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cap-winter-barnes · 4 years

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My Hero - Campbell Eliot x Reader

Requested by @angeltop129 - I am so sorry for how long this has taken. I hope this is okay. If you would like a Part 2 please let me know.

Warnings: guns, violence (that’s about it I think)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

West Ham was a town that once upon a time, I would have described as charming and peaceful. But New Ham? New Ham is what I would call chaotic.

I wish every day that this is just a dream, and that when I wake, everything will be back to the way it was before. But it has been forty-six days since we returned on those school buses. Forty-six days with no idea how or why this has happened to us.

When Cassandra suggested some of us take inventory at the grocery store, I jumped at the chance. Anything to get me off of the streets and away from my home. Being an only child already, I physically cannot stand to be in that house alone.

Kelly and Will have been inseparable since we started the job. Not once have they tried involving me in any of their conversations. I can practically hear every word either way, but it would be nice to at least be involved.

But then again, that’s how my life has always been. I am acknowledged and that’s that. No conversations. No interest. No friends.

Looking at my watch, I realise how long I have gone with nothing to eat. I reach across for my rucksack that is propped against the display of tinned tuna. As my fingers graze the left shoulder strap, I am startled by a loud smash from the entrance of the store. Leaving the bag where it is, I stand and peer out of the aisle. I’m honestly not surprised to see some of the local idiots causing trouble. I find it funny how I can’t place a name to their faces except for one. Campbell.

He for once is not directly involved with the disruption, but is standing outside of the store, watching on. But why does he look nervous? Something doesn’t seem right though. And that’s when I notice the group inside the store are all armed.

Being someone who is against conflict of any sort, I quickly back away from the aisle end. But as I reach for my bag, I trip over my own feet and come crashing down into the shelving.

Tins upon tins of food come crashing down with me to the tiled floor. The noise is deafening as they all come tumbling down. It seems endless. A few of the larger products don’t miss me on their descent to the ground. My head throbs with blinding pain. I raise my hands above my head to soften the blow of those that continue to fall, the pain is horrendous. The metal digs into my palms, bending my fingers unnaturally backwards. It’s no wonder that I don’t hear the sounds of the group approaching me, guns aimed in my direction.

My vision is blurred, and my ears are ringing as I try and focus. Through the incessant sound of the ringing, I can tell that there are people shouting. But I can’t quite make out who. I place my hands on the floor to steady myself, and I try and push up from the ground.

“Hey, hey, hey.” A voice cuts clearly through the ringing in my ears. “No. You need to stay where you are.” I recognise the voice, but my brain is still fuzzy from the impact of the tinned goods. “Y/N. Hey.” Campbell. That’s Campbell’s voice.

With help, I lower myself back down to the floor, my back propped up against what is left of the shelving. My vision is slowly coming back to me and I can make out the group of guys standing around where I had last seen them. But this time they look concerned.

I turn to look at Campbell as he carefully kicks the tins out of the way, the sound hurts my head. He then kneels down in front of me, resting his forearms on his knees as he looks at me.

“How are you feeling?” I frown at him and reach up to my head with my fingers. He quickly takes my hand and brings it back down to my body. “You’re bleeding,” he grimaces as he says it, “you don’t need to see it.” I minutely nod my head in understanding. So that’s why I feel like my skull has been cracked open. He takes of his plaid overshirt and gently wraps it around my head as a makeshift bandage.

“I’ll sort you a proper one soon, okay?” He reassures me as he makes sure that the shirt is secure.

I smile in thanks and close my eyes, trying to block out the bright fluorescent lights of the store. “Hey, no. You have to keep your eyes open.”

“The lights are too fucking bright.” My voice is laced with fatigue and annoyance. He chuckles and reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, revealing a pair of dark plastic sunglasses. He opens them up and places them on my face, pushing a strand of loose hair behind my ear as he does so.

“Better?” I smile and nod at him, the relief from the brightness takes some of the aching in my head away. Campbell returns the smile and then takes a seat next to me, his shoulder knocking against mine as he does so.

“Hey, Eliot! We done here?” A voice cuts through the silence, it feels like a blade is pressing against my head as he says it. I wince at the sensation and Campbell notices. His expression is no longer caring and kind, but now filled with annoyance. Standing, he makes his way towards the group that have made their way to us.

“No, we’re not done here.” As Campbell walks towards them, I watch on with worry. I remember them all carrying guns. And not all of them were handguns. My heart rate increases at the thought of someone firing. Campbell can handle himself; I’ve seen him in fights in and out of school. And I’ve never seen him lose.

But as he walks away from me, I notice that tucked into the waistband of his jeans, is a handgun. My heart is hammering in my chest and I feel like I’m going to be sick.

“We’re not done here until I say so.” Campbell places his hands into his front pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Well, until Cassandra, says so.” The guy laughs as if it’s the funniest joke he’s heard. The others in the group have smirks resting on their faces. “Something funny to you, Dewey?”

“You hate Cassandra. So why get her involved?”

Campbell clears his throat and looks back towards me, a small smile on his lips.

“Because of what you did.” He reaches with his right hand to his waistband and wraps his fingers around the gun but doesn’t remove it from its hiding spot. “What would you have done if you’d have shot her, huh?”

“She shouldn’t be here in the first place, Eliot.” He turns to look at his friends for their support, but none give it. “Should have kept out of our business.”

“Your business?” Campbell’s tone was darker now, his voice raising in volume. “You came here, with guns, to take stuff that doesn’t belong to you.”

“Like you’ve never stolen anything in your life.”

Campbell nods his head, smirking as he does so, looking at the floor. He swipes his tongue across his bottom lip and then bites down on it. I can see his body language change instantly, from relaxed to tense. As if he’s holding back.

It’s then that he takes the gun from his belt and aims it at him. His friends immediately take a step back, a few of them dropping their weapons on the ground. They raise their hands above their heads in surrender and back up.

“Greg, man. It’s not worth it.” They all then chime in, trying to calm Dewey down, to convince him to admit to his wrong doings. But to no avail.

“You got a soft spot for her, do ya Campbell?”

“That’s none of your fucking business.” His grip tightens on the gun.

“Greg, c’mon.”

He throws a look over his shoulder to the group that are slowly retreating. Each one of them with a look of regret on their faces. A few take a seat on the ground, knowing if they try and leave, they will be in the same situation as Greg is now.

I can’t see the expression on his face, but I know for a fact, that it would be one of disapproval at their words.

“Campbell.” His name leaves my lips before I can even process it in my head. My eyes widen in surprise and I cover my mouth with my hand.

He turns to face me without any hesitation and his grip on the gun falters for a moment, his wrist lowering slightly.

That’s when Greg takes the opportunity to grab him. Everything is happening so fast I have no idea what’s going. One moment Greg is grabbing at Campbell’s arms and throwing punches and the next, there is a gunshot echoing through the store. Then there is silence. I look across to the two boys, to find Greg with a shocked expression on his face. His skin pale and eyes brimming with unfallen tears. There’s a bruise starting to bloom on his cheek already and his top lip is split.

Campbell is standing a metre or so away from him, a hand to his left temple, breathing heavy. The gun clutched in his right hand tightly. Neither of them is injured, aside from the bruises and split lip.

“Dude, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise to me, apologise to her.”

Campbell directs Greg’s attention to me.

“I am so sorry. For everything. It was stupid of us – of me, to come here. It was my idea. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” Campbell scoffs lightly under his breath, I seem to be the only one that notices.

“Go. But don’t think for one second you’ve got away with this. That was a warning shot, alright? Next time I won’t miss.” Campbell straightens himself up and tucks the gun back into the waistband of his jeans, this time in the front so that everybody can see it. “And Cassandra will want to speak to you all.” He raises his voice so that they can hear him as they swiftly make their way out of the store. The ground now littered with their discarded weapons.

At least they won’t be using them again any time soon.

I tilt my head back and rest it onto the shelf behind me, my heart rate still high and my breathing shallow. I’m oblivious to Campbell taking a seat next to me until he’s knocking his elbow against mine to get my attention.

“Hey, you alright?’

I nod, worried that my words will fail me if I open my mouth. Slipping his sunglasses off of my face, I turn to look at him. His face is a mess, his left temple and cheek are already turning green and purple from the punches Greg delivered. No doubt he’ll have a black eye by the end of the day. And his lip is split, the blood drying already.

“I’m sorry.” He frowns at me, questioning me without words. “About you-, about your face.”

“It’s okay. No need to apologise.” He whispers and he shakes his head.

I reach up and slowly unravel the shirt from around my head. Feeling ridiculous sat here like this. I hold it in my lap, not wanting to give it back without washing it first. Seems a bit unfair when it’s my blood after all.

We sit in silence for a few minutes until we both simultaneously start laughing. After everything that’s happened, this is probably something that neither of us were expecting to occur.

“Why don’t we get out of here?” His words are kind, so unlike what I expected of him.

“Yeah.” Accepting his offer, he stands, holding out his hand for me to take. I slip my hand into his, squeezing, as he pulls me to my fit. My head spins for a moment before it stops, Campbell holding me tightly while I compose myself.

“I’ve gotta ask.” He clears his throat then continues. “You’ve not been staying at your place for a few days now. Where have you been going?”

“You been watching me, Eliot?”

His cheeks blush with embarrassment.

“Just making sure you’re alright is all.”

I nod my head and look at my feet, grinding my toes into the cracks in the tiles.

“I can’t be there on my own. It’s just.” I take a deep breath; it sounds so stupid to say it out loud. “Being an only child, just, it’s so empty. My Mom worked from home, so I was never on my own. This i-, this is the first time.”

When he squeezes my hand reassuringly, I realise that he hadn’t let go of me this whole time.

“Come stay with me.”

“What?”

“Come stay with me, at my place. I won’t ask anything of you. I’ll even cook you dinner.”

“Is that your way of asking me out?”

“Maybe.” He chuckles and leads me out of the store, making sure I don’t trip over anything else.

His hand is in mine the entire way.

#Campbell Eliot x reader #campbell x reader #Campbell Eliot imagines #the society imagines

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godkilller · 4 years

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out of character. So I know I talk a whole lot about how overpowered Gin can be ( when not constrained by his narrative role in Bleach ) but I think it’s about damn time I devoted a post to highlighting the opposite side.

GIN’S WEAKNESSES.

A decent Shunpo / Sonido / Hirenkyaku can move faster than Gin’s Shikai ability, which shoots roughly at the same rate as ( or slightly faster than ) a bullet

Gin’s Zanpakuto, Shinso, can only fire in one direction at a time, so multiple enemies converging onto him in relentless / determined ways may cause Gin to cut things close, or be completely overcome

Any extra slashing or swiping motions add time to Gin’s attack, so just because his sword stabs as fast as a blink does not mean he can issue massive sweeping blows within that same timeframe

The more Gin has to do with Shinso beyond just stab, the more time it’s spending extended out and away from him, leaving him vulnerable if an enemy is able to breach his bubble of comfort

Gin does not have the same pinpoint blind accuracy as Tousen, and therefore if he cannot see / sense his target, it will be harder or even impossible for him to land a hit

Concerning Gin’s Bankai in particular, he cannot stop the blade due to how quickly it travels, therefore fighting in close quarters will either force Gin to forgo using the ability entirely, or he’ll have to slice down the area he’s confined in -- an example of this mattering: Gin fighting within an unstable or just large structure ( or an occupied-by-civilians area ) is incredibly dangerous for everyone around him -- things will collapse, entire cities may crumble, so Gin will typically avoid this destruction

On that same note: if someone Gin cares about is in the vicinity / within his range ( and / or ) behind the enemy, Gin won’t be able to shoot without concerns for harming them, too

Gin’s sword is wielded within his dominant right hand, and is a single-handed weapon -- if his hand / arm is injured, this can make aiming difficult

In canon divergent verses in which he survives, Gin has lost his right arm entirely, and therefore must train to regain pinpoint aiming accuracy with his left -- early skirmishes within those divergent verse threads may have Gin at even a greater disadvantage, as he’s also significantly weakened alongside this loss

Being one arm down means that restraining / grabbing / stopping his arm can put things to a complete and utter halt

If Gin isn’t able to point his sword at your character while using his Bankai, then his Bankai is rendered essentially useless

Kamishini No Yari may move 500 times the speed of sound, but Gin does not, so if an attack moves faster than Gin can physically react, it has an extremely high chance of landing

Because Gin’s confident in his ability to react / the quick movement of his Zanpakuto, Gin will sometimes wait until the last second to block an attack -- and this may backfire on him if he misjudges

Gin’s not excellent with offensive kido and will also not rely on defensive kido to fire back, he prefers kenjutsu as his main mode of attack and will therefore struggle against a highly proficient kido master

Despite being relatively smart, there can be times in which Gin opts to play with his opponent rather than simply kill them -- this can definitely come back to bite him

If Rangiku is involved, incredibly close, and / or injured then consider Gin’s focus split in two -- and not evenly, either, the majority being honed onto her rather than himself

Gin’s a loner at heart, and will typically face threats alone in favor of keeping his squad members ( if applicable ) or other characters of interest away from the conflict -- he’s not good at accepting or asking for help and can suffer for it

In his canon divergent Redemption Verse, Gin’s reiatsu is sealed to half-power and he is not allowed to carry Shinso on his person unless given specific permission -- this may leave Gin unarmed and underpowered if a sudden ambush occurs

Gin will take blows meant for Rangiku or Izuru and others of great importance to him without hesitation if he cannot intercept it with Shinso to safeguard them

While he may be able to tank a decent hit or two, Gin isn’t Kenpachi, and will succumb to exhaustion, blood loss, and other woes like any other

In Redemption verse, Gin’s immunocompromised, meaning he’s susceptible to becoming sick / will struggle against infections, so if any injuries aren’t seen to his condition will quickly worsen

Gin’s not used to fending off things like Quincy arrows

If Gin feels he’s way in over his head and the option is available to him without cost, he’ll attempt to flee -- which is also unfortunately a brief moment of vulnerability once he turns to do so

Gin will downright sacrifice himself in a dire situation of no escape if it means Rangiku lives with certainty

It’s relatively easy to physically break Gin’s wrists if the attacker’s spiritual pressure matches or exceeds that of a captain-class Shinigami

Gin opts for sneak attacks, which means his weapon is not drawn until he seeks to quickly issue the blow; this can be remedied if an attacker abruptly makes the first move instead, forcing Gin to instead take on the defensive route

Despite him squinting, Gin actually uses his eyes -- and not being able to do so will hinder him greatly, especially due to the nature of his Zanpakuto requiring precise aim; injuring his eyes ( or extremely close to the eyes ) will be the beginning of his downfall

Gin’s pain tolerance is decent, but not excessive, and he’ll begin to slow down or become erratic / sloppy if pushed whilst injured

Sometimes Gin will wholly prioritize avoiding a conflict by attempting to verbally navigate things instead, and this leaves him vulnerable if his enemy is not interested in doing so

These are just the main points I can think of in one sitting, but yeah. He’s not indestructible, as canon has shown us. Gin can get fucked up !

#[ out of character ] masquerade; hide your face #[ headcanon ] fresh snowfall; fading footprints mark his path #some key mentions of #[ verse: redemption ] i am healing by mistake; rome is also built on ruins #too #long post

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tomeandflickcorner · 3 years

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Falcon and Winter Soldier Episode 6- My Thoughts

Oh, I can’t believe it’s over! And we have no idea when we’re going to see our favorite duo again! (Apologies for this being a bit late. I didn’t get to see the episode until Sunday night.) Spoilers under the cut.

Alright, so the first chunk of the episode is one huge action sequence after another. Karli and the Flag Smashers are attacking the GRC Headquarters to try and stop them from voting on the Patch Act, which would displace millions of people. So Sam and Bucky both come out to New York in order to deal with the matter. By the time the episode opens, Bucky is already there, but Sam is still on his way. Cue the reveal of Sam’s new Captain America outfit, which was what was in the crate from Wakanda. Apparently, it’s similar to his Captain America outfit in the comics. And it also comes with wings. (As well as two Redwings. Which suggests that Bucky actually asked for them in his request from the Wakandans in designing the new suit. Something that’s rather funny considering he clearly seemed to hate the original Redwing.)

Anyway, Sam makes his grand entrance by crashing through the windows in the upper levels of the GRC building. He begins to assist the GRC senators in evacuating the building. Because they initially think Karli and her group are going to try laying siege to the building or something. But then Sam and Bucky (who are communicating via earpieces) realize that’s not the case. The Flag Smashers are actually planning to abduct the GRC senators while they’re evacuating. So they both head off to try and stop this, with Sam heading up to try and protect the senators evacuating via helicopter while Bucky takes care of the ones evacuating in armored trucks. Of course, they both get held up. Sam has to face off against that Batroc guy, who I guess is out for revenge against Sam because of how Sam interfered with whatever Batroc was up to in the first episode. As for Bucky (who is also being aided by Sharon, who shows up out of the blue), he is held up when a Flag Smasher mole approaches him, telling him that Karli would like to speak to him over the phone.

Bucky accepts the phone call and tries to talk Karli down, telling her that he knows from experience that regardless of how justified she thinks she is, she won’t be able to forget the people she’s killed, and the memories of those deaths will come back to haunt her. But Karli digs in her heels and refuses to listen to his reasoning. Instead, she actually insinuates that Bucky doesn’t know what it’s like to be involved in a fight that’s bigger than him. I mean, seriously? Does she not realize she’s talking to someone who actively fought in WW2? Not to mention battled Thanos and his army twice. Anyway, Bucky eventually realizes that Karli wasn’t really interested in talking to him and had only initiated this phone conversation to keep him distracted while the armored trucks carrying the evacuating senators drove off, with other Flag Smasher moles placing these high-tech locking mechanisms on the doors. By the time Bucky makes it to the parking garage, it’s too late to stop the armored trucks from driving off. So he ends up hijacking a motorcycle to chase after the armored trucks. As for Sharon, she ends up stopping another Flag Smasher from getting away with this timed grenade thing she stealthily placed on his back. Which released some sort of gas that I think melted the guy’s face? Wow, Sharon is ruthless, isn’t she?

Meanwhile, Sam is still fighting with Batroc. But he manages to knock Batroc down long enough to get up to the helicopter as it’s taking off. That leads to a whole aerial action sequence that is really impressive. One of the coolest parts is when Sam is able to secretly communicate with one of the senators inside the helicopter. He was able to determine through this facial recognition software that this particular senator had some flight experience, so he collaborates with her over getting her to take over flying the helicopter when Sam physically removes the Flag Smasher pilot. In the end, Sam’s efforts manage to save the senators inside the helicopters.

Elsewhere, on the ground, the senators in the armored trucks are taken to this construction site, where Karli and the Flag Smashers are planning to either hold them for ransom or kill them in order to get their point across. But Bucky catches up to them, initiating this whole maneuver of launching himself off the motorcycle and lunging at one of the Flag Smashers. Karli, trying to distract him again, orders her followers to set fire to one of the armored cars. Because she knows that Bucky would choose to save the senators inside over going after her. Which is what Bucky does, using his Super Soldier strength to break off that door lock thing and pry the door open, enabling the senators to to escape the burning truck. (And can we talk about Bucky’s face when that one senator thanks him for saving their lives? Because I think this is the first time where somebody actually thanked Bucky for something, and you can see in his face that he’s not used to be treated like the hero.)

And then, out of nowhere, Walker appears. I was briefly surprised to see him showing up in fighting condition, because wasn’t his arm broken? But then I remembered, oh yeah! He’s a Super Soldier now. The whole speedy healing thing. Anyway, he’s looking for a rematch with Karli, because he’s naturally still furious over Hoskins. And his ire is raised to the next level with Karli actually announced that Hoskin’s death didn’t matter. (Yeah, wrong thing to say, girl!) So Walker and Karli begin to fight. But then, Walker is faced with another choice when the second armored car full of GRC senators starts to get pushed over the side of the construction site, which puts it in danger of falling into this large crater (is that the right term?) Briefly, you see Walker torn between continuing to go after Karli or saving the GRC senators, but in the end, he does the right thing and tries to stop the truck from falling. Because this episode is giving him something of a redemption arc, I guess.

But it seems that even with Walker’s efforts, the armored truck still is in danger of falling. Until Sam shows up and catches the truck before it falls. With the combined efforts of his wing engines and the jet engines of both Redwings, Sam is able to push the truck back onto stable ground.

After this, we get this scene of Walker, Sam and Bucky trying to locate Karli and the Flag Smashers inside these series of underground corridors that were attached to the construction site. Eventually, Bucky and Walker manage to team up and trick the Flag Smashers (sans Karli) into walking right into a trap by hacking into the phone app that Karli used to coordinate their movements and making them think Karli was waiting for them in a designated location. When instead of Karli, it was the cops waiting for them.

