuff. This is stuff that is between good and bad. Bad as in they annoyed me, but good as in I understand why others like them or they improved over time.

The User Interface

Oh god the UI! When I first started the game it was so overwhelming! Pop-ups everywhere! Hundreds of tabs and side bars and tutorial boxes being spammed my way. It was not friendly to a new player who had literally just jumped in. If I hadn’t played games like Civ or XCOM in the past I might not have been able to cope with how much stuff was going on at once.

Luckily, after a few hours of play, I began to understand the UI a bit more and became comfortable with it. I knew what was where and what did what, as well as what I didn’t need. (any PvP stuff for example) Plus the ability to edit the interface to your own liking helped a lot as well, so it wasn’t a complete lost cause, just overwhelming at first.

Flashpoints and Heroic Missions

So, these missions are designed to be played with other players online, clearly. They can be done solo, but they take forever to do so. Endless hordes of high HP enemies, including even higher HP boss fights is not that entertaining to me, and thus very quickly became boring to me. Artificial difficulty in a way. Plus if you do die, it ain’t half a pain in the ass to get back to where you were, only to find that boss that had 5% health left when it killed you is now back to 100%.

I gave up doing these sorts of missions and have no intention of returning to them unfortunately, which is a shame as some of the flashpoints have actual important story content in them.

Still, if unlike me you actually have friends to help you with these, then I get why you like them, and more power to you. I just don’t enjoy them much.

The Soundtrack

And now to really upset some people. Look... I like John Williams music scores as much as the rest of the fandom does. That said, there were places in SWTOR where it showed up and really really did not work! It almost felt like the game was just spamming random iconic tracks that sort of fit the scene, but really didn’t.

The biggest one for me that didn’t work was the final duel against Darth Thanaton in the Dark Council Chambers. During the cutscene between the two fighting, the music started on ‘The Final Duel’ from ROTJ when they were fighting, and they suddenly it shifted to the theme from Padmés funeral when Thanaton was overpowered! I mean, I get what they were going for with the music, but the sudden shift between tracks was unceremonious and didn’t work. If they were going to use licensed movie music then they should have just chosen one track and stuck with it rather than jumping between two!

Furthermore, to me those themes were written for specific scenes in their respective movies, and thus were created to fit those scenes, not random SWTOR scenes. If anything, the entire scene should have had it’s own score written for it rather than just reuse movie tracks instead!

That said, whenever the game does use original music that isn’t from the movies, it’s fine! The ambient background for the planets is great, Alderaan’s especially, and I hated that planet! They clearly had the talent of music directors to write Star Wars sounding music, so I don’t fully get why they didn’t just go with original music all the way rather than just reuse John Williams music instead. I don’t know if they didn’t have enough money or something. If that was the case then I’d understand.

So yeah, the music is a 50/50 for me. The original music is great. The movie music is still great, it’s just not used right.

Other Ugly Stuff

WASD controls. They aren’t game breaking, but I’m not a great fan of them. They make my wrist hurt. I adapted, like I did with the UI, so it’s not really a big issue, but I know it could put one or two people off playing it.

Another minor gripe is a consequence of the game being an RPG within an MMO. Other players are running around, often doing the same objectives as you. They can steal your objectives before you, forcing you to wait around for them to respawn so you can do them yourselves. Luckily there is usually other stuff to do in the meantime, and the re-spawn timer is smallish, so it’s not a huge problem. Just an unfortunate consequence.

Conclusion

So... would I recommend playing SWTOR to people? Yes! I would. It’s a good game, even with it’s flaws. I had a lot of fun running through the Sith Inquisitor’s storyline, and I learnt a lot about the game for any future playthroughs I do. I know what to expect now and what to stay away from, so hopefully whatever class I choose to do next will be full of less annoying little things.

That said, considering how long it took me to do the Inquisitor’s story, I feel like I’m gonna need a serious break before I can play another class. I was almost burnt out when I finished the Inquisitor, and I’ve still got the two free expansions to go!