Of course, that just leaves Karli. But it’s not Sam who catches up to her first. It’s actually Sharon. Karli and Sharon start talking to each other, revealing that they know each other. Which leads to the show confirming that Sharon was the Power Broker.

Yeah, it was pretty obvious. And then Batroc shows up again for some reason, revealing that Sharon did indeed hire him to spy on Karli. But then I guess he gets shot. Not sure if he died or not, because he pretty much disappears from the episode at this point. However, Sharon also got grazed by a bullet from Karli’s gun as well. But before Karli could take advantage of Sharon’s injured state, Sam appears on the scene, having heard the gunshots. Once again, he tries to reason with Karli. And he makes it clear that he is not going to fight her. Even when she tries to attack him, he refuses to return her punches, only acting to deflect her blows. The confrontation ends with Karli aiming her gun at Sam. It’s not exactly clear if Sam’s refusal to fight her is managing to break through to Karli or not. But I guess we’re supposed to think Karli’s outlook on things aren’t being affected by Sam’s efforts. Because Sharon takes advantage of the moment to shoot Karli, mortally wounding her. And Karli ends up dying in Sam’s arms. Honestly, I think I’m okay with this ending for Karli. Yeah, it’s sad that she’s dead since she really was still a kid. But honestly, she did seem too far gone to be reasoned with.

In the aftermath of the ordeal, Sam brings Karli’s body to where everyone was gathered. As the medics take Karli’s body away, Sam has a stern conversation with the GRC senators, who were actually still planning to vote in favor of the Patch Act. Sam gives this really amazing inspirational speech about how the GRC senators need to stop and think about how they have the power to affect the lives of so many people. And that when they’re making these decisions, they need to consider if the people who will be affected by those decisions are getting to have a say in the matter. He points out that Karli died trying to stop them, and that if they don’t stop and ask themselves why she did what she did instead of simply dismissing her as a terrorist, there will only be more people like her. Yeah, this whole speech is a great one. And it perfectly shows why Sam is the one best suited to be the new Captain America.

Now, one would think the episode could end there, with Sam and Bucky walking off together (complete with Bucky teasing Sam by acting like he wasn’t really paying attention to his epic speech when it was clear he was listening to every word.) But they still have to address the remaining loose ends. Or at least most of them. The Flag Smashers that were captured were to to be transported to the Raft. But as they were being carted off, the prison van that was transporting them suddenly blows up. Because Zemo’s butler planted a bomb on the truck, apparently following Zemo’s orders. Ugh, even when Zemo is imprisoned and not actively in the picture, he’s still being an absolute slimeball. Because the authorities cannot trace the bomb to him. (Have I mentioned I despise Zemo? Like Karli, he is incapable of redemption. Why did some viewers start to like him?)

Elsewhere, Bucky finally finds the courage he needs to approach Yori. And he tells him the truth about what happened to his dead son, and the part Bucky played in the son’s death. Am I slightly disappointed that we didn’t really get to see Yori’s reaction to the news? Yeah, a bit. But I guess the point wasn’t to see how Yori’s opinion on Bucky was affected by the bombshell. The point was to help give Yori closure by telling him the truth. And it was nice to see Bucky accepting the fact that he didn’t have a choice in regards to the death of Yori’s son. And then we see Bucky left the notebook with all the names of the people he was supposed to make amends to in the therapist’s office. And all the names have been crossed off. I have mixed feelings on this. Yeah, I suppose it’s good that Bucky now feels at peace with his past and is able to move forward with his life. But I’m not a fan of the idea of him gifting the notebook to the therapist. Yeah, he no longer needs it. I get that. But isn’t this kinda like giving the therapist credit for his success? What exactly did she do to help him, anyway? Her method of therapy seemed more detrimental than anything. In case you haven’t gathered, I don’t think this woman was a good therapist to Bucky. I never got the impression that she was actually trying to help him recover from his mental scars. She seemed more concerned with making sure he passed government inspection or something.

As for Sam, he once again pays a visit to Isiah, where they talk about Sam’s choice to become a Black Captain America. Sam acknowledges it’s not going to be an easy thing to do, and he knows it might end up getting himself killed. But he’s still willing to try. Because the country was built with the blood of Black men and women. So it’s important to honor their struggle by continuing to fight. Sam then brings Isaiah and his grandson, Eli, to the Captain America exhibit at the Smithsonian. Where we see Sam has managed to get them to put up a stature of Isaiah, along with a plaque that tells his story. This way, the world will know about him and the part he played in the legacy of Captain America. This gesture seems to touch Isaiah, who hugs Sam in gratitude. Because while this doesn’t erase the pain he went through, it’s finally being acknowledged. (Question- didn’t Isaiah say in the last episode that he didn’t want Sam to get his story out there? Because he thought that if it was, the people who locked him up might realize he was still alive and come for him? Then again, maybe having Isaiah’s story there for everyone to see protects him. Because if the government comes for Isaiah now, it won’t go unnoticed by the public. And the government doesn’t exactly like bad publicity.)

Oh, and I probably should mention Walker. He’s gotten in contact with that Contessa person. Who is apparently Madam Hydra from the comics. She gives him a new suit and redubs him as U.S. Agent. Clearly, this has sinister undertones to it. Because while this episode seemed to be somewhat redeeming Walker, it doesn’t bode well if he’s now in league with a top agent from Hydra. Also, I personally felt Walker’s characterization was all over the place in this episode. The last time he saw Bucky and Sam, he was actually trying to kill them for trying to take the Shield away from him. But now he’s okay with Sam taking up the mantle of Captain America, something he previously felt he still deserved? Yeah, he does get a gold star for putting his grudge against Karli aside in favor of saving the lives of the GRC senators. But now he’s in league with someone from Hydra. What exactly am I supposed to think about him?

And then there’s the matter of Sharon. Who gets her full pardon from the US Government, thereby enabling her to return to work in her old department. But this might end up being a bad thing, because she’s the Power Broker. And she can use her position to further her agenda. So I’m guessing Sharon is the bad guy now? Way to dishonor your Aunt Peggy Carter’s legacy, lady!

And the episode, and the show, officially ends with Sam and Bucky attending this big cookout at Sam and Sarah’s hometown in Louisiana. Which shows that Bucky is welcome among Sam’s family. And that Sam and Bucky are now close friends, signifying how far they’ve come. While it is a nice scene and all, I personally thought ending it there was a bit weak. Can’t really explain why, though. By the way, what exactly happened to that family-run fishing business that Sam and Sarah were trying to save? Did we ever get a resolution to that plot point? Also, I want to mention that scene when Bucky shows up at the cookout and immediately starts goofing around with AJ and Cass. Was it nice to see Bucky relaxed enough to goof around like that (even though I think we saw a little of Sebastian Stan’s actual personality come out for a bit there)? Yeah, of course it was! But I can’t be the only one who was watching this while thinking ‘Kids! No! Stop that! You’re gonna make him drop the cake!’

So that was The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (which actually gets renamed as Captain America and the Winter Soldier at the very end.) Overall, it was a good show. Kudos for the show writers to address such topics of systematic racism and the like. I’m just sad this might be the last time we’ll get to see Bucky and Sam. At least for the time being. I do see we’re getting a 4th Captain America movie. (Or the real Captain America 3. Because let’s be real, Civil War really was another Avenger movie pretending to be a Captain America movie.) So we’ll at least get to see Sam as Captain America again. That’ll be fun! Can’t wait for that. Because he makes a great Captain America!

#falcon and winter soldier #falcon and winter solider series

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whatisthiscontentyouspeakof · 4 years

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A Cold Days Night that Changes Everything

A03 | Previous | Next

Prologue Part 2

The Malfoys were a traditional family, a dark family and generally everything that Dumbledore and the light stood against in their own, so to say there were surprised when they received a patronus from their old Headmaster was a bit of a understatement. They made sure Draco was looked after, being watched over by his nursery house elf, before heading to St Mugo’s wondering why they were summoned but without the time or resources to get the answer in time for meeting with the elder wizard.

A healer assistant was waiting for them by the floo, leading them through the hospital to the Janus Thickey Ward. Narcissa slipped her hand through the crook of Lucius’s elbow, ever the more curious as to why she and her husband were being lead to the spell damage ward of St Mugo’s. As far as she was aware no one they knew, as in where friendly with, where patients there, nor had she heard of any of their aquantaces being injured in a way that would require hospitalization.

Lucius Malfoy patted his wife’s hand, his mask firmly in place. He would not show any concern or other emotion to any passerby’s. The only people he knew that were residences of the Janus Thickey ward were the Longbottoms, neither of whom would ever leave, and even if they did miraculously heal, they knew nothing that would affect any of the Malfoy’s lives.

The Healers Assistant bowed to them as they met up with Dumbledore and a Healer.

“Lord and Lady Malfoy,” the Healer greeted with a bow, showing her respect to the most ancient and most noble house of Malfoy. “ I am Healer Miriam Strout, the Head Healer of the Janus Thickey Ward. Thank you for joining us on such short notice. If you could sign these forms stating that anything you see or any information you learn while on the ward is kept to yourself. The privacy of our patients is of great importance of us. Once the papers are signed then Mr. Dumbledore shall fill you in on why you have been called here.”

“And if we do not wish to sign the forms?” Lucius asked.

Healer Strout smiled at him politely. “I am afraid that that isn’t an option Lord Malfoy. If you decide not to sign the forms then you will not be able to meet my patients until Christmas break when they are no longer patients of mine and thus you won’t need to sign the papers. I do believe that now would be a better time then later.”

Sometimes you had to take risks in life, and neither Malfoy liked the idea of information being kept from them for several months. The two read over their forms carefully, making sure they weren’t signing anything that could be used against them or that trapped them in any way, before signing their names. Healer Strout waved her wand over the forms, activating them, binding the Malfoy by what they had agreed to, before duplicating the papers so each Malfoy could have a copy of what they signed.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. “Some interesting events have happened that need your involvement Lady Malfoy.” he explained as they started to move to the private room section of the ward. Narcissa raised her eyebrow, all the more curious now. She, like her husband, had assumed they were summoned because Dumbledore needed something from Lucius, not her. “There is no easy way to say this. At the end of the war a lot of corners were cut, and laws excused so that we could get through all the trials and put everything behind us as soon as possible. One of those cut corners was not performing pregnancy tests on any females being held for trial. Unfortunately these pregnancy tests weren’t performed upon sentencing and thus it was missed that your sister, Bellatrix, was a few weeks pregnant when shipped off to Azkaban.”

Narcissa couldn’t help it, she placed her hand up to her mouth to stifle her gasp of horror. The idea that Bella had been pregnant when she’d been shipped off to Azkaban was a horror she couldn’t even imagine. It didn’t help that she was standing in the ‘Crazy Ward’ as several, less sensitive purebloods, referred to the Janus Thickey Ward.

“The child?” Lucius asked after a beat of silence.

“Children,” Dumbledore corrected. “Bellatrix gave birth to twins, Vulpecula Ursa Bellatrix Lestrange Black and Cassiopeia Delphini Lestrange Black. Both were adopted into the Black family by Sirius Black upon their birth. Both prefer to use Black for their family name instead of Lestrange.”

“Twins,” Narcissa repeated numbly. “They’re nine then?” the anger started to set in. “How in Merlin’s name did Bellatrix give birth to twins without anyone knowing?”

“Lady Malfoy I understand-“ Dumbledore began.

Narcissa interrupted the old wizard, ignoring her upbringing. “You understand? How could you possibly understand? I have just been informed that I have two nieces that were raised in one of the worst places, if not the worse place, in the Magical World, experiencing how knows what? By Merlin, they spent the last nine years surrounded by Dementers, something that would make any grow witch go insane, much less a bunch of children. So no Albus, I do not thing you understand. I do not think any of us understand what those children have gone through and how they are going to recover.” She took a breath, drawing herself up, putting back on a mask of calm concern before turning to the healer. “When can we see the girls?”

She and Lucius had already figured out why she had been called to St Mugo’s. As the only descendent of the most ancient and most noble house of Black that wasn’t dead, disinherited or imprisoned, she was the only one eligible to raise the twins.

“There is another matter we need to speak of first,” Dumbledore said before Healer Strout could say anything. “As the two of you are aware blood magic is illegal in Europe. Goblin magic isn’t however, even if it involved magic. Ten years ago, a talented young witch, worried that she wouldn’t be there to see her son grow up, used Goblin magic to make it so that, if her son was hurt by someone that was caring for him, that was supposed to look after him, that he’d be magically transported to someone else to raise and look after him, going down the same list she and her husband had included in their will, as long as the person was physically able and magic still accepted them as an acceptable guardian. When the child was one, his parents were murdered as part of the war and he was given to relatives to raise, one of whom hit him, trigger the magic and sending him off to his godfather, only a few months after being placed with his relatives. His godfather adopted him into the Black family months before the twins were born.”

Narcissa’s eyes widened. “Harry Potter.” she whispered. The only male Black imprisoned in Azkaban was Sirius and he only had one godchild.

The saviour of the magical world, or at least magical Europe, was raised in Azkaban.

“Take me to them,” Narcissa ordered, done with waiting around.

At the end of one of the hallways was a private room that was dimly lit, since the children weren’t use to bright colours and lots of lights, with faded colours to start getting the children use to different sights and sound since music was also playing softly in the room. Healer Strout spoke of her plan to slowly introduce the children to bright colours, different sounds, sights, smells, people and so on and so forth throughout the next month so that the three of them would be ready for Hogwarts. While Harry was the only one who was old enough to go to Hogwarts for schooling, it was suggested that the three siblings not be separated as they were being introduced to a whole new world and only knew each other, and had only had each other for their whole lives. For their mental health, the twins would be staying in private chambers with Harry being allowed to visit whenever, so they could alway know where each other are and were always in the same building. They could work on separating the three of them more and getting them used to be apart throughout the school year.

Much like with the twins, Narcissa was the only one eligible to look after Harry, meaning during the Holidays and summer the three children would be staying at Malfoy manor, though both Malfoys knew that was only until Dumbledore figured out a way to discredit them or find another way to get the children to be raised by someone else, someone light.

Until then, the Malfoy had three new children to get to know.

Draco Malfoy wasn’t too worried when his parents were summoned away, they were important people after all. He never expected that they would come back with news that he was about to gain three new siblings, one of which included the Boy-Who-Lived.

Before he was able to met his three new siblings, he first had to spend an hour every day for just over a week with his parents and Healer Strout going over how to interact with them, how to make sure they were comfortable and not overwhelmed and what signs to look for that they needed to get away or see a healer or where about to blow up at someone. They also went over the rough knowledge the three of them had about the wizarding world, all of which was ten years out of date, and how to catch them up on current events and the aftermath of the war as well as the political climate and what people are going to expect of Harry.

After that first week Draco was allowed to see the siblings for the first time, though he would have to wait another day to meet them as he had lessons to get to. The first person he saw was the youngest of the three, Cassiopeia Black as he was informed she preferred to be called, though her siblings called her Delphi, a shortening of her middle name.

She had silver white, not bright blond but silver, hair that fell to her shoulders in slights waves, the tips of which were a stormy blue. Draco realized it was probably the only blue she had ever seen and thus mimic with her Metamorphmagus powers. Draco couldn’t quite make out the colour of her eyes, just that they were dark, likely either a dark grey or brown since those were the two eyes colours that were most common in the Black family. She was tiny, even for what he imagined a nine year old being, he certainly didn’t remember being that small. And she was slim, her robes hanging off her lifelessly, more so then what was normal for non tailored robes.

After her, Draco noticed Cassiopeia’s twin whom was playing a game of one sided chess beside her reading sister. For being the older twin, Vulpecula Black was just a smudge shorter and smaller then her sister, making her appear younger. According to Draco’s mother, Vulpecula looked just like a younger Bellatrix with the same aggressively curly dark brown hair that went to her waist and delicate facial structure. The only different was the admiral blue eyes that stood out form the normal neutral tones of the Black family, standing out even from a distance. She was one of the palest people Draco had ever seen, her sister included in that, though he guessed that made sense since they wouldn’t have seen sunlight in their entire lives. Her robes hanged off her much like her sister, her wrists and hand so tiny and thin that he could clearly seen the bones of them poking through the skin.

Hardwin Black was the last of the three he noticed, the boy his age sitting off to the side meditating. Like his sister, he was pale, though he had a naturally darker skin tone commonly seen throughout the Potter family that made him less so then his sisters. His black hair was pulled back into a thick braid, several of which feathered out from the braid, refusing to be completely contained. He seemed to be taller then the sisters and looked older, which was good since he was two years older, but Draco never would have guessed that the two of them were the same age, Hardwin appearing to be nine while his sisters Draco would have guessed to be closer to six. Draco went to move from the observation glass, he did have lessons, only to stop as Hardwin’s eyes opened and bright green eyes met Draco’s own grey eyes, starring into his soul. A smirk slowly formed on Hardwin’s mouth before he closed his eyes and went back to meditating.

Draco turned away, heart beating, but even more excited to get to know his new brother and sisters.

Theodore ‘Theo’ Nott felt like an outside in his own family some days. Like many kids in his generation he was an only child. He had the chance to have many siblings, all sisters, but they ended up being still born or miscarried, usually from special treatment his father upon finding out the gender of the child. Tertius Nott, his father, was a man of great importance, not because of anything he did, but because no one dared to say anything against him. Theo honestly didn’t know how his father, who was ruthless and violet and openly a blood purist and Voldemort supporter, didn’t get charge with being a Death Eater when he obviously had been.

Tertius Nott followed the thought process of most of the extended Nott family, taught to him by his father, the current Lord Nott, that went back generations. Family ideals and rules included beat down and destroy anyone who got in your way or who was weaker then you, Muggles and Mudbloods were worthless and Half Bloods weren’t much better, You are a Pureblood, you will marry a Pureblood and your children will marry a Pureblood, etc, etc.

That's where Theo mostly found himself feeling like an outside, like someone who didn’t belong in his own family. He didn’t agree with what most his family believed, though he knew better to say anything. He was going to be Lord Nott when his father and the current Lord Nott died and then he would be able to start to change him family image. While he did believe some of the things his family believed in like the fact that Muggleborn and Muggle lovers were ruining the Magical World, destroying tradition and getting ride of many Wizarding customs, replacing them with Muggle ones and that was atrocious, he didn’t believe that Muggleborns were weaker then Purebloods in magic, or that Muggleborns were stealing magic from Pureblood children. He also didn’t believe in judging people by their family. He knew he was nothing like his father, and the Nott men before them, and thus other children couldn’t be exactly like their parents. Some, like Draco Malfoy, obviously mimic their fathers and aimed to be like them, while other, Theo knew, where already trying to be their own person. Theo couldn’t do that quiet yet for fear of his life, after all, his father was still trying to have another son, someone he could use to replace Theo with if he got out of hand.

Theo was excited to get to Hogwarts, to met new people, especially those he wouldn’t ever get to met normally, though he knew he wouldn’t be able to speak with them unless he was disagreeing, in case it got back to his father, but it would be interesting to see all the different view points and perspectives of the other students. He was going to study and learn from his fellow students and then he was going to mould and shape the wizarding world to make it better for all wizard kind, though through laws and government movements and not terror and bloodshed.

The twin sisters loved St. Mugo’s and meeting knew people. They were even more excited for when they’d be moving to Hogwarts in a week. They’d been told stories about the school and the wild, un-contained, lost magic that swirled through the place as common as the air they all breathed. Interesting things had to happen in a place like that.

Vulpecula Ursa Bellatrix Lastrange, Vulpa to her family (except to Sirius who called her his little Lula Lupa), was the eldest of the two of them. No one knew how much older she was, time was hard to keep track of in Azkaban, days really being the only thing they could keep track of consistently, resulting in her and her twin knowing that they were born the same day at the very least. Like both of her siblings, she preferred the Black name as her last name, knowing it was more of a blank slate for a new beginning then Lestrange or Potter. Sirius had adopted all three of them into the Black family within moments of them finding themselves in Azkaban, when Harry had arrived and she and her sister had been born. Besides her mother, Vulpa knew she was going to miss Sirius the most, even more so that her father, whom was nice, but often found himself trapped within memories and the grips of insanity from the Dementers and thus wasn’t really there and thus in her life as a real person.

She was nervous being away from the only home she’d ever known, knowing that she’d never step foot there again, and a part of her felt like the entire world was crushing down on her. Aside from that, she was quite excited for all the new things she was undoubtably going to experience, all the knew places she’d get to experience and things she’d find and the people she’d meet. She couldn’t wait until people got bored of her and her siblings so she could go exploring without worrying about anyone following her or keeping track of where she was going or getting in her way. She wondered what secrets the depths of Hogwarts hid.

Cassiopeia Delpini Lestrange was the youngest of her siblings, though often she was the most mature, at least compared to Vulpa, and Sirius but everyone was more mature then him. Much like with both her siblings, she preferred a shortening of her name, or in her case, her middle name, choosing to be called Delphi by her family. Unlike both her siblings who were fine with being called their shortened forms of their names once they were comfortable enough with a person to get past last names, Delphi knew she’d first let them call her Cassiopeia first, probably because she’d get tired of hearing someone say Black and not know if they were talking about her or her siblings, her full first name still having a level of formality and distance to it for the person to know exactly where they stood.

Delphi felt weird living outside of Azkaban. She like meeting knew people, knowing what made them tick and how that could be used to her advantage or as a way to protect her siblings but the outside world felt…different. She couldn’t explain it. There were things that were obviously different, how warm and dry and light everything was for example. But there was a difference in the air, and it wasn’t the lack of despair, pain and insanity. She couldn’t place her finger on what it was and it unnerved her, made her feel on edge. She couldn't help but wonder what it was and if it was important.

The Weasleys were a large and energetic family. With six boys and one girl, Molly and Arthur Weasley had their hands full. Not to mention over the years, especially during the war and right after, they acted as a safe house for the Order of the Phoenix members between missions, their home a collection of protection charms that prevent people from noticing it, not necessarily preventing from attack as both believed that it best their enemies not find them then rely on shields that may one day fail under strenuous attack.

As the heads of a large family, Arthur and Molly felt the need to protect their children, their children's future and their children’s rights to live the lives they wish to live, as long as they don’t harm other people. As such, it made sense for them, as a ancient light family, to stand against Voldemort during his reign of terror. In times of peace they found themselves to be less busy with anything to do with Order business, allowing them to focus on their children and own hobbies.

They were able to find friends to help teach their eldest son, Bill, the skills he’d need to apply for his curse breaker apprenticeship when the time came, skills he couldn’t get at Hogwarts. Molly had time to bring Charlie to the closest Athenaeum to study and research different creatures when he became especially interested with care for magical creatures, while Arthur spent time with the other kids on his days off. Percy they collected extra money to buy him notebooks and other studying supplies to help him with all his studies, both for school and for personal reasons, to help him expand his knowledge. The twins, well there wasn’t really much they could do with their little trouble makers to reward them, after all they didn’t want to promote behaviour like turning their brother’s hair blue or causing their housemates to speak in rhymes for a week. Instead of rewarding them or helping them specifically, they went easier on them when they got in trouble then they would any of their other children and they turned a blind eye when they pranked one of their siblings in a way that everyone found funny. With Ron, well they didn’t really know what to do with Ron. They got him a second hand wizarding chest set that he seemed happy enough with. Ginny got new clothing that she often got to pick out herself, something the rest of her siblings couldn’t say. She also got her own space the boys couldn’t barge in on and a level of privacy none of her other siblings got.

As happy as they were with spending time with their family and taking care of them and just enjoying life, they knew that should anything happen, they wouldn’t hesitate to help the Order or any of its members out if they needed it. That was why, when Dumbledore stepped through their fireplace, they didn’t hesitate to send their children out to the field for the day to speak with the old wizard in privacy.

They were horrified with what they heard, that Harry Potter, the wizarding world saviour and innocent boy, had grown up in Azkaban, raised by Death Eaters and other monsters. Dumbledore assured them that he was not lost, that the boy still had good in him and would be a figure of the light should he be introduced to the right influences. Unfortunately the Malfoy’s currently had custody of the boy, along with two innocent girls who’d also been raised in Azkaban, and was likely to turn them to the dark much like his old ‘colleagues’ tried to do. Of course, Harry was the one they’d really have to focus on, as he was more likely to turn to the light considering who his parents were until like the girl who parents were Death Eaters locked up with them.

Of course to turn Harry to the light they would first have to get close to him, and the best way to do that… well they did have a lot of children.

Ronald ‘Ron’ Weasley couldn’t wait until he got to Hogwarts. Finally he would have a chance to prove himself and step out from behind his siblings shadows. He’d be the perfect Gryffindor, the star Quidditch player, even better then Charlie and his parents would have no choice but to pay him the same attention they did to the twins or buy him new or special things like they did with the rest of his siblings. Sure he got that Wizard Chess set but he knew not only it was second hand, but he only got it because it was cheap, even for a second hand item, and his parents felt guilty about not giving him anything when they gave his siblings stuff.

Hogwarts would change all that he was sure, maybe even once he learned some magic he’d also be able to stop the twins from using him as their person prank tester without his knowledge or permission. He was willing to serve some detentions if it meant no more teddy’s turned into spiders, or waking up in the nearby river or any thing else that the twins found funny in a given moment

He didn’t realize how quick things would change for him though, how soon he’d get an opportunity to prove himself to his family. No one had really thought too hard about why Dumbledore had come to visit, at least not at first. Then Ron had been called in to speak with his future Headmaster and his parents and since then his siblings wouldn’t stop hounding him to find out what they had spoken about, but Ron refused to say anything. Partially because he’d been asked not to, and partially because it was nice to be in the know about something while his siblings sat in the dark.

Harry Potter, the boy who lived and hero to the Wizarding World, had been raised in Azkaban, surrounded by evil dark wizards who had probably tried to taint his mind and turn him dark like they were. Dumbledore assured him that Harry was still light and that Ron was in charge of making sure he stayed that way, of becoming his friend and keeping him on the path of good, to not give in to the temptation the dark hung over him.

Ron happily agreed. After all, he was a Weasley and Harry was a Potter. It was going to be easy.

#Harry Potter #Harry Potter Fanficiton #Harry raised by Sirius #Sirius raises Harry

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holylulusworld · 5 years

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Devil’s Bargain - Part 9 - Broken Dreams

Summary: Getting the job as Jared Padalecki’s assistant was a dream coming true until you woke up in a living nightmare. He’s angry, selfish and possessive. The worst of all - his anger is focused on you. Quitting your job was your only way out - only it wasn’t the end of your nightmare...

Pairing: Jared Padalecki x Reader, OFC’s Mark, Brad & Caleb (reader’s brothers), Jensen Ackles, Danneel Ackles

Warnings: angst, language, OOC Jared, Jared is a douche and worse, tension, unrequited feelings, heartbreak, betrayal, smut, unprotected sex, dom!Jared, degrading, injured reader, blood, violence, mentions of miscarriage/sexual assault/physical abuse (not Jared and nothing graphic)

PLEASE BE AWARE THIS IS A FANFIC. For the sake of the fic he’s single and an asshole. I still love him, but this fic came to my mind months ago...

Devil’s Bargain Masterlist

“I’m telling you Y/N is a nice person, okay. If you won’t stop treating her the way you do I’ll make sure she will sue you.” Jensen paces around Jared’s living room, watching his friend smirk.

“Calm down, Jay. Y/N and I talked about a few things. You can ask her. For over three weeks I behave. I’m not Mr. Sunshine but I admitted my behavior was inappropriate, Jensen. My ex, she messed with my feelings and head.”

Jared is not giving away he found out you are a therapist who works ‘undercover’ to help people.

“Good, I hope you will keep your word. I know Nicole was a bitch first grade, and I understand you had a hard time to get over what happened.” Jensen looks hopefully up at his best friend. “I promise Y/N is not like her. If I may recite my wife ‘she’s into you for sure’.”

“Jay…” Jared needs to hide a dark grin as Jensen presents you on a silver plate.

“Jared, I swear she would never hurt you. All Y/N ever wanted was to help you. Maybe I should tell you something important.” Close to blow your cover Jensen bites his lower lip. “Jare, Y/N is…”

“Good morning.” Beaming you wave at Jensen, followed by a curt nod at your boss. “Can I offer you a coffee Jensen?” Your friend eyes you warily, hoping Jared didn’t lie.

“No, thanks. I just came around to check on Jared and ask how he’s doing. How about you come to the party Danny and I are planning for hiatus?” Not knowing if you are allowed to go to the party you silently ask Jared for permission and his cock twitches in interest at your submissive behavior.

“I guess my assistant will come with me, Jensen. Now let’s talk about the script while Y/N can have breakfast.”

Jared gives you a warm smile and you return it, still not trusting the armistice between you and your boss. He seems to regret his behavior but the smart little voice in your head tells you to not trust him, while the dirty smirking girl dances around you.

“I prepared everything for the interviews today, Mr. Padalecki. I think you should check the questions and tell me if you want me to make sure they only ask you stuff you want to answer.”

While you show Jared the list he places one hand at your back, gently moving it up and down as he enjoys that goosebumps erupt all over your skin.

“I don’t want them to ask me about my past relationships.” Jared mumbles and you point at three crossed out lines.

“I already made sure they won’t ask that kind of question. I wouldn’t want to talk about my ex either…” Falling silent you give Jensen a cracked smile as he looks away, guilt-ridden.

“Why?” Jared leans closer, almost sensing your pain. “Did he do something wrong?”

“Let’s say he was not…” Blinking a few times you shake your head, swallowing the pain once again.

Sometimes you believe you should be one of your clients. While being an expert to let other people talk about their problems you avoid telling anyone what your ex did…

“I’d like to know.” Jared insists and you scoff, not giving away anything.

“I don’t think you want to hear a sob story, Mr. Padalecki. Let’s keep the private stuff private. If you want to cross out more questions, do so.” Running upstairs, you wipe away a few tears.

“What was that?”

Jensen plays his role well, not giving away he’s one of the few people knowing what happened back then. “Got, not clue, Jared. Maybe a bad break-up or something.”

“Bad break-up huh…?” Jared’s features soften for a moment but then he remembers you betrayed him, so he shakes his compassion off, planning his next step.

----

The interviews went well and you smile as Jared offers to have lunch with you. He even pulls your chair and tells you about his favorite food. Only listening to his explanations you realize Jared can be a charming man.

“I need to thank you for making sure they will not ask me about Nicole our relationship.” Jared is unusually open and you nod, just letting him talk.

“That’s what an assistant is there for.” You lie, not giving away anything. “Sir…”

“Well, that last guy asked me if I have a new relationship or if I like someone.” Nodding you sip at your water. “I told him there is this special girl.” Your heart drops and you poke your food with the fork.

“I’m happy you found someone you like, Sir.” Voice a bit too bitter you try to remind yourself Jared is a client, and that you need to be professional around him.

“Same. I mean…” Smiling Jared takes your hand in his. “You are the most important girl in my life right now. I should’ve told you way sooner I was that grumpy as I like you…”

Your eyes round and your heart beats a mile in a minute, still, you try to tame your emotions.

“Sir, we shouldn’t…I need to…” Jumping up you run toward the restrooms, earning yourself a dark grin from Jared.

One step closer to his goal…

----

Weeks passed and slowly the little alerted voice became silent. Jared seems to put effort into redemption, even offered you to stay at his house till hiatus. Maybe it’s time for the final step, an intervention with his friends and family.

A week ago, you called his parents and told Jensen and Danneel about your idea. Jensen was happy to hear Jared is doing well, so here you are trying to find a way to tell Jared you are a therapist.

“Mr. Padalecki…” Shuffling on your feet you decide to risk it all and talk to Jared. “I think we need to talk about something.” Jared is already in his suit pants and a white dress shirt to attend Jensen’s party.

“Can we not forget about work and stuff till after Jensen’s party, Y/N?”

Jared steps closer, moving his hands up and down your arms. You are shivering at his touch and he smirks, knowing you are close to giving in.

“Jar…I mean Mr. Padalecki, there is something you should know. I think it’s time to admit that I am…” His lips silence you and you gasp as his tongue snakes into your mouth.

“We will wait till after the party, Y/N. After you can tell me anything you want to…” Jared orders and you nod, still dumbfounded by the soft kiss and the way his hand claims yours.

“Oh—okay, Sir…” Following Jared out of his house you smile as he opens the door for you, even helps you get in, holding your hand once more. “Thanks…”

----

While Danneel watches Jared eying you up and down she tries to warn her husband once more. There is something on Jared’s features she doesn’t like tonight.

“Jensen, I’m telling you something is off with Jared. Yes, he is nicer, even offered Y/N a drink but his eyes…” Pointing toward you talking to Misha Danneel shakes her head. “Y/N is in too deep to see it, Jensen but I got a bad feeling.”

“You sure?” Jensen is not convinced. He only sees Jared walk toward you, a smile on his lips as he holds out his hand to dance with you. “Maybe he likes her, Danny. Y/N is the best and you know it…”

“Not if feelings are involved, Jensen. You know what happened with Scott…” Hating to bring your ex up Danny shakes her head. “Y/N is the smartest person I ever met, but she was too blinded by her feeling to see through Scott’s lies.”

“Do you believe Jared would pull such a stunt too? Would even hurt Y/N?” Jensen downs his drink in one go as he watches Jared’s hands press you close to his body. Eyes wide he sees his best friend kiss you and the pit in his stomach grows.

“Jensen, we should…” Nodding Jensen wants to stop your dance, but the music ends and you excuse yourself to get fresh air.

While Jensen tries to make his way through the people Jared can see the look his friend gives him and turns to leave the house too, knowing this is the last chance to strike…

Outside you try to tame your heart and libido. Your mind is screaming, as your smart little voice tries to tell you something is off with Jared. If only you wouldn’t have fallen for your client…

“Y/N, I think we should go. I need to reread the script and all…” Jared strips his jacket off, wrapping it around your shoulders. “Let’s go home…”

“Oh—sure. Shouldn’t we say goodbye, Sir?” Shaking his head Jared pecks your lips. “I said goodnight and greeted Jensen and the others from you. Let’s go home…”

----

You didn’t make it far into the house before your dress was on the floor and Jared’s hands all over your trembling body.

“Want you…”

“Jared…” Crying out you feel his rough hand cup your mound. “I need…god…please…tell you something. I can’t have sex with you without telling you I am…” His lips silence you once more and you fall into his trap.

Your hands tangle in his hair as Jared picks you up to carry you into his bedroom. You end on the bed, not caring you break your adamant rule to not fall for a client.

Jared enjoys the way your chest heaves up and down and your glassy eyes while he strips his clothes off. Without thinking twice, you drop your underwear to the floor, letting Jared have a look at your naked form.

“I must admit…that’s quite a sight.” Smirking Jared crawls up the body to settles between your legs. With skilled fingers he works your heated flesh, loving the way you grind against his digits.

“Jared, we shouldn’t…I have to tell you…oh…fuck me…” Jared is pushing the tip in, smirking as your eyes round with every inch he slides into you. Two rough hands grip your waist, digging his fingertips into your flesh he snaps his forward to bottom out.

“Just be my good girl, kitten and call me Sir when you cum…” You want to touch Jared, but he flinches away, thrusting hard to make sure you will not try again.

“No touching…” The dark grin on his face is back and you feel unease as he starts thrusting into you.

“Jared…”

“Sir…” He corrects, sliding out of you to flip you onto your stomach.

Disappointed you cry out as he slides back into you. His hand fists your hair as he starts to move his hips at a maddening pace. “Take it, slut. I want you to feel me and know that I won…”

His words don’t make sense but your brain is busy to tell you the knot in your belly is about to burst.

You never felt that full and you must admit Jared knows what he’s doing. Every thrust makes you cry out. His hand digs deep into your flesh, making sure you can feel him for days.

The whole time you want to say something, tell him who you are but he presses your head into the cushions, calling you his, and kitten to make sure you know he’s in control.

“I will show you…fuck…” Cursing Jared snaps his hips against your ass, using your body as he did with his ex that night and just now you recognize the pattern.

Your lips want to move, you want to say something but the knot bursts open and all you can do is cry out his name and three words making Jared’s blood run cold.

“I love you…” Blurring out the words you fall onto the bed, Jared’s cum dripping out of you. He’s frozen to the spot but then he shakes it all off, laughing before he slaps your ass.

“Nice fuck, slut. I think you should consider this as your severance pay.” Now you roll over, searching Jared’s face and the cold man is back, your eyes water as he keeps on talking. “You fell for my trap that easily.”

“I…I don’t understand…” You want to say more but Jared laughs about you. “I played you, Y/N. I know who you are, okay. Therapist my ass. Do you fuck all of your clients, whore?” Your face falls and the light in your eyes is gone.

Jared’s breath hitches in his throat as the look on your face shows something between disbelief, hurting, and betrayal. You look away, grabbing the blanket to cover your modesty.

“I want you to leave and never come back. Your apartment is gone too. You better get your stuff as I bought it…” Jared’s voice is not as self-confident as before.

The look in your eyes doesn’t let him go, just like the tremble of your body or the sobs leaving your lips.

“Everyone was right … you’re a monster…” Faster than ever before you get dressed to run out of the room.

While Jared stands in his empty bedroom, regretting he hurt you, hating himself you grab your things, tossing all you own in your bags.

After what feels like ages he finally finds the strength to walk out of the room only to find the guest room empty.

Jared can only watch you enter your old car to speed off, to leave his life like everyone else before…

----

Two hours later Jared’s phone rings and a cold shiver runs down his spine before he drops everything and runs toward his car.

----

“I don’t want your excuses, asshole! I want to know why my sister had an accident while working for you!”

Jensen steps back as one of your brothers is ready to beat him into a pulp. “She was not ready to work again…” Mark yells and Danny needs to step between her husband and your brother.

“Mark, we are so sorry. This was an accident…her car and…” Danny stammers as Mark shakes his head.

“No, Danny! She called me, okay. My sister was crying, and…” Sniffling Mark looks at his brothers, not able to keep on talking.

“She called Mark, confused, crying uncontrollably and she told us your best friend just used her only to fire her. Your nice friend lured her into his bed, used my sister and told her she’s a whore. I know Y/N told him she loves Jared and he laughed at her…” Caleb needs to compose himself as tears run down his face.

“After all she’s been through with Scott she fell in love only to get hurt again…” Brad whispers, glancing at Jensen who starts to shake, not knowing what to say he slumps onto a chair.

“I never thought he would do such a thing…” Voice broken Jensen looks at his wife, silently asking her if it’s his fault.

“Did she do it on purpose?” Danny blurs out and Mark, he tries to speak but fails.

“No, Danny.” Caleb chokes out. “She was talking to us and then she asked if she can come home and then we heard a scream and the other car ram her side…”

----

“Y/N, Y/L/N? I got a call, I’m her…” Swallowing hard Jared looks around the hospital. “Boss…no…boyfriend…I…” Panting Jared finally sees Jensen and runs toward his friend, roses in his hands. “Where is she? I got a call…Jensen?”

Jared’s face feels pain a second later as Mark’s fist collides with his left eye. Another punch hits him, this time it’s Caleb breaking one rib before Brad takes matters in his hands and lands another punch to Jared’s jaw.

“I’ll kill you! If my sister dies you are dead, asshole! I know what you did to her! You piece of shit.” Brad needs to hold Mark back, knowing your eldest brother always was closer to you than anyone else.

“After all she’s been through thanks to Scott you come around and destroy all she rebuilt!”

“Get out of here!” Caleb finally finds his voice. “You are not wanted here. Leave and never dare to say her name. You got hurt…boohoo, asshole. My sister got almost beaten to death, lost her baby and got raped by the man she loved…still she tried to help you piece of shit…”

Jared pants heavily, not due to the physical pain, but the realization you had an even shittier past than he had. “I didn't know…” He chokes out but Mark is unimpressed.

“If you want to keep on breathing, leave the hospital and never come back…” Jensen jumps up, not to stop your brothers but to shove his friend away.

“Go, Jared.” Glancing at Jensen and Danny, Jared swallows hard.

“I never wanted to hurt her. I found out about her identity and…”

“We don’t care about your lousy explanations, you piece of shit! Y/N tried to help you and fell in love. You could’ve fired her, not use her to make sure the trauma of being used and treated like she’s worthless comes crashing down on her once again.”

Mark has murder in his eyes as the doctor finally comes to tell your brothers about your condition.

“She’s stable, for now. She has several broken ribs, a broken arm, and a concussion. We are waiting for her to wake up, but so far she didn’t…” The doctor explains. “We run a few tests but you can visit her in half an hour.”

“Thank you, doctor…” Caleb shakes the doctor’s hand, waiting for him to leave before he tries to stop his brother but Mark is ready to kill Jared.

“I’ll count to three and then I’m going to rip you into pieces…” Mark’s eyes darken but Jared won’t budge.