So yeah... all in all, SWTOR is a good game,. I’d recommend it, and I’m glad I gave it a fair chance. It’s not in my top 10, but it’s one to return to. :)

So, if you’ve ever thought about trying out SWTOR before but were apprehensive about it, then I’d encourage you to give it a shot. It is free after all! Unless you subscribe. But you can at least try it for free! Bonus I say! XD

#swtor

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friendocheaven · 3 years

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Picnic Ask

Ask and ye shall recieve @theaxolotleastofthesun it’s long af tho, so it’s under the cut.

1. Where and When is the picnic happening? (Gonna take this as ideal location and season basically)

a. Milo: Prefers someplace a bit south—warmer than the northern parts of the Eye. Summer in Sun Elf territory would be nice. Not south enough to get jungle-y and humid (Glim can take heat, but draws the line at humidity), but someplace he could retreat to the blessed relief offered by the shade of a scrubby tree and have a good excuse to eat his favorite spicy foods and sweat to cool down.

b. Glim: as stated above, he doesn’t do well in high humidity. Also not the biggest fan of excessive heat, but will put up with it for Milo’s sake. Were it up to him though, he would prefer an autumn picnic in a cozy shady glen under a still-full canopy of rich reds and violets and sunny yellows. A sigh of crisp wind carrying with it the first hint of winter.

c. Remmi: Love’s spring, especially when it’s still early. They love the way the fruit trees look while still flowering and the cool, but warming, breeze. They would most enjoy something near water, but with plush green grass still under foot. The Northern Reservoir is well tended, with bright, blossoming bushes hedging cobbled pathways. The surrounding park stretches most of the way ‘round. Remmi would most like a quiet day at the eastern edge—farthest away from the great roaring falls that lead into the canyon. Bonus if there are frogs.

d. Hani: Loves the dead heat of summer; the feel of warm sun on his skin. A midsummer, late afternoon picnic after a day of splashing around the Southern Sea would be heaven. Sure, the food might get a little sandy, but it wouldn’t stop him from eating and enjoying every second.

2. What food and drinks do your OCs bring? (you fool! You’re enabling me to indulge my fascination with food culture!)

a. Milo: Goes all out on the spice—picnic with him at your own peril. He packs extra-hot kimchi, seasoned roasted garlic cloves, Zevi’s falafel recipe, and a few other side dishes that reflect his upbringing by a Southern Dwarf familiar with Halfling food culture. He also gets pretty excited with drinks, bringing three; an iced ginger tea made with turmeric and black pepper, buttercup and honey hwachae (most non-halflings just call it wine even though it’s usually not alcoholic) because he’s (not so) secretly pretty sappy and sentimental, and Baekse-ju to finish off with a good pair for spicy food and just a touch of alcohol.

b. Glim: Settles for light, seasonal snack foods. He brings a bunch of fresh cut in-season fruit like apples (that yes, he does cut the skins to look like bunnies like his mother used to), a couple loaves of bara brith made with ground dried fruits and nuts served with butter, and a whole basket of pic ar y maen (cookies with raisins and currants mixed in). He brings spiced virgin cider and a fine local white wine to wash it down.

c. Remmi: As a professional baker, they refused to bring anything but their best to their picnic. They pick finger-food pastries—the best from their eclectic cooking experience and travels. Beignets topped with honey and powdered sugar—in a basket enchanted to keep them fresh and hot and crisp because they take pride in their work. An impressive assortment of petit fors lined up and packed tightly in another container. Muffuletta finger sandwiches with toothpicks holding them together for the more savory inclined guests. And finally some cranberry pastila which they hadn’t made in years and was their way of flexing their baker’s muscles. They pack a thermos of milk tea and an iced chocolate drink.

d. Hani: not a big cook. He was hoping Senya would do most of the cooking. It’s not like he’s particularly picky about what he ingests. To be polite though, he brings a crock of bamia—a stew with lamb, okra, tomatoes, and onion—that his mother would make on special occasions. He also brings an impressive array of drinks; sugar cane juice, carob juice, tamarind juice, and iced coffee.