“I will catch hell if I have to but I can’t leave her now…”

SPN Forever Tags

@donnaintx, @screechingartisancashbailiff, @fallen-wolf22, @sister-winchesters99, @mogaruke, @the-is13, @helloitsmeamie203, @strayrosesbloom, @thewinchesterco, @hobby27, @kittycatlover18, @gh0stgurl, @marvelfansworld , @sandlee44, @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt, @katpatrova17, @notyourtypicalrose , @heyitscam99, @flamencodiva, @echoesofpassion, @cocklesbelli, @voltage-my2dlove, @fandom-princess-forevermore @thenamelesschibi, @lauravic, @fandomsrourlives, @wittysunflower, @drakelover78, @lemondropirwin, @lonewolf471, @wronglanemendes, @spnhollis, @void-imaginations, @jay-and-dean, @shatteredabby, @juniorhuntersam, @helpmeluci, @neii3n, @goodgodimaweirdperson, @alltimesamantha, @chonisberonica, @supernaturalonice, @stuckys-whore, @shadowkat-83, @officialmarvelwhore, @wecantgiggleitsafandom, @meganywinchester, @shikshinkwon, @miraclesoflove, @yolobloggers, @lu-sullivan, @maniacproffesor, @hollymac79, @straycuties9, @kayla-2000, @ilovefanfic86, @gracefultrenchcoat494, @babygirls-fav, @spnwoman, @amiquette, @linki-locks11, @geekofmanyforms, @eggingamazinglove, @jessica-marsh09, @spnficgirl, @shut-themoonscone, @thequeenreaders, @countrygal17a, @kteelou, @soryuwifeyxx, @kricketc28, @atomicfandombomb, @defenderrosetyler, @shortwinchester, @maybesomedaygayyyy, @tmiships4life, @deanmonandnegansbitch, @exo-nova, @laxe-from-outer-space, @sabascio, @that-place-called-middle-earth, @the-broken-angel-13, @bunnybaby89, @pandabiiissh, @maddiedott, @fandom-imagines1, @lilulo-12, @theoneandonlymelol, @mblaqgi, @sea040561, @clawsandshotguns, @justsomedreaming , @differentstudentrunawaysposts, @hhiggs, @deepmuffinspymaker, @certaindeanwinchesterforcastiel, @cassiopeia-barrow, @mep6811, @jo-like-josette, @supernaturalenchanted, @mscarter213, @trumpettay, @waywardbaby, @its-the-timey-wimey-winchesters, @zxph-yr, @i-love-superhero

Sam/Jared Forever Tags

@moosekateer13, @thevelvetseries

Devils Bargain

@bitchwhytho, @babygirls-fav, @the-soulofdevil, @albinotigerpython, @squirrelnotsam, @i-am-a-mes, @aubageddon91, @jessiejunebug, @thebooksoverthemovies

#spn #spn fanfiction #angst #betrayal #smut #devils bargain masterlist #rpf #rpf fanfic #spn rpf #Jensen Ackles #danneel ackles #Jensen x Danneel #Jared Padalecki #jared padalecki fanfiction #jared padalecki x reader #jared padalecki x you #jared x reader #jared x you #jared x y/n

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theangelwithashotgun8 · 4 years

Text

Even MORE FAHC BS!

A continuation of this but you don’t gotta read that to understand this. Basically a look at Ryan and Gav’s relationship is, apparently, my newest FAHC AU

"This is Gavin." His new boss had said as he plopped a toddler in his arms, "You're his new bodyguard."

If Ryan was being honest, he'd taken up Ramsey's offer because he had nothing else going for him. Very few people were willing to take on the quiet, creepy, kid who looks like he was too young to be on the streets. Being a glorified babysitter is not the kind of job Ryan thought would be what gets him out of sleeping in alleyways or behind dumpsters, but he's that special kind of desperate so he just hefts the toddler onto his hip and nods.

He doesn't actually have to do much at first. Jack and Geoff are very involved fathers, often sitting on the floor for "tummy time" as they encourage their son to speak. Ryan doesn't know how hardened criminals like them came across a baby of all things, one that doesn't look a thing like them, but he tries not to think about it. Gavin is a happy and healthy kid, that's as good as it's gonna get.

But things get progressively harder whenever they go out. Gavin doesn't like his stroller, will scream bloody murder the second he goes anywhere near it, so Ryan is usually left carrying him or holding his hand as they walk. Turns out, Geoff has a lot of enemies and all of them want him and his family dead. Jack can hold his own, but Gavin is a literal baby and can't do much.

Ryan has always been okay with violence, had bloodied his own knuckles to protect his own and he's quick to react to threats. He's young, barely out of his teens, but he's vicious and ruthless and does it all with a smile on his face and Gavin on his hip. No one touches the kid when Ryan's around.

It’s been a year since Ryan moved in and Gavin still won’t speak. He babbles a lot, blows spit bubbles, and ecstatically points or walks over to the thing or person he wants.

But he won’t talk.

Geoff and Jack are in a mad race to get their son to say their name first. It usually involves bribery of the highest form, but it never works.

A small part of Ryan thinks he shouldn’t care, he’s just supposed to keep the kid safe, but he’s grown… Fond of the small family that took him in. So he comes home form the library with at least 10 different parenting books, all of them saying that children will speak when they’re ready.

“So you’re gonna talk when you’re ready, huh squirt?”

And Gavin, fist jammed in his mouth, blinks up at him with innocent eyes before giggling. He waves his spit covered hand around in excitement and says,

“Rye! Rye!”

The entire apartment goes silent at that. Had he? Did he just?

“Rye! Rye!”

Ryan cries as he scoops the toddler into his arms and though he threatens dismemberment if that fact ever gets out, Jack and Geoff can’t find it in themselves to really believe him.

Gavin is four.

It’s Jack’s birthday soon and Ryan is standing in the middle of Macy’s with Gavin perched on his hip as he scans the rows of handbags and necklaces. Right now the little monster is content to chew on his fingers and tug Ryan’s hair.

Jack had recently started her physical transition, now that they had the funds for surgeries she decided to bite the bullet and go for it, and he wanted to be supportive of her. Hence, staring at handbags and jewelry and wondering why he never thought to ask Jack what her favorite color was.

On his hip Gavin squeaks and slaps his hand on Ryan’s face.

“Okay, that’s it.” He says as he places the four year old on the ground, “You have legs. Use them.”

He still takes Gavin’s hand to make sure the curious boy doesn’t wonder off, “We’re buying a gift for mommy. What do you think she’d like?”

For a moment he thought the kid wouldn’t answer, but then he pointed at a display case and Ryan laid eyes on a gold necklace with green gems arranged like laurel leaves. It was simple, pretty, and would look nice against the dress she bought for herself last Christmas. If she and Geoff went out on a date it would be perfect.

“Good taste, Gav.” He said as they walked over to the case and politely asked for it.

He knows he still looks young, that the baby at his feet doesn’t help that image, but this is Los Santos and fuck if retail workers don’t already see too much weird shit. The cashier doesn’t even hesitate, just tells him the price and doesn’t bat an eye when he pays in cash.

All she asks is, “Do you want that wrapped?”

As they’re walking home Ryan knows they’re being followed. They aren’t subtle about it, not in the slightest, and Ryan feels more irritated than scared. Gavin starts to sing some stupid song he heard on Blue’s Clues and it’s then that Ryan feels a trace amount of fear. He tries to shake them, but what they lack in stealth they make up for in persistence. He’ll have to take them out then.

He turns to a parking structure that’s empty and surrounded by construction cones. The upper levels are unstable, but the city’s workers are stretched too thin and it’s sat abandoned for months. It’s the perfect spot for a confrontation. He rushes to hid Gavin near a part of the cement wall that’s fallen away. It’s a tight squeeze but Gavin is small for his age, he’ll be safe, out of the way, and out of sight.

“Stay here, okay? Don’t come out until I come to get you, don’t make any noise, and don’t look.”

“Is this real?” It’s their special code for when things are very serious and Gavin needs to be quiet.

Ryan nods as he tucks Jack’s present into his arms, “Very real. Hold onto this and don’t let go, okay?”

“Okay.”

When they come for him, Ryan is ready.

A part of him used to wonder if he should worry about how easily he kills, at how much sick joy he finds in feeling sticky blood on his fingers, but whatever innocence he had is gone now and he doesn’t worry at all. It scares Geoff and Jack, sometimes, at how efficient he is at his job, at how calm he is when the slaughter begins, at how effective his torture methods are. Sometimes he causes pain just to cause pain and that concerns and frightens them, just a bit, but they love him and how good he is with Gavin so they keep quite about it. They aren’t angels, they won’t try to act like them.

When he’s done there’s little left of the damn thugs. With their entrails and squares of skin thrown here and there the parking structure has turned into a macabre mural. He’ll have to come back later to burn the whole place down. They had screamed, but no one bats an eye at that anymore in Los Santos, he has time to hide the evidence.

He looks at himself, at the jacket stained with blood, at the boots that are sticky with things he doesn’t want to think about, and decides he should be cleaner about it next time. He shrugs off the jacket, wipes his hands off with the cleaner insides, and throws it somewhere he doesn’t care about as he turns to the crevice where he hid Gavin-

And he froze.

Gavin stood there, in full view, staring around him with wide eyes. Ryan closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He doesn’t mind that Geoff and Jack are scared of him, but Gavin… Gavin is different. He’s had the kid on his hip since day one, he’d changed his diapers and argued with him to eat his vegetables. They watched cartoons on Sunday together and giggled whenever Ryan made a funny face at him. He was the one person in the world not scared of him, and now he’d ruined that.

When he opens his eyes agin Gavin is still standing there, but… But he isn’t scared. He looks curious, a little grossed out, but not scared. He’s still looking at Ryan like he always has and a part of Ryan wonders if he should be concerned with that, but he’s too thankful to think about it too much.

Ryan walks over and kneels down so he can see Gavin eye to eye. The boy blinks up at him and then gives him a blinding smile. Ryan reaches out his hand and without hesitation Gavin takes it into his own.

Jack loves the necklace, and hugs both of them close, “My good boys.” She says and Ryan’s chest fills with warmth.

Gavin has just learned how to climb a tree when someone manages to sneak past his guardians. A loud shot rings through the forest. It doesn’t hit, but it scares the boy so much that falls from the branch he was perched on. They had all moved too slow and now their boy has a broken arm. The second Ryan reaches Gavin he throws himself over the younger boy, rears back, and fires into the trees where the bullet came from.

A body falls, limp and useless, to the floor. They don’t even bother finding out who he is, who he works for, because Gavin is more important.

At the hospital Gavin clings to Ryan, sniffling miserably at the doctor who sets his arm and places it in a cast. It was a clean break, she says, it’s a good thing they brought him as soon as the did.

“It’s Summer.” She assures the adults because all three of them are shaking like leaves, “Lots of kids get into things they shouldn’t. You aren’t the only ones who brought in an injured kid.”

She doesn’t know that someone managed to sneak past them, had known they were heading out into the woods for a picnic, had known exactly where to hide. Someone had known what they were doing.

Geoff manages to thank her. That night they pack up the house and Geoff uproots them to England. He hadn’t even asked Ryan if he wanted to go with them, had just told him to pack up his shit and be in the car in an hour.

Ryan was family now, he wasn’t going anywhere.

Gavin takes to England like a duck to water. He’s adapted to the lingo in a way his guardians haven’t quite figured out and he even has a strong Oxford accent.

He’s also now 14 and an absolute menace.

“It’s just a movie with my friends!”

“And I’m saying that you can go, but Ryan needs to go with you.”

And Gavin, honest to God, stomps his foot. Even in England, so far from the influence and notoriety Geoff had built for himself, Geoff is not someone to be messed with. The only one who can act so casually towards him is an annoying twig of a teenager who looks two seconds away from either crying or throwing a fist.

“I’m fourteen, Geoffrey! I can take care of myself!”

“You can barely lift the milk jug you asshole!”

Ryan thinks that now might be a good time to intervene. Usually Jack keeps the two of them in line, but she’s at the store and so it’s left to Ryan to be civil.

“Look.” He says, drawing attention to him, “Gav, you know that Geoff is right.”

“But-“

“And Geoff knows that you’re old enough to go to a movie by yourself.” He takes a deep breath, “So. We’re going to compromise. I will drop you off at the theater. None of your friends will see me, I promise, and I’ll go see something else at the same time. Does that sound fair to the two of you? I’ll be close enough if something goes wrong and Gavin still gets independence.”.

Neither of them are too happy with it, but they take it. Gavin comes home without a scratch and Geoff breathes a little easier.

Gavin grows up, he graduates from high school and no one knows who cries more Ryan or Geoff.

Shortly after Gavin’s 19th birthday they move back to Los Santos.

Ryan has changed, has finally grown into himself and cuts an intimidating figure. There are whispers in the street calling him Vagabond. The city learns to fear his black skull mask as much as they fear Geoff.

Gavin hates being useless and asks Jack to teach him to fly and Geoff how to drive. He asks Ryan to teach him to fight. Despite his sporadic methods, Gavin is actually a skilled pilot and Jack beams with pride, even though he’s a dunce with cars and hand to hand combat. His first experiment with throwing knives destroyed a lamp and Geoff has since banned him from trying it.

He’s on surer footing with long distance weapons, but he’s more talented with his words.

Gavin has been weaseling things out of them since he could talk, and for a while they all thought they gave in because it’s Gavin and despite it all he’s their kid and they love him. Except it works with complete strangers, with just a word or two Gavin is conning people for everything they’ve got: money, possessions, sympathy… You name it, he can take it.

Geoff tries him out as a front man for a negotiation with some up and comer who’s getting too close to Geoff’s territory. Gavin smirks his way through the meeting and he doesn’t just take what he wants, he talks until the other man is gladly giving everything they want to them on a silver tray.

Gavin is good, very good, and he’s a bit vain with that knowledge. It all goes fine, until he tries it on an older mob boss, one with more reach and influence, and the older man just laughs and pats Gavin on the head. They all bristle at that but he just smiles.

“You are good. But your eyes cannot lie.”

He takes to wearing sunglasses after that.

Slowly Gavin starts to change his look. His hair gets dyed blonde and styled with gel, he keeps his nails trimmed and buffed. He drapes himself in gold and wears button ups and skinny jeans to all his meetings. His smirk never falls.

And then one day it does.

Ryan’s been doing this for a long time, but getting shot still sucks. He hisses and drops to his knee, glaring through his mask at the assholes who have him surrounded.

“The mighty Vagabond. On his knees before me.”

“Oh fuck off and kill me already.”

The blow never comes. Blood sprays from the head honcho’s mouth and Ryan blinks, stunned, as he tumbles forward, an arrow stuck in his head.

What the fuck?

There’s chaos all around as, one by one, gang members drop like flies, each with a green shafted bolt in their heads. Gavin steps out from the shadows, glasses gleaming in the last as he flips his hair out of his eyes. In his arms is a crossbow, one he’d bought last week as a joke, and Ryan feels like his brain is running a marathon.

Gavin’s trademark smirk, the one that makes Los Santos gulp because they’re going to lose something and they can only hope it’s money and not something they actually care about, but now… Now Gavin is frowning as he drops the crossbow, uncaring of the clatter it makes, and he kicks a corpse out of his way as he crouches down to Ryan’s level.

“Are you okay?”

He’s never seen this Gavin before, the one who kills easily and so… Abruptly.

But then Gavin pushes up those sunglasses and he sees those hazel eyes looking at him the way he always has and Ryan’s heart melts. Gavin blinks once, twice, and then his mouth turns up into a blinding smile.

Gavin reaches out his hand and without hesitation Ryan takes it into his own.

#Fake AH Crew #FAHC #FAHC Gavin #FAHC Ryan #Fake AH Crew Gavin #Fake AH Crew Ryan

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deviant3lover · 5 years

Text

Personal Headcanons for the Trio

On a rare spark of inspiration, I’ve decided to compile my list of headcanons for the Trio for you all to look at if you’re interested. :)

I tried my best to make them rooted in canon so that they may be plausible while still allowing me to indulge. ;)

Putting this under Read More because boy, it is long.

Metal Bat/Badd

- From my asks to @atinychai, Badd likes traditionally masculine things because it makes him feel empowered and keeps most people away. He shows almost all the traits: being into sports, working out, being fierce and intimidating… all except for being attracted to women. (Came as a real shock to him too: his team often found girls cute but Badd couldn’t help but notice that some guys were pretty hot and nobody pointed it out. Doubly so because he loves the thought of being married one day and none of the ladies appealed to him.)

- Very straightforward thinker, but unlike Genos, he isn’t completely tactless or over the top with it. His thought process focuses on what needs to be done, what is needed to do it, and to do it ASAP. Considerations are taken into account, such as what would happen if he doesn’t do it right or in a certain way. This is especially good for him since he’s a busy guy even by S-Class standards, but it does leave him vulnerable to not thinking through long term plans that well.

- The most empathetic and physically affectionate of the three. He keeps his tough look on him in public and in private, but he’s one of the first people to offer to hug it out if you’re breaking down.

(Obviously where no one can see it: that’s embarrassing on you and would attract too much unwanted attention to him, so he makes sure there’s no one watching. If there is, he’ll clap you on the shoulder, look you in the eye, and offer some advice and encouragement.)

Young boys and teenagers look up to him, and they usually feel better about crying into his shirt when Badd tells them how hard it was to stop himself from bursting into tears at his first loss in a match, or when he was trying to keep quiet for Zenko’s sake at her recital.

- Continuing on that note, he keeps a nice relationship with some of his sporty fans. Not anything too intensive, but he’ll keep track of the boys who come to him asking him what he was like on his baseball team, what to do if there’s infighting in their group, which ones are worried about their baseball matches and he gives them a proud congrats if they win, or a consolation + inspiration to do better next time if they lost.

- When he’s not blinded by anger, Badd’s surprisingly pretty adept at being a social expert. His experiences of being on the baseball team + hanging out with problem students like him has given Badd a pretty good perspective on both the popular kids and the hated, loner kids, as well as what they’re going through. As a result, he’s usually well received by them. Feels a little embarrassed and uncomfortable around smart kids though, especially when they explain something that sounds a little complicated to him.

- Back in his younger days prior to all the responsibilities piled on top of him, Badd was a pretty good leader for his baseball team. He checked in regularly with his team mates, their equipment, their training regimens, and their upcoming opponents. He helped some of his team mates with confidence issues, and made sure to keep in check with how they’re doing to prevent in-team fighting. All-star baseball team in their region for sure. :3

- In the future, I imagine that Badd might take up some boxing after taking a hint from all the times monsters knocked his bat out of his hands away from him. Lost his weapon? He’ll use his fists until he can get it back again, and he’ll use them well. Turns out loves the sport, but baseball will always have a special place in his heart.

- He empathizes easily with people experiencing stress; he goes through that daily with everything he has to take care of- but he’s more clueless with issues such as mental illness. Badd’s a little insensitive about it, sometimes suggesting things to take care of it which don’t work, but he’s trying his best to understand what someone is going through and knows enough to know that it isn’t something that can’t be solved by blowing off steam or cutting off some bad things in your life. Gets pissed off if someone dismisses it as ‘something that’s all in their head’ or ‘they’re crazy’ and will confront them. Forcing apologies out of the offender isn’t out of the question. Might want to stop him before he gets too pissed off.

- Like you’d expect, he’s a pretty big fan of sports, but in a more casual way. He likes hearing about his favorite athletes, training regimens, and certain meals/diets that helped stars to build up/maintain their strength and skill, but doesn’t obsessively get himself involved in the subject. On a more sentimental note, Badd finds some solace with famous athletes because they had to work hard to get where they needed to be, and on top of that, have to deal with the pressures that come with their popularity; whether they like it or not.

- Despite not having much time to cultivate attention to honing his skill and interest in cooking, he loves Gordon Ramsay. Seeing him rip entitled, spoiled people apart with words alone and gently encouraging + teaching kids has him placed high on Badd’s list of celebrities that he respects.

- Badd is a Closeted Romantic and a Family Man. Always found it touching where in some old action/thriller films, the male married lead thinks about his wife and kids back home and tells himself that he shouldn’t die, powering through the pain/adversity to get back to them. At some point it shifted to him liking some intense drama/action movie focusing on romance where the couple race against time to get to each other before it’s too late. The idea that someone you love and treat as an equal might actually be gone forever really gets him, and if done right, he’ll cry.

- Cannot, for the love of him, focus well on books. He’s literate, but he always wants to get to the most important stuff, often skimming over details that might be important later on. This is also evident in how he writes, explaining something simply and to the point, which makes him pretty good at teaching kids basic, simplified concepts, but not so good at constructing incredibly thought out and nuanced writing. Books and audio books just aren’t immersive to him. Consequently, English is one of his worst subjects in school, and he often has to rely on online notes and essay examples to help him out.