3. What are your OC’s wearing to the picnic?

a. Milo: Largely his usual sort of outfit. A sleeveless turtleneck, cargo capris, and combat boots. He does add a lightweight cotton shawl embroidered with geese in shades of red that he got as a wedding gift from Lian. He wears it to avoid sunburn, but once in the shade and eating, he carefully folds it and sets it aside so it doesn’t get dirty.

b. Glim: A cream colored tunic and brown tasseled cardigan over dark blue leggings, simple but sleek black ankle boots, and finished off with a simple sapphire teardrop pendant on a gold chain.

c. Remmi: they opt for something simple and comfortable, but fitting for the season. They wear a yellow wide-band tank top under an oversized baby pink cable knit sweater. The sweater is so big it slouches off one shoulder, reaches their knees, and the sleeves hide their hands if they aren’t scrunched up at the elbow. They pair that with slim, washed out jeans, and a pair of tan slouchy boots. As one final touch, they don cherry blossom studs in their ears.

d. Hani: he goes for something sporty and comfy. A loose and flowy off-white sleeveless crop top over a pair of baggy gray-blue shorts held round his hips by a broad and colorful sash and a pair of greek sandals that he discards almost immediately. To add a touch of class—after all this is a fun outing so why not—he wears golden arm bands just above each bicep. Those stay on longer, but they, too, eventually get unceremoniously dumped into the picnic basket in favor of total comfort.

4. Which OC brings a musical instrument to idly play?

a. Surprisingly enough, Hani. Remmi knows a little piano and harp, but those aren’t exactly available at a picnic. Milo has never learned an instrument (though he finds guitar interesting). And Glim tried playing, but sucked at just about everything; and anything he could play he couldn’t play in front of others. Hani, on the other hand, randomly knows how to play—and is good at—the oud (which is like an Arab lute). And yes, he does attempt to play Wonderwall on it.

5. How quickly does your OC realize there are ants trying to sneak into their food? What do they do about it?

a. Milo: He’s very perceptive, so it doesn’t take long for him to notice. He proceeds to squish them then mix them into his food for “extra protein” without hesitation. Despite knowing that Milo was raised eating bugs and still does fairly regularly, everyone still looks at him like he’s gone insane.

b. Glim: He picks up on it when someone else points it out. It’s only then that he realizes that he forgot to activate the insect repellent rune. He curses under his breath and apologizes before quickly moving the picnic supplies a few meters away and activating it then.

c. Remmi: They spend the whole picnic low-key looking out for this. Whenever bugs start walking toward or flying around their precious gourmet picnic, they nonchalantly close all the containers up tight then swat them all away without breaking the conversation.

d. Hani: he doesn’t notice until one of the ants bites his tongue as he’s eating. He spits that one out because it was mean, but all subsequent ones he eats. And unlike Milo, Hani doesn’t mix them into anything, he just pops them into his mouth.

6. Which OC hides under the shade at first before being convinced to come out into the sun? How do they react?

a. Glim hates the heat. If you can manage to convince him to leave the tranquility of shade, he will be a drama queen about it. Really laying it on thick and moaning about how “the sun is a white hot laser” against his “poor fragile flesh” and that if he continues on he will surely “burn up, dry out, and die!” and other such dramatic nonsense. He gets weirdly poetic when he’s frustrated or cranky. Needless to say, Milo has ceased pushing the issue.

7. Imagine your OCs spending their time picking nearby wildflowers and watching the butterflies and bees at work.

a. Milo foregoes this particular activity, choosing this time instead to just take in the scenery. He’s scared he might upset a hive or get stung or bitten by something so he’d rather just sit back and soak up the atmosphere.

b. Glim is carefully rooting around for four leaf clovers under a subdued parasol.

c. Remmi carefully plucks and cuts an armful of flowers and stems so they can make colorful flower crowns for everyone.

d. Hani chases the bugs and small animals, not unlike a dog would. But he’s having fun so it’s fine.

8. Which OC foregoes a picnic blanket and sits directly on the ground? Are they concerned by the grass stains on their clothes afterwards?

a. Hani doesn’t care where he plants his butt and cares almost as little about stains.

9. Which OC brings a chair because they can’t stand the thought of sitting on the ground?

a. Remmi, but a lot of it is because they don’t want to risk getting their clothes too dirty and also because the ground is never as soft and even as you think or hope. So sitting on the ground, even on a blanket, hurts their butt.

10. Imagine your OCs falling asleep after eating their food, content and happy.

a. Milo is one of the first to nod off and lays down in the shade. He kicks his shoes off and lets the sun warm his feet while the shade keeps his face cool. He wakes up to groggily help pack everything back up.

b. Glim doesn’t actually fall asleep. He just sort of zones out while playing with Milo’s hair and enjoying the breeze.

c. After loading up on carbs, Remmi dozes off in their chair and wake up with a tender sunburn spread across their nose and cheeks. They vow to never fall asleep in the sun like that again, but they make the same mistake next time.

d. Hanni has seemingly boundless energy throughout the day, which is a bit unusual for him as he often naps a lot when the sun is out, but is wired by the time the moon replaces it. As soon as they’ve packed everything up and are headed home, though, the excitement wears off and he crashes hard. He’s asleep the whole way back.

#I got like.... reeeeally into this #it took two sessions at my computer #lol

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todisturbtheuniverse · 3 years

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FIC: Set All Trappings Aside [7/9]

Rating: T Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Pairing: f!Adaar/Josephine Montilyet Tags: Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Class Differences Word Count: 2200 (this chapter) Summary: After months of flirtation, a contract on Josephine’s life brings Adaar’s feelings for her closer to the surface than ever. It highlights, too, all of their differences, all of the reasons a relationship between them would not last. But Adaar is a hopeful woman at heart; if Josephine can set all trappings aside, then so can she. Also on AO3. Notes: While the context for this story is the Of Somewhat Fallen Fortune questline, some of the conversations within it didn’t quite fit for this Inquisitor. The resulting fic is a twist on the canon romance. This Adaar and Josephine have featured in other fics, so you may miss a little context if you haven’t read Promising or Truth-Telling, which both come before this one. Chapter-specific note: I did not intend to leave this hanging for six months, but 2020 comes for us all, I suppose. I hope, if you're still reading, that you enjoy the conclusion. All of the remaining chapters (7-9) are up on AO3; they’ll be posted more slowly here on tumblr so as not to clog your dashboards.

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

"See," Adaar said, pointing, "we’re nearly there."

She leaned a little to the left in her saddle, closer to Josephine, giving her a better trajectory to follow. Josephine's eyes narrowed, searching. At this distance, the landmark was still hard to make out if you didn’t know what you were looking for.

"Strange," Josephine said. "That star appears to be moving."

"Dancing," Adaar corrected. "The old windmill is still lit. There must be someone left." At Josephine's perplexed look, she explained, "The windmill’s practically center of town. Someone got the idea way back when to keep a brazier lit at the top. Like a lighthouse, kind of. Instead of bringing ships in to port, it guided the farmers and herders into town at the end of the day. When you’re closer in, it’s a good way for the neighborhood watch to mark where they’re patrolling overnight, too. From far off, though, it just looks like a dancing star."

Josephine nodded. "Clever. And if it’s still lit…"

"I can’t see bandits bothering to tend it, can you?"

"That depends on the breed of bandit." Josephine’s mare whickered, and she patted its mane absently. "I think this tells us something about what might be happening in Duskfield. Either your old neighbors have already driven the bandits off, and things have returned to normal...or the bandits have taken up residence here, kept all the old habits in place, so that your farmers and shepherds might keep operating. If that’s the case, they’re after some kind of long-term stability and supply."

"And that could be good or bad," Adaar agreed. "Maybe they’re just folk driven to desperation by the current unpleasantness."

"Or maybe they are Red Templars, establishing new routes through the Free Marches while we have been busy elsewhere." Josephine glanced sidelong at Adaar. "Rest assured I do not plan to negotiate with them, should that be the case."

Adaar forced a thin laugh. "I expected as much." She looked ahead again, at the Dancing Star, trying to find something red in the flicker of its light. It was still too far to tell; it looked perfectly normal, just as she remembered it, yellowish in hue.

And if she did see a bit of red? More easily attributed to her imagination, fear, and anxiety. At this distance, it could be nothing else.

"If it’s an entire band," Josephine said, her voice lowering, "will you be able to manage on your own?"

Adaar glanced behind her, at Cassandra and Bull and Dorian, all riding quiet and alert. "We’ve managed an awful lot," she said. "And we could still run into Leliana’s people. There's some road left to go. If we don’t find them, I’ll sneak ahead to see what we’re working with before we go charging in."

"Is that wise? If you’re caught—"

"Would you rather send one of them?" Adaar asked, jerking her thumb at the others.