- Extending on that, I imagine him to be a kinaesthetic/visual learner. He was born with amazing dynamic vision after all. (Under ‘Fighting Style: Keen Perception.’)

- Loves American action movies, but they’ll have to be really well made for him to remember a specific one. If you asked him about his favorite action scenes, he’ll describe it, but more often than not, he won’t remember the movie’s name unless you gave him some clues.

- (Inspired by this fanfic.) His mother died in a monster attack just moments after giving birth to Zenko. Badd used to love and respect his father, but her death lead to him spiraling down to alcohol abuse and neglect due to his grief, leading to his broken pedestal status in his son’s eyes. Badd’s still bitter over it when he thinks about it, saying that his ‘old man nursed his bottle like it was his new kid’ instead of being there for him and Zenko. Caught between poor grades in school, a rough home life, and a baby sister he didn’t know how to take care of, Badd had to convince himself that he needed to be twice the man his father is, and ever was, to get through the worst of what life had to throw at him.

- No matter how hard he tries, he still loves his father, and wants to see him endeavor to become better again. But the combined grief of seeing him crumble and give up on himself, the bitterness over his dad failing to be there for him when he needed it the most, and the anger over how seemingly self-absorbed he was in with his booze and watching the static on the TV when Badd was struggling to cope, makes him force the thought of reconciling out of his mind. Badd forces himself to be outwardly angry over what happened to avoid the conflicted feelings he has over the man he used to see as his hero.

- That being said, if you know what his father used to mean to him, you’ll see subtle signs that while Badd can’t forgive, he had never forgotten him. His father was a big sports fan too, and taught him how to properly hit a baseball. If you knew what he taught and looked closely when Badd fights or does some swings, you’ll see that the tips and tricks that he taught his son has never left him.

- Wanted to get a dog because he thought they were cool, but realized he wouldn’t have enough time for it. Begrudgingly got a cat for him and Zenko after she picked one out. He expected it to be the widespread stereotype for cats: cold, mean, and ruins your stuff… and then he saw how lovable and sweet it was and fell in love. That cat is Tama.

- Hates horror films because some of them remind him of the fact that monsters can manifest for the stupidest reasons, anywhere, anytime. It gets him worked up and restless because anything can happen, and the fact that some monsters in the past had tried to target Zenko to lure him out doesn’t make him feel any better.

- When he’s sick/injured, he sleeps. A lot. A very heavy sleeper; expect snores and heavy eyelids. Seriously, this guy is practically stuck in either Stage 4 NREM or REM sleep until severe injuries heal quite a bit, and germs making him sick are killed off.

- Does not take kindly to anyone calling him weak or stupid. Despite getting angry easily, he’s very resilient (emotionally and mentally.) He knows from experience that if he can’t resolve it quickly, it’s best to put it on the backburner until the opportunity arrives where he can, and does his best to blow off steam in the meantime. He’s not that smart academically and he knows it, but it’s still a berserk button you should stay away from because while he’ll never admit it, it hurts him to know that despite forcing himself to attend school so that he can build a future for himself and Zenko outside of hero work, he’s still failing at getting the grades he needs.

- Expanding on that, he’s smart, but it’s more akin to Saitama’s words of wisdom than eloquent, polished reasoning and beliefs; straightforward and inspiring in a simple way that leaves no room for misinterpretation.

- Don’t let him play video games. Especially rage inducing ones like Cuphead. He will crush the controller and wonder why his character isn’t responding mid-game. The keys on the keyboard are smashed in. There are cracks on the area around the buttons. There’s a Wii remote sticking out of a wall after a frustrating defeat and the wrist strap wasn’t securely fastened.

Garou

- He likes athletic wear better than punk styles. They’re easier to put on and move in, whilst the leather from some punk clothes heats up too much/gets too stiff for his liking.

- Hates being restrained. Sometimes, on a very, very rare occasion, it can be interpreted as him being scared of the idea since he lashes out pretty angrily at it. Garou had been held down and beaten up by bullies twice, pinned against a tree and choked by Genos before escaping his blast by the skin of his teeth, and then was implied to be chained up and tortured/punished for his insolence against the MA in their torture room. He’s strong enough to escape most bindings, but he will be on edge if he feels like he can’t get out of them. If you play your cards right, his attack patterns will lack their usual cunning and be more animalistic.

- He’ll eat almost any kind of food except for sweets. It’s too sugary for him, leads to a crash later on, isn’t sustainable, and it doesn’t offer much nutritional value to him either, so he steers clear of them if he can help it. The odd exception are energy drinks. The sugary taste isn’t something he exactly likes, but Garou loves the immediate rush that kicks in soon after drinking them; the slight burn on his tongue from carbonated drinks such as coca cola is a plus.

- Loves the thrill of the challenge of almost any sort. The excitement comes from giving it his all and not knowing for sure how things will turn out; if he won, that’s another trophy to him. If he lost, he relishes in a milestone he has to beat and loves the idea that there’s still room for improvement. Winning or losing too much tends to be boring for him, and he’ll abandon it if he sees no way to rectify it.

- When he’s sick or injured, he’s a restless sleeper; it’s hard for him to get the proper hours that he needs. He drifts in and out of sleeping and waking, usually sleeping a few hours at best before waking up for 10 minutes and falling back to sleep. Being attacked while vulnerable, in places with little means of defense or shelter is a pretty good plan for monsters/bigshots who want his head and he knows it. One of the places he can sleep more peacefully at is Bang’s Dojo, but he hasn’t been back there for some time now.

- Tsundere. Not necessarily the blushy ‘I-it’s not like I like you, b-baka!!’ sort of way, but he’s a more subdued tsundere. He’ll come off as mean spirited at times, but the most reliable way of knowing he loves and cares about his loved ones is when they’re being threatened; he’ll rough up the threat so they won’t get any funny ideas in the future.

- Is Russian-French, with some (suspected) Norwegian in there. Is generally a European mutt who takes a keen interest in Asian culture, especially those that developed sick martial arts and/or those who have interesting, complex histories; however, Garou isn’t as interested in wars and political intrigue as he is in weird, clever, and hilarious events and hijinks that sound too surreal to be true… like Zhao Yun's army being outnumbered by the enemy, retreating, and him choosing to make their fortress look empty so that his enemies get suspicious, thinking that it was an ambush and withdrawing... before launching an attack on them, killing off his enemy's army by inciting chaos. (E.g. Some of them got trampled, others fell into a river and drowned.) He won.

- Continuing off of that, he generally regards European history with distaste due to how... unkind, some of them are.

- (God, I love @the-goddessfighter‘s headcanons for Garou’s parents, so honestly? I’m all for this being 100% canon. Murata or ONE, make it happen. In my eyes, this is as good as you possibly can get with Garou’s backstory.)

Check out her tumblr for her OC’s for Garou’s parents! (Although I do headcanon Toru as a more neglectful father who didn’t care much for Garou, if at all. He didn’t sugarcoat his words to him nor try to comfort his son.)

- Prefers black/white/grey/neutral colors for his clothes, if only to avoid people saying that the colors clash and that he looks like a fashion disaster.

- It’s an unconscious move on his part, and while he usually has impeccable control over his power, sometimes his fingers feel like they’re jabbing you when he’s distracted. Especially when he grabs or hugs you. Sometimes, there are some small bruises where they’ve dug in a little forcefully. When he’s feeling affectionate or sentimental and you’re his lover, he traces over your skin, and it’s a contrasting mix between the calloused, rough textures from the fingers, and smooth, fluid movements that slide like water. It’s a distinct Garou feature, and whether you love it or hate it depends on your tastes.

Genos/Demon Cyborg

- Doesn’t care too much about his popularity, but acknowledges the work that his fans put in when it comes to promoting his work and what little information he shares that others will pick up on. E.g. He doesn’t like to be bothered when he’s busy/with that bald guy, but otherwise is OK with signing a few autographs and shaking hands, he avoids certain obnoxious fangirls, he hates it when there’s a group and they crowd him, etc.

- Despite appreciating this info circulating so that some fans are more mindful about how they interact with him, he’s one of the hardest heroes to connect with due to how cold, closed off, busy, and/or socially awkward he may be. Not that many of his fans mind, as it feeds into the mysterious ‘Cyborg Prince’ fantasy that’s popular in his fan base.

- Thinks that Nice Guys/GirlsTM and people who use ‘I’m an Alpha, those betas/omegas can suck it’ are pathetic. At best. He thinks that they’re compensating for something instead of actually trying to improve themselves: for the latter, the added weight of using a disproved scientific theory makes him lose respect for them even more.

- He has a certain amount of fondness for fauna and flora. Prior to meeting Saitama, he’s had to travel long distances in search of the Mad Cyborg, and more often than not, company is fleeting, leaving him alone most of the time. Flowers by the side of the path, blue skies, the sound of chirping birds, or even some berries with rainwater droplets on them are familiar, nice sights that put him at ease. Some of his notebooks outside of taking notes on Saitama have hand drawn illustrations and notes on some plants he’s encountered, as well as their various uses.

- Conversely, barren cities will put him on high alert. Buildings act as great hiding spots, and Genos isn’t a stranger to being ambushed by monsters and criminals alike. (His eyes can be a great asset in these situations; scanning for threats and movements can give him a heads up on how dangerous the area is.)

- His sense of humor is pretty dark, if not outright sadistic at times; especially towards the people he hates. Otherwise, he likes making (mostly. Key word is mostly) harmless jabs and teases at those he loves because he finds it funny when the other person gets riled up/flustered. His tone and expressions don’t change (most of the time) when he makes them though, making it hard for others to know whether or not he’s joking until he clarifies on the matter.

- Hates those who spread misinformation about medicine, or demonizes scientists. He cares about keeping the public safe, and admires/respects science for everything it’s discovered for the sake of humanity: people such as those are a direct attack on both.

- Though on the outside he takes even the most inconsequential things seriously, to the point where he’s gullible and too honest to lie, he keeps his more solemn thoughts to himself and ingrains them at the back of his mind so that he’ll never forget them. His notebooks don’t hint at them even existing. The only way you’ll ever get to hear them is when you directly attack something he holds very dear to him (beliefs, values, aspirations) so that he may fiercely (and furiously) defend them. He berated Saitama for seemingly making a joke at his expense, but he was somewhat more lenient since he knew that Saitama wielded the power he needed. He won’t be nearly as nice if you’re not someone he likes or respects, so it’s a sure-fire way to get onto his blacklist.

- Is German-Japanese. German father, Japanese mother, though a lot of people mistake him for being fully German thanks to his looks. He understands some parts of the language, but isn’t fluent in speaking it. Japanese he’s fully fluent in, and English is getting to that point as well.

- He doesn’t usually use pet names if he gets a lover, but if he’s fallen in love hard, they get sort of ridiculous and a little cheesy. ‘My beloved’ and ‘darling’ are the most modest ones, but you’ll have to stop him from going after extremely specific and loving nicknames because they blur the line between being hilarious and embarrassing.

- Awesome at stake outs, and often keeps a first aid kit handy in his temporary bases (in the case of civilian injury) alongside a repair kit for himself. Genos is incredibly well prepared just from the equipment he has inside them, but unlike other matters (such as learning how to fold clothes efficiently and going taking it far too seriously), Genos shows pretty good judgment in how he sets them up. He doesn’t take more than what’s needed, and prepares some emergency supplies just in case there’s a new development and he needs to stay a bit longer. He’s learned from experience that taking too many things for them makes it harder for him to clear his tracks, and in return, the enemy (or enemies) that he’s been keeping an eye on might catch onto the fact that they’re being watched, making it harder for him to discover new information.

Shared Traits & Other Bits

- The no-brainer: you will get intimidated into fleeing if you mess with them. Things may get physical if you target their family/loved ones. Injuries vary depending on level of apologetic attitude, how much of a threat you pose, how far you’ve pushed things, etc. Best case scenario is that you flee the scene with no injuries, but scared out of your mind.

- Badd and Genos use the same nickname for their lover: ‘Darling.’ Although Badd will say it as ‘Darlin’’ instead. Other than that, their nicknames are fairly different, with Badd going for things such as ‘sweet cheeks,’ ‘babe,’ and ‘sweetheart.’

- Both Genos and Garou have the tendency to mess with people for their own amusement. Garou comes in the form of taunting and goading, whilst Genos likes to make underhanded comments and jokes that will infuriate you.

- Genos and Garou like books. Genos however, is more introverted and will share his knowledge more thoroughly when prompted by someone who needs it. Garou being Garou, you wouldn’t even know he was into reading until he offhandedly mentions a bit of knowledge from a book he read. Odds are you won’t have time to ask him if he knows how to do x because he would have already gotten up to do it before you can open your mouth. This occurrence is far more common in emergencies.

- Genos doesn’t take any visible joy in fighting. He sees monsters as a threat to society that must be eliminated quickly and effectively. Badd used to enjoy throwing himself into battles and coming out of them victorious, but thanks to time and HA’s obligations, he sees monsters as destructive assholes getting in his way and creating more work for him when he’d rather come home to catch up on other things on the forefront of his mind. Garou loves fighting, the challenge- but it has diminished by a notable amount after his webcomic arc as he’s reflecting on what he needs and wants to do now. Despite this, he usually keeps his eye out for any interesting challenges, if only to distract himself.

- Slightly digressing from the Trio: Zenko shares the burden of taking on responsibilities with Badd, though he doesn’t know they exist. She’s aware of the fact that her brother isn’t living a normal teenage life and is bothered by the fact that he can’t act like his own age most of the time, making her want to be headstrong, capable, and independent soon so he doesn’t have to worry about her. At the same time, she knows that there aren’t many heroes his age that he can get along with, so she tries to fill in that hole by spending time with him while finding heroes she likes, and hopefully her brother will like- the reason being is that hopefully, Badd will make friends with them, and she can meet her idol often! It’s part of the reason why she was so insistent in having him obtain AM’s signature.

- Genos can sing, but sometimes struggles with singing with enough emotion in his lyrics. Garou can sing pretty well, (and sings almost every Disney villain song like a champ) but he’d be resistant to others goading him into it. He’s pretty uncomfortable at the notion that he’d have to sing in front of people. Badd can… sing, but he’s best at singing the lullabies he sung to a baby Zenko- songs that get him into it can have him be really, really into it; to the point where it’s almost embarrassing to watch. He’s pretty good at rap/singing more sentimental pieces such as this:

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#opm #genos #badd #metal bat #garou #shitty teen squad #hellion trio #zenko #headcanons

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lucastheunlucky · 4 years

Text

Timshel; Salva, Gotch, Lucas

Location: Downtown, few streets from Luke’s Apartment Time: Late Evening; 5/28 Triggers: gore, body horror @drunk-and-howling

Summary: It's been a little over three weeks since the arrest and attack against Luke at the precinct. The pack has set up a lot of precautions to keep him with backup, but this week has limited participation from the pack. With Winn missing and steering a lot of the attention to his whereabouts, and Luke staying in his apartment full time, and life, in general, moving on as expected. The patient hunter, Ivor Gotch, has found an opportunity to set up an attempted snatch involving a small crew of people and special weapons. Salva, without telling anyone, has filled a gap in the patrol; knowing Ivor won’t stop.

Salva is right and he finds him.

Ivor Gotch was outside a bar, across from a bus station, wearing a long leather jacket that barely hid the shotgun tucked under his arm and secured to his back. His broken arm wrapped up in a sling, but the hunter didn’t seem put off by it. The man was staring at his phone with a strange intensity. Four other people sat on the benches, lounging around, and looked up when they weren’t alone. The hair on his arms raised, and his eyes lifted from the bright screen.

“So you are in town,” the words spoke like Ivor already knew, though with a frustrated edge to it. Gray eyes drifted over to the wolf, cold and calculating. “Must we do this all over again? How poorly it ends every time for you. Do you really want to involve yourself in my business?”

Salva prowled closer to Ivor, his body language stiff, but hands still kept rather casually in the pockets of his bomber jacket. "Naturally," the werewolf answered, and his voice was barely human... in it was such a rumbling growl that an unpracticed ear would doubt if he was even speaking English, like car tires rolling over gravel. Scenting the hunter after all this time gave him such a violent bloodlust that he felt light-headed, and his body was alive with phantom pains of their past encounters, but somehow he managed to keep it under control.

"Give me one reason I shouldn't tear your throat out with my bare hands, right here."

“Because we both know under all this snarling-- you have proved you are weak against me.”

Ivor laughed a cold chuckle, pulling a cigar to his lips with a deep pull and puff of smoke as if hinting to all their past altercations and breaking even often. Ivor pointed the cigar lightly towards him while he spoke. “We don’t care if you kill others. Hunting families never liked bothering with us. Yet you still want to cause us problems. Over and over.” A tsk clicked the man's tongue like he was reprimanding a child, and the four people around actually chuckled lightly, but didn’t look as confident as the man speaking.

“I will warn you one more time Salva, stay out of this.”

With anyone else, Salva would have been goaded into action long ago, but this was a different story. This hunter had nearly killed him before, on several accounts, and he was still injured from his forest run-in with that hunter on the night of the full moon. He knew that if he started a fight here, four goons aside, Ivor would have little difficulties adding a new pelt to his wall. "You don't deserve to speak my name," Salva rasped with that voice like broken glass, coming closer still to Ivor.

The state of the wolf wasn’t entirely unnoticed, and when he stepped closer Ivor stayed still though alert that this could dissolve quickly. The cigar billowed sweetly between them. “So, what’s this about?” Ivor said calmly, the arm broken by Lucas, moved to take the cigar, the wince small, but noticeable. “Could it be? Lucas-- hmm. Finally getting help?” The man’s smile dropped, and his pulse went up just a tick at that thought. He wouldn’t.

"If you don't deserve to say my name, you sure as hell can't say his." Salva couldn't keep it under wraps any longer, feeling like he would bust apart at the seams until it was painful. As one of the henchmen made a slight shift of footing next to the truck, the werewolf reached out, grabbed the man by the hoodie, and yanked him in close - he didn't even shift, but used his human teeth to bite into the man's neck and give a solid wrench. Thick black lifeblood sprayed onto the pavement, and shortly after the man's body hit the street, limp and severed under the chin. Salva then took another step towards Ivor, making no effort to wipe the blood staining his mouth. No words, just a savage snarl and baring of teeth.

Ivor put his hands up towards the other men pulling out various weapons and pointing them at the wolf who tore open one of his men’s throats. The others were nervous now, and Ivor didn’t need a fast shoot out in the middle of the road without a good backup plan in place. Regardless, his pulse rang in his ears as the rush of a hunt always was enticing when so close, and this particular beast was one to fear. There was no doubt about it, that having them here in town, knowing Lucas of all things, and seemingly to be protecting him was going to make this an issue. Salva’s wolf hide would be worth millions, but even faced with this creature-- one who has crossed his path countless times, Ivor didn’t want him. Ivor flipped the shotgun by his side with a turn of the wrist and struck it out right at Salva’s nose.

The gun found purchase, and there was a wet metallic thud as it crashed into Salva's jaw, strings of blood flying from his teeth. But the pain wasn't felt, not at all. His features began to contort to be increasingly monstrous as Salva quickly shifted into his black-furred form. The wolf's body was severely impeded, and the physical stress of shifting forced stitches to pop out of his skin, but his lips were stretched back in an ivory snarl as Salva shook the blow off and came in for another attack. His narrow jaws aimed to snap onto Ivor's arm, a snarl like glass shattering ripping from deep in his chest.

“Start the truck!” Ivor ordered, taking the weight of Salva as he shifted and bared down on him, his feet slid across the concrete and kicked up the dirt as the two collided. His broken arm creaked under pressure, the fracture broke again from the stress. Sweat formed on his brow as the pain increased, making his teeth grit. Blood coated the butt end of the shotgun and splashed on the ground with a flick. Ivor met the feral wolf with his own snarl. Eyes wild, and a face Salva has seen before-- manic and excited. “Grab the lines!” Another order from someone else, his people were moving around, seconds passing as the shotgun exploded between them. Blasting out part of his hearing, but it aimed purposefully upward and between them to damage them both in that way. The beaded rounds cut bits of himself as well as their velocity and explosion gave him a second to shove forward, flipping the gun with a release of a shotgun shell and a reload. rounds cut parts of himself as well as their velocity and explosion gave him a second to shove forward, flipping the gun with a release of a shotgun shell and a reload.