"I heard that," Bull said.

Adaar ignored him. "Cassandra makes a noise of incredible menace with every step she takes. Bull's worse, like a small earthquake. And Dorian can’t keep his mouth shut if there’s an opening for a witty quip."

"She’s right," Dorian said easily. "Adaar is the sneakiest giant you’ll ever meet. And that rates somewhat above the rest of us."

Josephine didn't look convinced. Worse, she looked afraid. Adaar tipped her head, silently asking Josephine to follow her ahead, out of earshot. The others kept to their own pace, allowing the road to spread out between them.

"Not reassured?" Adaar asked.

"I don’t doubt your skills. I just…" Josephine's fingers tightened on the reins. "If you’re caught, what then?"

"We’ll figure out the exact timeframe when we get closer, but if I’m not back in, say, an hour, the others can ride to the rescue."

"Has that ever happened before?"

Adaar figured it was best to be honest, but casual. "Sure."

Josephine’s lips thinned; she didn’t reply. Someone else in Adaar’s boots might’ve seen this as a good opportunity for comeuppance. They’d taken care of Josephine’s assassins her way, and Adaar had lost a month’s worth of sleep in the process. Josephine would get a little taste of her own medicine.

But Adaar had never been accused of vengefulness. The idea of Josephine fretting down the road behind her only made her feel vaguely queasy and sad.

"Don’t get caught," Josephine said at last.

Adaar inclined her head. "I’ll do my level best."

"You have to remember that they chose Duskfield," Josephine went on. "Maybe it’s random, maybe they are just desperate people, but it seems an awful coincidence. If anyone bothered to learn enough about you, to try to lure you out, this is how they would do it."

"If it’s a trap, I have a light step. I won’t spring it."

Josephine gave a despairing laugh. "If there’s an opening for a witty quip, are you certain that you will be able to restrain yourself?"

"In all things that matter, I am the picture of restraint."

She'd meant to sound cheerful; instead, the words were a little sour, and she turned her face away before her expression could add to the unintended effect. She didn't want to give Josephine another opening to make her case, not yet. Despite her words, her restraint had been wearing very thin indeed since their conversation on the road to Val Royeaux. One good snip would destroy those last tenuous threads.

But Josephine did not sound disappointed or angry when she replied, simply, "I know."

For a moment, Adaar thought she would leave it at that. They rode in the quiet, to the soft sounds of horses, for plenty of hoofbeats.

Then Josephine asked, "I've been wondering, how long have you...cared...about me?"

Adaar didn't have to answer. The question was put forward tentatively, feeling for where the boundary line was. Josephine would have understood if Adaar reminded her of her promise, the promise of space to think.

But thinking, so far, had gotten her nowhere. She kept chasing it round and round in her head, ever since that night on the road to Val Royeaux. She slept with her head pillowed on the shawl Josephine had left with her, and breathed her scent, and could not stop wanting, no matter how much she wished to. Maybe a little talk wouldn't hurt.

"Too long," she said. "Embarrassingly long. Well before we left Haven."

She looked back to Josephine, who smiled and ducked her head, as if to hide it. "Me, too."

The words struck Adaar like a slap, rendering her speechless. She hunted for what to say, how to react, and came up with nothing more original than, "Really?"

"You sound surprised." There was a teasing note in Josephine's voice now.

"Well, you just didn't…" Adaar floundered. "I don't know. You didn't seem interested."

"Leliana has said that I was being dense," Josephine admitted, with as much dignity as could be mustered with such a sentence. "I only thought that...your attention was split so many ways. You had—have—a great deal to worry about. I didn't think there would be time. And if there was, I didn't see why you would choose to spend it with me."

Adaar shook her head, exasperated. "We’re a pair, aren’t we?"

"I certainly hope so," Josephine said archly, but her smile faded again as she looked ahead to the Dancing Star. "When this is over, can we revisit the issue of restraint?"

"Lady Montilyet," Adaar said, all feigned astonishment, "I had no idea your desires ran that way."

It had the intended effect. Josephine lost her worry again, face flushing, hand coming up to cover a surprised laugh. Adaar grinned, reveling in her small victory. It would help, for what was to come. It would carry her through to the other side.

"Don't worry," she added, squinting at the Dancing Star. "I have a plan."

The good news: they weren't Red Templars.

Adaar had been gone from home so long that there were people in the village she didn't recognize or know, but she'd gotten good at distinguishing peasant from combatant; she observed carefully from her rooftop perch by The Wet Whistle's chimney stack, and she counted. It wasn't just about who wore armor, who carried weapons. It was body language, alertness. It was the berth that others gave them.

She'd arrived too late to count the bandits as they went into the tavern, but she counted them as they came out—and as a patrol cut through town and continued to the north. These ones carried obvious weapons, and they didn't sway when they walked. They were professional enough to keep their heads clear on duty.

Duskfield was a small village, and this company was enough to keep them cowed. She'd counted eight so far; she was sure there were more she was missing. She just wasn't sure what to do about them.

The bad news: she knew some of them.

Only three, that she'd spotted and recognized. Old neighbors, around her age: Vilya, the blacksmith's daughter; Cossus, her younger brother; Herbert, one of the farmer's sons. He'd been friends with the other two, she remembered.

The others were strangers to her, but they held themselves with more confidence than these three by far. Had they been recruited? What had convinced them to allow these mercenaries to occupy the town, to throw their lot in with them?

She didn't have time in the hour allocated to her to figure out why they were here. She only knew she didn't like the occasional raucous laughter spilling from the tavern below her, or the way the rest of her old neighbors flinched out of the way when one of the rogues stalked past. They were not starving and desperate. They were hungry, but they were waiting.

And there was no sign of Leliana's people. They were on their own.

It was time to return to her companions. She'd learned what she could, precious little though it was, and maybe they would have better ideas. Josephine had spun gold out of less before. Delicately, silently, she crept down the roof and lowered herself to the ground.

Her feet had barely touched down before the point of a sword pricked at her spine. "Not so fast, Inquisitor."

She considered her options. Two shapes in the shadows of the barrels ahead of her formed up and revealed themselves to be people. They, too, held swords, so that was three—at minimum. She'd won out over worse odds before.

But she'd missed these three watching her. What else had she missed? She didn't want to get chin-deep in a fight where she didn't know the stakes. Maybe they needed her alive, but maybe they were happy to dogpile and kill her.

She didn't know enough. Damn it.

"A welcoming party," she said. "Nice of you. I wasn't expecting such a fuss—"

The point of the sword jabbed harder. She sighed and stopped talking.

"I can't believe you actually showed," the voice behind her said. "When Moiraine pitched this idea to me, I almost punched her. 'Moiraine,' I said, 'she's Qunari, what does she care about a bunch of human cattle in some nowhere village?' But tales kept spreading about you—how you'd stick your neck out for any refugee needing a blanket, even if they'd spit on the ground as you walked past." He spit on her boot, for emphasis. Nice aim. "Started to see the potential. Still, though. Didn't expect you to be stupid enough to take the bait."

He lapsed into silence. Adaar waited a moment, then said, "Just let me know when you actually need my input. Hard to tell if there was a question in there. I'm kind of slow, as you've figured out."

"Watch her," the voice said, and yanked her hands around to bind them behind her back. She resisted the urge to fight, mind working frantically. Did she know a Moiraine-the-bandit? No, she was fairly sure she didn't. Did she know any Moiraine? She didn't think she'd ever heard the name before.

"Now," he said, yanking her daggers roughly from her back, "we're going to get comfortable and wait for your friends to come along. Then we'll have a nice little chat, and everyone can go home happy."

"My favorite part of the day," Adaar muttered.

Well, technically, at least, this was still part of the plan. Things had just accelerated somewhat. She was sure the others could work out the rest.

She'd been captured before, bound before. She stayed alert, but let her mind turn to more pleasant things. In similar situations, she'd thought of Josephine. She'd thought, Well, we didn't have much of a chance, anyway. She'd thought, Maybe, if we'd had more time…

This time, though, she thought of Josephine's stately walk, of the fire burning in her eyes, of her sharp and clever tongue. She thought of Josephine riding to her rescue, and she smiled.

#josephine montilyet #inquisitor adaar #f!adaar x josephine #f!adaar/josephine #dragon age #inquisition #friends to lovers #class differences #mutual pining #developing relationship #universe writes

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