Salva felt the thrill of victory as Ivor struggled to take his weight, and relished in the taste of the hunter's blood bathing his tongue. But there was a reason why countless wolves had fallen at Ivor's feet - he was devastatingly strong, and that crazed intensity in his eye was enough to challenge any wolf's dominance. When the shotgun went off between them and hot shrapnel exploded into his face, Salva's lungs contracted in a sharp, pained yelp, and he briefly fell away to paw at the stinging wounds freckling his muzzle. His hearing was reduced to a high-pitched whine, but this series of events only served to heighten the wolf's aggression. Salva came forward again to leap onto the hunter, this time attempting to take up the shotgun in his teeth and rip it away. Fight harder, Salva… came a distant voice in his ears, his own, from somewhere deep in his being. Or you're going to die here.

Blood coated Ivor’s face, dripping down his chin, turning the snowy white beard into speckled red. Both wolf and human blood splattered across his clothes, and carved lines from the shrapnel of his buckshot bubbled up to the surface and spilled over. Ivor didn’t hesitate one moment, didn’t move, didn’t go to step back or run. He just stood there, looking the beast in the eye, and a freshly loaded shotgun bullet in his single round barrel; these bullets aimed for damage over death. His hearing was white static, but the hunter didn’t seem to care, his chest heaved slightly, a wildness to almost match the beast making the whitest grins spread on his face. “Fire!” he yelled, but could barely hear himself as an explosion of compressed air sent two small harpoons flying at them with a trail of rope. Ivor ducked down in a low squat and met Salva’s leap forward to keep him upright in hopes they connected.

Salva was on his two back paws as they grappled, but his ears swiveled as he heard coordinated movement behind them… he barely had the presence of mind, but the wolf managed to twist out of the way just in time as two harpoons came hurtling at him. One of them missed and clanged against the pavement, but the other hooked into his shoulder, the long-toothed blade catching against the grain of his flesh. Salva let out a blood-curdling howl, but it rose from a place of pure hatred for Ivor, and he used the pain's momentum to bite down on his arm. He wrenched his head to the side with the intent to rip flesh, the threads of Ivor's clothing splintering.

Ivor screamed, the teeth tearing into his flesh never able to be described-- the pain unbearable, even if known over and over, added scars and deep hatred for these creatures. Except one. The men pushed a retracting button on the harpoon that struck as they called for Ivor from the truck. The weapon was cruel and designed to inflict a lot of damage should it be pulled out. Blood dripped everywhere, and Ivor was furious. This was transpiring when it wasn’t part of his plan. How had Lucas gotten on Salva’s radar? Who told him to come to White Crest? Was it his brother? Or fate toying with his desires? Ivor’s anger imploded, and he almost roared back, feral in sound. The shotgun fell to the ground, replaced with silver, and he turned the same sharp blade used on Lucas and shoved it down, through the cheekbone of the beast’s face, and embedded it into Salva’s jawbone to pry it open, so he didn’t lose his arm.

The weapon's cord snapped taut, and the harpoon head retracted, pulling out of Salva's shoulder and taking with it a sizable chunk of muscle and coarse, black fur. But before he could even react, the silver blade landed squarely at the base of his jaw - such a blinding, burning pain made the wolf want to die, and his yellow eyes widened to stare at Ivor's face, almost pleadingly, like the unfeeling beast in him longed for death. However, the stab only served to lock Salva's jaw, and the human in him abruptly decided that this was his moment to get even. The massive black wolf crunched down as hard as he could, feeling the man's arm shatter between his teeth, and gave a mighty wrench… sinews pulled, the joint was forced out of place, and skin and muscle were rented asunder as Ivor's arm was severed at the shoulder. Blood spattered on Salva's face, and he kept the limb in his jaws as he staggered backwards, blinded by anguish - his legs buckled and he collapsed onto the pavement, claws unable to gain traction over a film of his own lifeblood. Is this what it feels like to die…?

Ivor went into immediate shock and his body-- it didn’t know what was happening and his mind was slowing down. He knew that something was missing, that the feeling-- the pain, it wasn’t there as the shock protected him and made his teeth clatter, but it wasn’t good. The blood loss had him stagger back as two of the men ran over and pushed his jacket into his arm. Trying to stop the blood gushing, and he felt like this might be the first time in a while where he might die on a hunt. “Fucking, Salva-- I’m sick of this!” He reached for his shotgun, and though weakened, the closest guy put it in his one hand, holding it steady and pointed it at Salva’s face. But before the trigger pulled, Ivor’s gaze moved bleary towards the road, and his heart almost stopped. A monstrous beast with amber eyes, on all fours, tearing up the asphalt from sheer speed was running right for them. “Go-- go, go--” the two men said at the same time and started to drag Ivor towards the truck who didn't have a choice but to go. The men had already pulled the body of the man killed into the back.

Lucas’ hair was on end, and he barreled towards them, long gashes from his claws tearing up the ground as he pushed himself to go faster and catch the truck. The world blurred to that fine point, and Lucas felt his mind drift dangerously into a place of no return. The tired squealed and spun at the press of the acceleration, kicking up smoke that filled the road. As Lucas got close enough, he caught Ivor’s eye from the back window. The last time such an event happened, it was when he was shot in the head. Somehow, even with his arm torn off, seeing Lucas, even in wolf form, had the hunter smiling when he saw him. It made Lucas sick, his stomach rotting in disgust and his steps faltered against his will. The truck weaved and almost clipped him, and raced down the road. Lucas wanted to chase them but pivoted and ran towards the wolf; half shifted enough to grab his face with both hands, making sure he could smell him and looked him firmly in the eyes. His voice was deep, barely human tongues.

“Salva-- hey, come on-- stay awake. Need to pull this out.”

Somehow, even through the blood loss, Salva had managed to remain at least semi-conscious, and watched incredulously as a shotgun pointed at him was suddenly redirected. Another wolf came barreling in… that scent… Lucas?! He couldn't believe his eyes as Ivor and his men sped away in their truck, tires squealing in its haste - just like that, the hunter had once again vanished into thin air, and all that was left of him was that dark blood smeared on the pavement. Salva's ears swiveled to listen to Lucas as the young wolf approached, and his body language betrayed his usually cold demeanor - the tip of his long black tail thumped slowly against the concrete, as if to say Jesus, is it good to see you, kid. Salva raised his head to Lucas so he could help wrench the knife loose… he knew if he were to shift back with the metal in his jaw, the damage would be devastating. All he could do was brace himself for the pain.

“I got you--” He held Salva’s face almost tenderly for being partially monstrous, and his chest ached at the damage. Lucas couldn’t fucking believe this. He was so mad, and it had been a freak chance that his nose caught Salva’s scent when he was outside to take out the trash. Damn, he owed his mother so much for training him so well in marking scents, and fuck, Gotch was close to his apartment. If Salva hadn’t caught onto to him-- well. Luke just happened to be alone tonight of all nights. Lucas held his jaw still, pressing his thumb near the tip of the blade to line it up, and pulled it out quickly, not wanting Salva to jump and cause it to go into the bone more. He held the beautiful item for a second, and his mind echoed at the sight of it-- knowing it was the same one used on him weeks ago, and all the other small cuts on his body ached in reminder. It felt like a warning or a threat being in his hands, and his eyes drifted back to the road before he half snarled, putting it in his back pocket, so it didn’t burn him. “I didn’t know you were on patrol, shit Salva-- he almost killed you.”

The wolf's jaws fell open, and Ivor's arm thudded wetly onto the ground. Salva snarled hotly against the pain as the knife was removed, and it twisted into a string of human expletives as he shifted back. "Lucas, you idiot... you shouldn't be here," the man snarled through clenched teeth, his words broken up with frustration and shaking breaths. He looked as though he'd been thrown in a meat grinder… needed to stop the bleeding somehow. The man grabbed at a nearby patch of gravel and rubbed a handful onto his jaw and shoulder, knowing that it was definitely going to make the wound infected, but at least it would help the blood congeal. He looked up the road to where the truck disappeared.

"Motherfucker… I fucking HAD him." Salva waved Lucas away and began to pull himself to his feet. "You shouldn't be here, kid. I had it handled."

Lucas swelled with anger, and it was at a level he wasn’t familiar with. It was the word ‘had’ which stoked the coals. A meaty growl rumbled from him, and his body shifted subtly more with a creak of bones. His heart rate was still up from the run, and he was furious at being told he shouldn’t have come when a shotgun had been pointed at the other’s face. That perspective of Luke running up the road had him leaping forward and shifting entirely to get there. The entire time, he was expecting an explosion and Salva’ head in pieces on the goddamn road. The smell of Gotch was saturated in this space, and Luke inhaled it deeply, his body shaking from it against his will as fear swirled in his gut. His clothes were barely on his body from the shift and run, and he couldn’t slow his breathing. “I will not... see someone... die for me. Not from him!” he said frustrated. “I’m tired of this!” It shifted into a roar that he had to swallow down as not to alert anyone. His entire mind burned red because of it. He was right there. Salva almost died and if anyone could have killed Ivor-- Lucas’ thoughts darkened. Wanting to chase after the truck more than anything else.

“Come on, my place is right there--” Luke offered his shoulders.

Salva managed to get to his feet, but only for a moment�� he staggered and reached out to grip Lucas’ shoulder, his knuckles white. Dark black lifeblood steadily dripped onto the pavement, and it could be easily observed that he was going strictly on adrenaline alone - his heart thudded, and his breaths came heaving from a chest shining with sweat. He glanced sidelong to the tire marks the truck left on the road, licked some of Ivor’s blood absently from the corner of his mouth, but however alive he seemed, no one had scented death that night more clearly than Salva. The wounds he’d sustained were grievous, perhaps worse than any of his other run-ins with Ivor, and the image of staring down the barrel of the hunter’s shotgun was burned into his retinas. If Luke hadn’t shown up when he did… “Let him go, Lucas,” Salva said after a long moment, and his voice, usually so strong and confident, was nearly lifeless. It was undignified to accept help from a younger wolf, especially retreating to recover at his house, but if he didn’t get rest, death was still a very real possibility. “Yeah, if I could just… borrow your floor for a night…” There was a hot pressure in his throat. Why do I feel like crying…?

His grip tightened around Salva’s waist, and hoisted him up enough to bare more of his weight so he didn’t stagger so much. Luke’s heart was hammering in concern for Salva, it was bad-- and the wound to his face might not heal well with that silver. Dammit. The silver dagger was tucked in his back pocket and it carried so much reminder to his own torture. “Gotch, when he was cutting me-- and I couldn’t get out of my head, even with the pain--” Lucas felt guilt suddenly swallow up the anger, and it nearly formed a black hole in his chest and it ached so bad he had to grit his teeth to stop frustrated tears from coming up. He walked steady, not wavering in keeping him up.

“He promised, he’d cut someone’s face I care about, scar them-- because I told him no again. To act as a reminder, that he will always win. No matter who I go too.” Luke’s breath faltered a little bit, the seam of his own wound had sealed up but was still causing him issues. It was aching and bleeding a little from the shift and run on all fours, scarred badly forever, another jagged reminder. He took them towards the back alleyway, which would keep them more out of sight. “Next time-- next time I don’t want him too. Please don’t go alone again.”

Lucas's words were growing faint, as if spoken on the other side of a long tunnel, as Salva's healing responses were finally kicking in. He could feel it, his skin and muscles surveying the damage dealt, shocks down his limbs as reinforcements rushed to carry cells to the wounds and fight off bacteria… everywhere except the ripped gash in his cheek. There, no blood flowed, and the skin was becoming dark and dead from where the silver blade corroded his flesh away. He could even feel the chilly night air on his teeth as he glanced to Lucas, his expression tight and brow furrowed with the effort of speaking. His healing would soon be sapping every iota of his energy. "I'll never stop," Salva breathed flatly. "I'll find him again. And when I do, you're gonna be there, Lucas. I'm gonna hold that motherfucker down…while you rip his goddamn face off." A slight hitch in his voice. "I promise, kid."

Luke looked sideways and down at Salva, noticing the further weakness in his steps which had Luke holding him tighter and situating him on his side differently so he didn’t fall down. The weight of Salva was not a hindrance, but it was always awkward to half drag someone. Luke pushed the code into the apartment, and the back door opened. They met eye to eye when Salva spoke, surprised he wasn’t unconscious with the dead weight, amber rings, and spots of fur, the two beasts a bloody mess, with anger still burning hot in their veins for more fight even with the current state. Luke smiled, something brighter than a full moon, making that youthfulness he always carried spread out over his cheeks, and struck his eyes with hope. “Okay. Come on, I really should hose you off,” Lucas joked, but got them up the stairs into his apartment so he could make sure Salva didn’t die.

“Thank you--” he whispered later. Watching over him.

#x: timshel #x: salva

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kenkamishiro · 5 years

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It took a couple days more than I expected since I was busy and distracted by Chen Gong memes, but I finally finished Ishida’s review which is essentially him rambling about his favourite parts about the Tokyo Ghoul S movie lol.

The other thing of note is that we finally know the kanji for Sui? 帥 which means ‘commander’, but who knows if it was like that originally or if Ishida added it after the fact.

The original can be read here. If you find any mistakes please let me know!

＊＊＊

“Have you seen Matsuda Shouta's portrayal of Tsukiyama Shuu?”

The other day I was finally able to go see the movie "Tokyo Ghoul S".

Since posts on Twitter have to be 140 characters or less, I’ve been struggling to cut down the number of characters each time and fit together the necessary information like a puzzle, but to put it bluntly it’s a pain in the ass. So this time, I’d like to share my written thoughts...or should I say endorsement of the movie via this new web service. I apologize for making you read my poor writing.

Oh, just as a precaution, I’ll be touching a bit on the contents of the movie, so if you want to avoid spoilers, I’d advise you not to read any further.

Also, although there were lots of little details that I liked, I’d like to focus on Tsukiyama Shuu played by Matsuda Shouta. (Please don’t get me wrong, all the other cast members were amazing. It’s just what I want to talk about in particular…)

＊＊＊

Matsuda Shouta’s portrayal of Tsukiyama was the best ① His waking up scene was the best It took place early in the movie, but it’s the scene where Tsukiyama is selecting his outfit for the day. I loved that scene.

It’s when the recently awakened Tsukiyama heads for his bureau, calmly yet seriously deliberating over what he should wear for the day.

Going like, “(What about this colour...no, this won’t do. How about this fabric? Good, now then a handkerchief to match…)”

The audience may think, “Whatever, it doesn’t matter…!”, but this is something extremely important to Tsukiyama. His passion of aesthetics came across perfectly in this scene.

At this point in the movie, I was already moved by how Matsuda-san was playing the role of Tsukiyama.

② Tsukiyama whenever he was with Kaneki was the best He was hilarious (delightful) from their first encounter.

The scenes of when they first come in contact, when Tsukiyama visits Kaneki’s university and invites Kaneki to the cafe, and the scene at the cafe itself were very interesting. Particularly when Tsukiyama was waiting at the cafe with his handkerchief. And what he did with the handkerchief afterwards. I was having a blast the entire time. (When Tsukiyama said, “I’m going to wash my handkerchief,” and headed for the bathroom, warning his reflection in the mirror to be flat*)

[T/N: Assuming ‘flat’ means some form of ‘calmato’.]

③ Tsukiyama was strong It’s a given that he'd be strong. He didn’t take any damage at all. The battle scene during the climax was beyond amazing.

In the scene where Tsukiyama was single-handedly tormenting the two people, and even after he released his kagune he was suuper strong.

(Ah, Tsukiyama was so cool…) Is what crossed my mind.

The fight itself was interesting, but his actions outside of it were also fully enthralling. (I really liked when he “set the table”...)

④ Conclusion Tsukiyama fans should absolutely go see the movie. That’s what I want to share.

Live action adaptations of manga are prone to character exaggeration and will occasionally remind you that it’s fiction, but Matsuda Shouta was able to reconstruct Tsukiyama’s rich character with a dose of reality, which makes me think he truly is a rare breed of actor.

I thought that this Tsukiyama can be enjoyed as a character in his own right, even to those who have yet to read the original work.

I was so moved by this character, that if I had the chance to speak to someone who’s being made to read the manga, I’d want to ask, “Have you seen Matsuda Shouta’s portrayal of Tsukiyama Shuu?” He went beyond my expectations.

Starting from the bottom left going clockwise:

Bottom left:

Tokyo Ghoul S Movie Personal Highlights by Ishida Sui

Top left:

Shuu-sama choosing his outfit for the day Looking serious

Top right:

Mask of the moon’s surface. If you look closely you can see it's transparent. Good since it's kinky. Every gesture of his has class to it. His hand attached here looks very elegant.

Bottom right:

So strong! Holding his handkerchief Tsukiyama: Don't worry about it... (Kaneki): I'm sorry.

＊＊＊

Other things I liked ① Kaneki’s reactions Kubota-kun as Kaneki was amazing as always.

About Kaneki’s development in the movie, there were many instances where he was still quite passive, but every little detail in his reactions I saw was amazing.

That is to say, no exaggerated movements or shouts at all, but within his subtle movements and expressions implying the anxiety in his heart or suspicion that doesn’t reveal itself in his face, it made me think that that man is a genius...

(1) When Tsukiyama went to the university and called out to Kaneki, and Kaneki goes, “...huh?” in confusion. His confusion was as if a middle-aged man you've never met sitting next to you suddenly speaks to you.

(2) When Kaneki is carrying the injured Nishiki to his room, Kimi appears at the front door. Kimi embraced Nishiki in his beaten-up state without thinking. During that time, Kaneki couldn’t let go of his shoulder he lent to Nishiki, and as a result, when the three of them ended up in a scrum-like position, it somehow felt like he was trying to make himself inconspicuous.

...those were some examples of the little details I enjoyed a lot.

② Kaneki was strong There were enticing parts that looked like they came straight from a kung-fu movie, with confrontations that went, “undergo intensive training → see results of intensive training → fight strong enemy”, and there were also parts where the battles were simple yet interesting. Whenever I see cool action scenes, I get excited.

I heard from Avu-chan who’d already watched the private showing, that, “He was flying like, fwoosh!”, which made me a bit worried because, “He was flying like, fwoosh…!?” But (I didn’t go to the private showing, so I didn’t see anything from the movie until after it was completed), although there definitely was a part where he flew like fwoosh, I wasn’t the least bit concerned. I was surprised it was so cool.

③ Yamamoto Maika’s portrayal of Touka In the previous movie, how should I word it, Sen-chan* portrayed manga Touka perfectly. It felt as if I dived straight into the manga and was looking right at Touka herself. Her acting was divine, and I liked it a lot.

[T/N: Touka’s first actress, Shimizu Fumika, who changed her name to Sengen Yoshiko under Happy Science.]

For the recent movie, I went to go see it nervously wondering how Yamamoto Maika’s version of Touka would feel like.

Yamamoto-san’s Touka was powerful. I mean that in a good way.

First of all, how high she can raise her body trained through karate. Her blows and strikes fit well in the action scenes, and they were physically strong. She had an impressive battling style in both the “intensive training” scene and the “vs. Tsukiyama” scene, and if I were to pick a fight with her, I can easily imagine that it’d be one-sided and I’d get utterly thrashed.

And more than anything, the power of her presence. I think it’d be quite hard to stand out between Kubota-kun’s Kaneki and Matsuda-san’s Tsukiyama.

However, she became a character that stood out in her own right even standing with them, and character-wise I felt her assert her dominance.

This is just how I personally felt, but to me it seemed as if Yamamoto Maika was angry against the world. That aura fit Touka well, and it looked great.

As an aside, when I saw an interview with Yamamoto Maika the other day, she said, “I haven’t read the original work because I don’t know how to read manga,” and I was very impressed by that.

④ I like the music Rather than the grand majestic melody like last time, this time it was a tad mellow, yet distorted melody interwoven into the taste. That was my favourite feel in the entire movie.

The scene at the beginning especially caught my eye. I was drawn into the movie’s world by experiencing the gorgeous Tokyo and the sense of loneliness you feel there. It fitted well with the atmosphere of both the movie and the manga.

⑤ The Helter Skelter duo was alluring Uta was played by Bandou Minosuke, and Itori by Jiyoung. It was fun seeing the charm and allure of those 2 people who make up Helter Skelter. Jiyoung-san, who made her entrance in this new movie, was a stunning visual who was originally a member of KARA. It might be because she’s from Korea, but although she looks close to Japanese, there’s a subtle air around her that suggests that she isn’t. She was gorgeous in a sultry beauty kind of way.

Things I was concerned about It’s inevitable as an adaptation, but I felt like there were a couple scenes that were a bit difficult to understand if you hadn’t read the manga. Certain words or characters, for example. However, I think it was addressed during the script-writing stage so that they’d be explained throughout the movie (thank you Mikasano Chuuji*…)

[T/N: Also the scriptwriter for the anime.]

Additionally, Kaneki, Touka and Tsukiyama were very compelling characters, so I thought it’d be a fun movie to enjoy. My reactions ended up being late, but I’d be happy if more people go to watch it starting from even now.

Thank you to the directors Kawasaki Takuya and Hiramaki Kazuhiko, the producer Nagae-kun, and everyone who was involved in the making of this movie.

I don’t often go see the same movie in theatres, but I’m thinking of going to see it again.

#Tokyo Ghoul #Tokyo Ghoul S #Ishida Sui #Translations #my translations #i will never not appreciate ishida's rambling #i'm glad he liked it #can't wait to see it in theatres myself :)#featured

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chibivesicle · 5 years

Text

Golden Kamy 211 - Shiraishi shines as a friend of Asirpa and Kiro.

Work has been busy and I’ve had to put a lot of effort into things, so I apologize in advance if this isn’t quite as through as usual. I’m currently at a point where I have to write my own performance review, that I will then give to someone else to write a formal performance review of me. Yes, it is totally inefficient, but it takes up a lot of time to try to make it clear enough for that person to write a review.

I loved this chapter for the most part. I have always liked Shiraishi’s character since he’s one of the few adults who isn’t traumatized from the war and does not see violence as the easy solution to problems and he’s grown so much as a character. I’m so glad that Noda, decided to keep him around and really give him depth!

The title page does a great job of establishing the setting and timing.

It is clear that Shiraishi is returning to their inn after a night out on the town as a random woman has brought his very intoxicated self back. Sugimoto is standing outside as the birds begin to chirp and Shiraishi is clearly functioning under drunken honesty. He immediately comments that since Sugimoto is up so early that he’s been unable to sleep the night before meeting Tsurumi.

This chapter sets up Shiraishi having what one would call “liquid courage” where an individual is intoxicated enough to say and do things that they would normally keep repressed. He flat out tells Sugimoto that he’s just a pet of Tsurumi and he’s handing Asirpa over to him. Sugimoto immediately gets incredibly flustered by this comment and lashes out at Shiraishi who doesn’t even listen him but keeps going.

Shiraishi even brings up the first time Sugimoto was captured by Tsurumi in Otaru (when he helped rescue him with Asirpa at poison arrow point) that he should have just started working for him then. What was the entire point of fighting Tsurumi when he’s working for him anyways?

Shiraishi continues to lay into Sugimoto. He tells the random woman that Sugimoto used to be a lone wolf and the random woman implies that Sugimoto was unable to pick a side in anything. This further upsets Sugimoto as he tries to explain that things are different now. He argues that he doesn’t care what Tsurumi does to Hokkaido! He thinks that it is a better option for Asirpa to give Tsurumi the code b/c he won’t make Asirpa be the “Ainu Joan of Arc” with Hijikata. He says if one thinks about it, it is the best option for Asirpa.

Shiraishi just shakes his head mocking Sugimoto by saying Asirpa - Asirpa. He then asks Sugimoto what about the widow he needed the gold for? He’s implying what about Sugimoto’s original reason to join the gold hunt - what happened to this woman he cared so much about that he was willing to do all of the crazy things up until this point.

This puts Sugimoto on the spot, he nervously replies that he “made a deal to get the money” but he asked only for enough to help Umeko. And then Shiraishi replies that Sugimoto may be happy with that “small” amount of money but, what about what happens for Shiraishi? Does he get any of the money? Keep in mind that Shiraishi joined with Sugimoto and Asirpa for a small sum of the money. He’s risked his life for them to help them in the quest. He should not be forgotten as a valuable team member!

Shiraishi is so angry that he lashes out at Sugimoto slapping him asking about his share. Of course Sugimoto fights back that Shiraishi is making this all about money and slaps him back. Sugimoto is cornered and he wants to devalue Shiraishi’s argument that he’s only in it for the money.

After vomiting, Shiraishi keeps fighting back with words that Sugimoto is leading Asirpa on the right path? That she’s not a family member or lover so what is their connection? The random woman adds additional commentary that she dislikes people who old others down and Sugimoto snaps back at her to stay out of their argument. Shiraishi then presses on that Sugimoto has become so hung up on “protecting” Asirpa that he’s lost his focus on everything else.

This leads to the next page that I just adore! Shiraishi summarizes what I have a reader have felt ever since they reunited.

Shiraishi was there to witness Asirpa on their journey in Karafuto. He saw with his own eyes how she learned many things on the island and that she’s matured. She is not the Asirpa that Sugimoto was separated from.

The then tells Sugimoto that Sugimoto may have reunited [physically] with Asirpa on Karafuto but they are still apart as they were before! I melted at this line - this is a perfect summary of the shift in their friendship. Sugimoto wanted things to stay the same between them but they are out of sync. Sugimoto’s facial expression says it all - he’s sweating, he looks stressed, his lips are twisted a bit, an expression we don’t normally see from him!

Shiraishi then goes on to say that Kiro taught her things that were real facts, not lies - he calls him an overly serious bastard who went to all the effort to get her to Karafuto so she could learn about the plight of her people. She needed to see these things for herself.

This all reaches a climax as Shiraishi grabs a shocked and pensive looking Sugimoto telling him that if she wants to carry the burden of the Ainu, she is allowed to carry that burden.

Ah, I love this so much!!!! Shiraishi flat out tells Sugimoto that Asirpa can make her own decisions and that it is her right to make her own decisions. Since their relationship is not based on family, he’s implying that he doesn’t have the right to tell her what to do. She can do whatever she wants to do. Even though he said they were now equals when they reunited, Sugimoto has never actually followed through in that here in 192 - Contract Renewed.

Sugimoto has been saying one thing, but behaving another way. It took a drunken Shiraishi to blurt all of this out and he’s right. The last page of Shiraishi’s rant, is that if he saw her as a partner and equal that he’d gain back his own independence and not be a pet to Tsurumi. Shiraishi vomits, collapses and then almost passes out as the woman casually strolls off.

The next day Tsurumi arrives on a naval vessel likely due to Koito Sr.’s permission with some basic facts about the ship and crew capacity. It is clear that Tsurumi can only bring 16 men with him, not his entire group of loyal men of the 27th.

The group nervously waits for their arrival. Shiraishi is hung over, Koito is in the foreground, and nervously states that “he’s here!”. He’s got stress lines under his eyes, he’s sweating and he’s not sure how to react to Tsurumi. Tanigaki is stiff in the back with Asirpa while Sugimoto looks quite deadpan. Tsukishima is right behind Koito looking displeased and unhappy to ready with his rifle just like Sugimoto.

Tanigaki then speaks to Asirpa.

Tanigaki then tells her that when they return to Hokkaido, she should ask to see her Huci in Otaru with Tsurumi’s permission. She doesn’t directly reply to his comment, instead she states she’ll know what type of man he is when she sees him.

So let’s take a pause - Tanigaki’s entire reason for questing for Asirpa has been for him to “return her to Huci.”. All of a sudden he’s passed this onto Tsurumi!!! What the hell Tanigaki? You got involved in this to bring Asirpa back to Huci, you told Tsurumi you went to Karafuto to bring her back to Huci and now, now you are changing your side quest er I mean goal. Really? Really? Reaaaaallllly? Tanigaki are you that ready to trust her to Tsurumi? Has he always been loyal to Tsurumi? When he was severely injured and saved by Asirpa and nursed back to health by Huci, he said how Tsurumi took on the burden of the 27th. It is clear that a part of him is still 100% okay with that even though he told Ogata that he left the 27th before their sniper battle and then in the swamp near Kushiro when Ogata saves him from the Ainu punishment. Does this mean those statements were lies or was he just aligning with Tsurumi when it helped him? What does Tanigaki want from all of this? Has he found he prefers to be ordered around by Tsurumi b/c it is safer than thinking for himself?

Anyways, back to the chapter. Tsurumi and his group that includes Kikuta and Usami approaches them. He praises their performance as they have safely brought Asipra to him. He tells Koito and Tsukishima along with Tanigaki and Sugimoto that they were the right men for the job.

Koito, blushes a little and has a bit of a smile and maybe a bit of a gasp. Tsukishima looks unemotional. Tanigaki frowns while Sugimoto is silent with his eyes covered and he also frowns.

As Tsurumi removes his cap, he asks if the young girl is Asirpa. Asirpa simply stares back at him as he remembers Wilk and Kiro from when he was in Russia, and also that he inspected Wilk’s body and eyes after he died at Abashiri.

Tsurumi then looks down upon her as he tells her that she certainly has his eyes. She looks up him with determination ask her hair blows around her face. Everyone is then distracted by Shiraishi vomiting as Tsurumi then notices him in the group. Koito seems a bit surprised as he vomits and Usami looks over. The panel ends with Sugimoto noticing something as Asirpa’s eyes are completely shaded black at the bottom of the panel!

As Asirpa’s eyes are shaded it implies she is about to do something and her intention is not completely clear. With a deadpan expression of determination Asirpa draws forth several arrows at once from her quiver. Her facial expression is similar to when she threatened Shiraishi back in Otaru to help her rescue Shiraishi! Sugimoto is shocked! He’s sweating, his eyes are white in suprise and shock and his heart is beating nervously.

She then ends the panel by getting Sugimoto’s attention by calling his name.

She then in with her normal eyes and facial expression tell hims that she will decide what happens to her, is a decision that she will make. She continues to draw the arrows back on the bow. Tsurumi then notices and starts to try to talk to her as it moves to a panel of Tsukishima panicking as he yells at her in regards to what she’s doing.

Sugimoto pauses to look at her and in the final panel he nods at her in answer to her statement of self-determination.

The next page is a two page panel spread of her releasing her arrows into the air above them as other random members of the 27th look up at them.

Sugimoto then yells as the arrows start to fall back down that they are poison arrows. Tsurumi’s men look on with shock at them. Interestingly, Koito is close to Tsurumi but not as close to the other men, visually separating him from them. Most of the men drop their rifles except for Usami, and Koito looks panicked at the arrows and NOT at Tsurumi!

As the arrows fall towards them, Tsukishima yells out to dodge them as Usami and jumps on Tsurumi to protect him. Tanigaki just looks up in shock and fear! As the arrows fall back to the ground it shows the men avoiding them. Koito demonstrates his athletic skills as he slides down into a split to avoid being hit by an arrow.

Kikuta then asks if anyone is alright as Tsurumi is trapped under Usami and tries to wiggle out.

They then run off as Tsurumi yells that they are escaping. As they are fleeing, Sugimoto asks Asirpa if the arrows are actually poisoned as he noticed they were simple arrowheads without the poison inserted in the cavity of the arrowhead. He concluded that she was going to flee then. She responds with a grin to confirm. She then tells him that if they are partners (implying real partners) that he can’t tell her to not do things. This shows that she sees an equal partnership is based on supporting each other equally not by telling one to do something else.

She then tells him that she wants Sugimoto to be positive and optimistic, that they should “do this together!” implying communication between their partnership.

Oh yes! Asirpa has learned how to not only express what she wants but that she wants Sugimoto to be equal in their partnership and that she wants him to approach it positively not negatively.

They then escape with a final page that in my opinion falls a bit flat and does a disservice to Shiraishi! Sugimoto grins as he tells Asirpa that they should find the gold themselves. And the final small panel shows Shiraishi with an arrowhead lodged in his head.

Why? Shiraishi just gave Sugimoto the literal and metaphorical slap to the face to snap him to understand the situation and he’s used as a crass joke at the end of the chapter! Does this mean Shiraishi will have to catch up to them? Did they ditch him expecting him to catch up to him in their quest for the gold? He may be hung over but that was a dick move. He helped Sugimoto find perspective and Sugimoto and Asirpa ditched him with Tsurumi! I know many fans like to have a “golden trio” of Asirpa, Sugimoto and Shiraishi, but this implies that really isn’t a real trio as they would have brought Shiraishi along with them!

This makes me so angry! It doesn’t come off as funny at all to me, just sad and pathetic. I like Shiraishi, some of the jokes involving him are funny but some are just uncalled for.

Summary and random observations.

1.) Tsurumi has given away that he knows more about Wilk’s past.

By telling Asirpa that she has “his eyes” Tsurumi is subtly admitting he knows more about Wilk’s past. Yes, he looked at his eyes on his dead body at Abashiri but that was for him to confirm that he was dead. Saying that he recognizes his eyes in her implies that he knows more than he’s told most of his men. I wonder who in the group present noticed this little comment? Koito? Tsukishima? Kikuta? Asirpa? etc.

2.) Koito’s worship of Tsurumi is over.

Koito looked nervous when Tsurumi approached. His entire response to him was very calm and understated. When Tsurumi praised him, he blushed a little. That’s it. Obviously, he’s still processing the information he found out from Tsukishima and Ogata. Anyone would still like to be praised for a job well done and he may even be blushing b/c he now doesn’t know how to respond to Tsurumi and he’s just flustered. Koito doesn’t hide his emotions well, this may be him awkwardly trying to stay calm.

What is more important is when the arrows fall back to the earth. I personally would have expected Koito to try to protect Tsurumi with his own life. Instead, he dodges them protecting only himself. He’s also not upset at Usami protecting him. Recall, that what Usami got the tattoos he was livid. Now he’s just reacting to what happened and not even paying attention to Tsurumi!

Koito’s illusion surrounding Tsurumi has been destroyed. It will be interesting to see how Tsurumi responds to him now that he’s back in the 27th. Kiro took Asirpa to Karafuto to mature her. Koito’s father sent him to Karafuto to mature him. i wonder if Tsurumi will see a calmer Koito as a more mature Koito or if he’ll figure out something changed during his time there?

I really hope Koito breaks away from Tsurumi, he’ll make it much more interesting! It has taken him awhile, but Koito is showing character growth and I hope it continues to keep things exciting!

3.) Shiraishi knocks some sense into Sugimoto.

I loved how brutally honest Shiraishi was with Sugimoto this chapter. He was right to act the way he did. Asirpa couldn’t have said those things to Sugimoto directly, he would have just ignored it b/c he would see it a part of him protecting her and her purity. Shiraishi has become much more invested in things including the situation the Ainu are in! He didn’t understand why Kiro had to die when he did. He was in shock as he buried Kiro. He’s had time to think about things as they traveled south and as he mourned. This shows through his reunion with Sugimoto and Asirpa as it fell short - he had in his own way taken on the burden that Kiro was fighting. Yes, he wants to bet on Asirpa and Sugimoto to get the gold but he learned along with Asirpa and Ogata as Kiro took them north to Akou. He willingly helped Sofia escape and was on the path to going to Russia and become a partisan even if he didn’t actively seek it out.

Since Shiraishi has a different role in the quest - his words carry more weight than say, Tanigaki. He emotionally connects with others and has gained an outsider’s perspective. He as a previously selfish person was able to point out Sugimoto’s own selfishness that he was using to rationalize his behavior with Tsurumi. Most of all, Shiraishi points out how cheap he was to sell out to Tsurumi. He could have asked for more money and valued his friends more but instead he only thought of himself - not even Asirpa!

4.) Did Asirpa overhear their argument?

Or did Shiraishi tell her about it? Either way, Asirpa was confident enough to tell Sugimoto to trust her.

Asirpa is amazing in this chapter. She sticks to her own moral code and compass and finds a clever way to escape.

Her importance in looking into Tsurumi’s eyes is key - it indicates that she can read an individual and his or her intentions by this act. What is it that she exactly saw? Unclear at this point in time. Hopefully, this will be explained or elaborated on later.

I’m still guessing if Asirpa has told Sugimoto the key yet. He states that they will find the key themselves but without the skins they are stuck. I really wish we knew more about how their argument ended after the film!

5.) Who is the random woman?

I can’t help but feel like she will play a role in this. I wonder if she will pass information along to others - like Ogata, or Vasily?

Where has Vasya gone off to? He can’t be far away and I can’t help but seeing him fall under the sway of Tsurumi. We know he tells men what they want with his “sweet lies”. He speaks Russian and he could promise Vasily the chance to face Ogata again. . ..

That is all I have for now. I’m a bit too busy to go into my usual depth but I’m hoping that these new events are the start of a new arc. Hopefully, once I’m done dealing with my performance review I’ll be less distracted.

#golden kamuy #golden kamuy meta #sugimoto saichi #asirpa #Shiraishi Yoshitake #koito otonoshin #tsukishima hajime #tsurumi tokushirou #warrant officer kikuta #superior private usami #tanigaki genjirou #vasily #wilk

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buckychristwrites · 6 years

Text

Take Me Higher | OS | b.b.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Who knew that the way into the big broody super soldier’s heart was through his unmet need for a good cuddle?

Word Count: 9.5k

Warnings: disgustingly fluffy

A/N: Pure fluff with a side of touch starved Bucky? No one asked for it but here it the fuck is! The song this is based on is Tear In My Heart by Twenty One Pilots! Let me know what you think! :)

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Sometimes you gotta bleed to know

That you’re alive and have a soul

Three in the morning.

It was three in the morning and Bucky hadn’t slept a wink.

A breeze was coming in through the motel room window he cracked open, waving the ugly sage green curtains back and forth. The door was a bright sky blue, matching the color of the logo on the neon sign out front. As Bucky laid in the queen bed covered by the beige comforter, and looked around, he wondered if the interior designer they hired was blind. Even he felt he would’ve done a better job, and he could barely match his clothes.

The mission had been long. Taking out weapons dealers in a small town in Ohio didn’t sound rough on paper, but none of them were prepared for the involvement of HYDRA, who turned out to be the ones being dealt the weapons. Hours of fighting commenced until finally the Avengers were able to take them down. Everyone was so tired that they decided to stop for the night and then head home in the morning. While the Quinjet could get them back in a few hours, no one had the energy to spend that long amount of time in such close quarters.

Despite not getting injured, Bucky was sore from being knocked round. The warm shower he had taken just an hour before helped only minimally, but now it was the cool evening air blowing against his bare torso that was making him feel better. All that was running through his mind was being in his own bed. The hotel bed was comfortable enough, but he preferred his firm mattress. Sam had once mentioned that he preferred a firm mattress because of his time in the war, and Bucky had to agree.

He stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. Missions didn’t usually tire him like this, but HYDRA missions always took their toll. It was hard not to be brought back to the years he spent with them, watching the horror he committed through his own eyes without being able to do a thing to stop it. It didn’t affect him the way that it used to, but it still left him with deep emotional and physical exhaustion. Yet, despite that, he was unable to fall asleep no matter how long he laid there. It was quite the oxymoron, being so tired that one can’t sleep.

A loud knock at the door startled Bucky, almost making him fall out of the bed. He looked at the clock to make sure he didn’t fall asleep without knowing it, and was slightly relieved and yet confused when it read ten after three in the morning. He stared at the door, a few moments passing before three more knocks echoed through the room. Who would be knocking at this hour? Was it a threat? He highly doubted it, but his mind always went there first. As he stood up off the bed, slowly making his way towards the door, he told himself it was more than likely another member of the team. Sometimes Steve or Tony would check in on him at weird hours, they always somehow knew that he wasn’t sleeping. But none of these reminders calmed his nerves. Peeking through the peephole, he let out a relieved breath before throwing the door open, revealing you on the other side.

“Guess what dumbass thing I just did,” You said with a sheepish smile on your face. Your arms were tightly hugging your torso, and you were shifting back and forth from the tips of your toes to the balls of your feet. Bucky noted your oversized tee shirt and socked feet. For a second, he thought you were pantless until you went up on your tiptoes again and he saw the bottoms of your shorts. The question deep in his mind was how you could be outside in that outfit when it was a cold autumn evening, but he wasn’t about to actually ask.

“What did you do?” He asked, humoring you. It was hard not to with the dorky smile you were giving him. You sighed sharply before dropping your hands to your sides.

“So. Couldn’t sleep, right?” You began. He nodded. “Decide to find the vending machines. So I walk around for awhile before I realize I left my wallet in the room. No big deal. Head back to my room, only to remember as soon as I get there.” You paused, dropping your head to the side and looking at him in annoyance. “My room card is in my wallet.” Your head fell back and you stared up at the awning above your head. A gust of wind blew your shirt to the side, and you shivered as you held it down. “I could go down to the lobby to get a new one but it’s such a long walk and I’m freezing. Can I please crash in your room?”

He turned around and looked around the small room. The only other piece of furniture in the room was the one arm chair near the window, but it wasn’t big enough for either of you to sleep in. On one hand, he wasn’t sure where else he would sleep besides the floor if he was going to give you the bed, and with how sore he was, that just didn’t sound ideal. But on the other, there was no way he wasn’t going to let you sleep there. As he turned back towards you, he noticed how violently your body was shaking in the cold, and immediately took a step to the side.

“Of course, get in here,” He insisted, closing the door as soon as you crossed the threshold of the room. Almost immediately, you collapsed onto the right side of the bed, throwing the blankets over yourself. Bucky watched you, the conundrum of where he would sleep still very much alive. Once you stilled in the bed, your eyes found him again.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him.

“Just trying to figure out where I’m gonna sleep,” He mumbled, not returning your gaze as he looked around the room, deep in thought. Maybe the bathtub? He’d just need a pillow and maybe a blanket. There was a spare in the closet. And how many pillows did you need? More than likely you wouldn’t have an issue with letting him use one. Would the floor of the tub still be wet?

“Do I smell or something?” You asked, sounding hurt. He looked back at you to find a look of confusion on your face. “There’s a whole other side of the bed, Bucky. You can definitely sleep here.” His cheeks must have gone red once they started burning, as you huffed and shook your head. “It’s just one night. I’ll stay close to the edge so I won’t bother you. I know you probably don’t like being touched.”

It was only partially true. Bucky didn’t mean to come off as someone to stay away from. It was hard to come back from everything he had been through as an open person. When you joined the team, he was civil with you, but kept you at arm’s length for two reasons. From your first day, it was clear you had a loud and bold personality. You brought something different to the compound, with your loud laughter and the music you played in your room at just a loud enough volume for Bucky to hear from down the hall. There was nothing wrong with any of that. In fact, Bucky loved the new energy that you brought to the compound. But it was the opposite of his own, and he didn’t know how to handle it unless it was from a distance. He was too quiet, too closed off for the sort of boldness you exhumed, and the sort of attention he figured you’d require. He just wasn’t ready for it.

The second reason, and probably the most important one, is that you were very tactile. Touching a person’s arm as you spoke to them. Hugging people from behind when they’re sitting at the table. Laying on someone’s lap while watching a movie. It was a very huge piece of who you were. Hell, the whole reason you were on the team was because you could enhance everyone’s abilities with a touch. You were an important asset, no doubt. And while Bucky didn’t necessarily have an issue with being touched per say, he still wasn’t used to being touched in a way that wasn’t violent or forceful. He jumped at even a slight brush. Even Steve tried not to touch him too often so that he wouldn’t be uncomfortable. It was sort of an unspoken rule to everyone that he was to not be touched, and though you had little interaction with him, it was clear from the few and far between moments the two of you did have that you had gotten that memo.

But with all these things considered, he knew you had a point. It was only one night. Besides, he didn’t feel he was being necessarily fair with his avoidance of you. It wasn’t like you had done anything to wrong him. What control did you have over the type of person you were? He sort of envied it. Maybe sending time with you would open him up more. It was time for him to treat you like a member of the team.

He nodded at you before slowly crossing the room and climbing into the bed himself. As he slipped under the covers, you turned off the light and sunk deeper under them yourself. The only thing he could hear in the darkness was the wind blowing outside and your quiet breathing. Bucky rolled onto his side, facing away from you, and hugged the pillow his head was lying on. The amount of apprehensiveness he felt was indescribable.

It had been quite some time since Bucky had shared a bed with anyone, let alone a woman, and for whatever reason, it left him feeling incredibly anxious. There was about five feet of space between the two of you, as he was right up on the edge. The bed bounced slightly as you tossed and turned in your sleep, but Bucky remained still. His eyes were locked on the digital clock next to his side of the bed. If he wasn’t able to sleep before, there was no way he was going to now.

A half hour had passed. He knew you were asleep, by the way your breathing had slowed and though your moving around hadn’t seized, it wasn’t as forceful as it had been before. It became easier to ignore your shuffling, it only making him wonder how you ever got a good night sleep. He started to calm down up until you were suddenly up against him, your arms tightly wound around him. His entire body tensed under your touch, his skin feeling like it was on fire. His heart was pounding out of his chest, and part of him wondered if he was having a heart attack. Instincts were telling him to pull out of your grasp, or roll over and shove you away, but he didn’t. After the initial shock began to wear down, it actually felt sort of… nice. Despite his racing heart, his body relaxed in your arms. He could feel your face pressed into his hair and he suddenly was thankful he washed it. As his muscles eased, he hesitantly put his arms over your own. Was that the thing to do? He wasn’t sure. But it couldn’t hurt. You were clearly deep in sleep, and probably unaware of your actions. What was the harm in him... enjoying them?

He shuffled backwards slightly, pressing himself into you further. A sigh passed your lips, and he felt you move your head a little as your grip slackened. For a second, he panicked, worrying he had woken you and that you would return to your side. But your arms tightened around him again, your face pressed into his hair once more. Sighing contently, he closed his eyes, and before he knew it he was out like a light.

A pounding on the door woke him up the next morning. Groaning, rolled over in the bed to find you gone. Suddenly, the room felt colder. Slowly, he climbed out of bed and made his way to the door. Flinging the door open, his cheeks began to burn when he found you on the other side. The oversized shirt and pajama shorts were replaced with everyday wear, your backpack slung over your shoulder. The sweet yet amused smile on your face was sending his heart into a frenzy in a way that he didn’t understand.

“Good morning, Princess Aurora,” You said teasingly. “Check out is in a half hour, we gotta get going.” You tugged at the strap on your shoulder. “Thanks for letting me spend the night in here last night.” He nodded, looking down at the floor.

“No problem,” He mumbled. Both of you could feel the words that were being left unsaid, the elephant in the room. Without looking at you, he could tell by the way you shifted your weight from your side that you were debating on whether to say anything or not. When he finally returned your gaze, you said nothing more, instead just giving him another soft smile before turning and walking off. As he closed the door shut, he could feel the ghost of your arms around his torso, and your chest pressed into his back.

But it takes someone to come around

To show you how

He couldn’t look at you anymore.

Every time he did, all he could think about was the feeling of your skin on his. Which made absolutely no sense to him. A full week had passed since the evening at the motel. How was he still able to remember the way your fingertips felt gripping his side and your breath against his neck so clearly? If he let himself think about it too much, he could convince himself that you were actually there, still holding him. Not that he did that ever. Nope. Never.

It had gotten to a point where he began to crave it, almost. Like it was a hunger that needed curbed. An itch that needed scratched. He had been held for the first time in decades, and now he needed more. But what was he going to do? Just ask you to cuddle him? Maybe you would if he had put effort into having a relationship with you before. But he didn’t. It was a one night thing that went undiscussed. What if you didn’t even remember it? What if you had pulled away in your sleep and never knew it had happened? Or what if you didn’t want it to? Maybe that’s why you were already gone in the morning when he woke. Too embarrassed to deal with the fact that you spent your night touching him.

So he did the only thing he knew how to. He avoided you. If you entered a room that he was in, he left. If he heard your voice nearby, he would flee. It was better than trying to deal with whatever feelings he had gained from that night. Avoiding you now was no different than how it was before, albeit a bit more extreme. But even if you noticed, he knew you weren’t the type to confront him.

But this evening, it was all too much. He hadn’t had a proper night sleep in days. In fact, if he really let himself think about it, which he tried really hard not to, he hadn’t gotten a proper sleep since the motel in Ohio. Every evening since, he felt himself tossing and turning more than usual.

Throwing his head up, he looked at the clock. A quarter passed one. He had been laying there for over two hours now, and he didn’t sleep for any part of it. The exhaustion was getting the better of him. He just wanted to fucking sleep.

Kicking the covers off him, he climbed out of bed and sulked out of the room. Maybe he’d be able to sleep after grabbing a bite to eat. It wasn’t that he was hungry, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. As he got closer to the kitchen, he could hear the television from the living room getting louder and louder. When he hit the doorway, he paused and leaned against the wall. You were tucked in the corner of the couch, your legs on the coffee table. Your body was facing Bucky, and even though you hadn’t seen him enter, he could see that you were wide awake.

“Can’t sleep?”

You didn’t jump when he said it, instead just simply looking over at him. He wasn’t surprised though. Your senses were enhanced, just like his, and you probably heard his footsteps before he even left his room. Using your feet to push you up slightly, you nodded. Despite the lack of proper lighting, he could see the bags under your eyes and the yawn you tried to hide.

“I don’t sleep much anyway,” You said, shrugging. Bucky nodded, understanding better than you knew. The two of you stared at each other in an awkward silence until Bucky looked down at the floor. He could feel it again. The tingling where your arms had held him like he was haunted by the memory on his skin. The yearning for it to happen again was all he could think about, and here you were, ready and able to oblige. But he wasn't about to ask. How pathetic would that sound? The last thing he needed was another person on the list of people who pitied him.

“Bucky, what’s wrong?” You asked, sitting up further. He shook his head, but found it suddenly difficult to speak. The room had no lights on, but the brightness of the TV on your face was enough to show your confused expression. “Bucky.” Your voice had a firmness to it this time. He sighed.

“Did you…” He trailed off, looking up at the ceiling for a moment before looking back at you. He couldn’t believe he was actually about to bring it up, and for a second he thought about stopping himself and leaving. But he didn’t. “Did you do it on purpose? At the motel?” The confused expression on your face didn’t change for a while, until finally your eyes widened, and then you buried your face in your hands.

“God, I’m sorry Bucky,” You sighed. “I was hoping that maybe you were asleep when it all happened and I had left before you could notice. I’m a huge cuddler when I sleep and I do it a lot without meaning to.” When you pulled your hands from your face, Bucky could see the apologetic look in your eyes. “I noticed you were keeping your distance, but I didn’t know it was because of that. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m so sorry.” He began to rapidly shake his head.

“No, no, it’s okay,” He said quickly, swallowing hard. “I just- uhm… I was gonna ask…maybe…” He huffed in annoyance. This is stupid, he told himself. More than likely you wouldn’t be down with it, especially since he just made you feel bad about the whole thing. He brought his hands to his mouth, his fingers anxiously pulling at his lips as he thought of the right words to say, but nothing was coming to him. The confusion was wiped from your face as your lips began to twitch upward.

Wordlessly, you lifted up your arms, your hands open and your fingers out towards him. He froze and it took him longer than it should’ve for him to realize what it was you were doing. For a second, he seriously considered refusing, but why would he do that? Suddenly he felt very warm. His steps towards you were small and slow as he gave himself a chance to back out. But he never did. Your eyes never left his as he sunk into the couch and crawled towards you. As you laid yourself down, he laid down on top of you, his head finding comfort on your chest. All tension in his body seemed to evaporate as you wrapped your arms around him. His feet were hanging over the arm of the couch, but it didn’t bother him.

“Comfy?” You whispered. He nodded. The warmth of your body against his was familiar and yet his heart was pounding as if it were the first time. It wasn’t until you began absently running your fingers through his hair with one hand and running drawing circles on his back with the other that he really began to lose it. His stomach was doing so many somersaults that he felt like he was going to throw up, but he swallowed it down. There was no way he was about to ruin this just because he was a bit starved of human contact and didn’t know how to handle it.

He shifted so he was more tucked into your side. For the first time, in what felt like a long time, his mind had gone quiet and his body was at ease. “Comfy” was an understatement. If there were a word in the English language to describe how he felt, he had yet to learn it. It wasn’t until a line on the TV caught his attention that he found a word that was pretty close.

“No sort of bliss better than being in the arms of the one you love.” His eyes jumped up at you, and he found that even though your fingers were still working through his hair and his skin, your eyes were closed. He smiled.

Maybe this wasn’t the love they were referencing on the TV. But they were right about one thing. There was no other sort of bliss.

She’s the tear in my heart

I’m alive

Bucky woke up in his bed alone. He didn’t know how you were able to sneak away without waking him, but somehow you always managed. Even without you there, he had stayed lying on his back. Maybe his subconscious had hoped you would return.

That night it had been your turn to be held. The day had been long and hard on you, and Bucky began to feel guilty for all you would do for him, but he never reciprocated, so this night he did all the holding. You had laid your head on his chest, tucked under his chin, with your hand resting on his upper torso, running your thumb gently up and down his bare skin. It was just as nice to hold you as it was being held by you, Bucky discovered.

The walk down the hall towards the kitchen as quicker than usual, and he felt himself grow disappointed when he walked in only to find Sam shoveling his way through a bowl of cereal. He tried to push that feeling away as he lowered his head and crossed the kitchen.

“‘Morning,” Sam said into his bowl. Bucky mumbled back a greeting as he opened the fridge and did a quick scan before pulling out a plum and shoving it in his mouth. He started to close it, before changing his mind and grabbing a yogurt. When he turned around, he found that Sam was watching him.

“What’s with you?” He asked as Bucky rounded the island and sat in the stool on the end. “You seem off.” Bucky shrugged as he took another bite of the plum. It was ripe, but not too hard. Just the way he liked it.

“Just woke up,” He said simply before realizing that he didn’t grab a spoon. It wasn’t until that moment that he realized how scatterbrained he was acting. He felt Sam’s eyes on him as he crossed the kitchen once more, opening the silverware drawer.

“Good morning, gentleman.”

Bucky didn’t have time to react to the sound of your voice before he felt a hand run across his back. A shockwave went up his spine at the feeling of it. By the time he had turned to face you, your hand had already left him, leaving a tingling sensation behind, and you were at the fridge pulling out a yogurt. You smiled at him when you turned in his direction, nodding towards the drawer he was standing in front of.

“Can I have a spoon, please?” You asked kindly. Absently, he handed you the one in his hand before turning and grabbing himself another one. He could feel Sam staring at the two of you, and while you didn’t seem to notice or mind, it made him feel quite embarrassed. He returned to the stool he had been sitting at before, while you stood between him and Sam.

“Is there anything going on today?” You asked before taking a bite of yogurt. Sam shrugged.

“All I know is I’m training with Natasha later and I’m gonna get my ass whooped,” He said begrudgingly. You laughed, leaning slightly and putting your hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“Good luck, my dude,” You said, clearly trying to sound supportive but it was hard when you were still laughing. Bucky didn’t notice right away that your eyes were on him because he was too busy staring at your hand, which was still on Sam’s shoulder. For whatever reason, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Just seeing it made him feel some type of way, but he couldn’t quite describe it.

“What about you, Bucky?” You asked him. The sound of his name coming from you broke him from his trance. When he locked eyes with you, a smile filled your cheeks. “What do you have going on today?” Bucky simply shook his head.

“I think I’m training with Parker later, but nothing other than that,” He said quietly, turning away and continuing to eat his yogurt. He didn’t know you had moved until he felt the familiar sensation of your fingers ruffling through his hair. Electricity shot up his spine once more at your touch, and was gone the second your hand pulled away.

“You have fun when Peter webs you to the ceiling,” You said, giggling as you left. Bucky fought the urge to turn and watch you go, keeping his eyes locked on the almost empty cup and the half eaten plum on the counter. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sam continuing to stare at him. He pretended not to notice.

“So what was that?” Sam asked, breaking the few moments of silence.

“What was what?” Bucky asked nonchalantly, but he tried not to cringe at the sound of his voice when he said it. If he could taste the bullshit, then he knew Sam would too.

“You had been keeping your distance from her since she joined the team and now all of a sudden she’s fucking with your hair and touching you? And you’re cool with it?” Sam said in a questioning tone. He dropped his spoon down into the bowl so he could cross his arms. “You expect me to believe this just magically happened?” Bucky huffed as he roughly scooped up another spoonful of yogurt and shoved it in his mouth.

“We’ve been… talking,” He mumbled. The rest of the team didn’t know what you and him were doing, and he wasn’t about to out himself. Especially to Sam, who he knew wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. Although, from the look on Sam’s face, it was clear he wasn’t buying it.

“Talking,” He said it more as a statement than a question. Bucky nodded.

“Is that okay, or did I need your permission?” He challenged Sam. The look on his friend’s face changed to surprise, and also slightly impressed. Without a word, Sam got up and took his bowl to the sink, dumping the last of the soggy cereal into the garbage disposal and giving the bowl a quick clean. While finishing up his small breakfast, Bucky kept his eyes on him. He knew that he had more to say. Sam just wasn’t the type to keep his feelings on things quiet. He turned back to Bucky, putting his hands on the corner of the counter and leaning on it slightly.

“I’m just glad you’re “talking” to someone, man,” He said, giving him a suggestive smile and walking towards the living room. When he walked passed, he gave Bucky a slight shove and dodged the swing Bucky threw at him. “It loosens you up!”

As Bucky listened to the sound of Sam’s footsteps fade away, he stared down at the counter and, although he couldn’t see it, the burning in his cheeks let him know he had turned a bright shade of red. He silently hoped that Sam didn’t notice. He didn’t need anything else to use against him.

She’s the tear in my heart

I’m on fire

When are you getting home?

Bucky couldn’t help but smile at the sight of your text message. The roar of the Quinjet engines were loud in his ear as it began to descend over New York City, but he didn’t notice as he typed his reply.

Almost there.

The city in the nighttime was already a sight, but seeing it overhead was both exhilarating and breathtaking. Little star like balls of light covered the buildings and streets, the traffic looking like beetles from the height. It was really the only part Bucky liked about going on missions, was seeing the big city he called home in the beauty it was at a distance, although his favorite time of day to view it would be at dawn or dusk, when the orange and pink skies added to the already beautiful sight.

His phone buzzed in his hand, and for a second, he continued to look outside and pretended he wasn’t in any rush, despite his heart which skipped a beat as soon as he saw your name on the screen.

I’m already in bed dozing off. If I pass out before you get here I’ll see you in the morning!!!

He felt himself grow disappointed. It wasn’t your fault. The whole reason you had missed this mission was because you had been sick, but he couldn’t help it. The entire time he was gone, Bucky would check his phone even when he knew it didn’t go off, or look around for you because he constantly would forget that you weren’t there. He didn’t understand why he was acting this way, or how to make it stop. No one else seemed to notice his distractions, and if they did, they didn’t point it out.

As the Quinjet began lowering down towards Stark Tower, Bucky could feel the butterflies in his tummy growing restless. He was completely unaware of the dopey smile on his face at the sight of the building until he looked over and saw Steve giving him a strange look.

“What are you so excited about?” Steve asked him. His shoulders rose and fell, but the smile didn’t drop in the slightest.

“Just can’t wait to sleep in my own bed,” He said. It wasn’t convincing, and he knew when Steve looked out the window with a knowing smile on his face and only humming in response that he didn’t believe him.

The second the Quinjet touched down on the helipad, Bucky had to refrain from jumping out of his seat. The knuckles on his right hand were white as he gripped the arm rest impatiently, his eyes on the back of Stark’s head. He never understood why the time between landing and the door opening was so long. But maybe it only felt so much longer this time because he was waiting for it.

Once the door had opened, Bucky stood as nonchalantly as possible, grabbing his bag from the overhead been and making his way out of the jet. Every step he made was calculated as he tried not to appear rushed or anxious. Although everyone was so tired, they probably wouldn’t have even noticed. The walk through the tower towards his room seemed like it was never ending. The hallway seemed to grow narrower. Did the place get bigger in his absence?

His eyes stared down your door long before he had even reached his own. He debated in his mind whether to peek in on you or let you be. A half hour had passed since your last text, which probably meant that you were more than likely long asleep. He turned the knob to his room and let himself in, setting his bag down at the end of the bed. Slowly, he stripped down and changed into sweats and a crew neck. He considered just crawling into bed and seeing you in the morning, but the rest of him had other plans as his legs seemed to mindlessly carry him out of the room.

The door to your room didn’t creak as he unhurriedly pushed it open, and he was grateful. Resting on top of your blankets, you were snuggling up against your pillow, your phone still in your hand as if you fell asleep mid-text. Crawling into your bed, Bucky held his breath as he carefully positioned himself over you, slowly lowering himself down so he was now lying on you with his head between your shoulder blades. You let out a staggered breath and lifted your head slightly, glancing back at him before letting your head fall back onto the pillow.

“So much for seeing you in the morning, huh?” You asked in a groggy voice. Though your voice was playful, that didn’t stop the anxiety that rose in Bucky’s chest. Should he have left you alone and waited until morning? Just as he went to lift his head, he felt the tips of your fingers find his head, softly kneading his his hair. Nothing could hold back his smile as he relaxed.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, raising his head and lightly resting his chin on your spine. He felt you sigh under him.

“Much better,” You breathed. “M’pretty sure I slept most of the time you were gone.”

“So I didn’t miss much?” He asked, you shaking your head.

“Not a damn thing,” You reassured him. He nodded, his chin running up and down your back. All he felt was relief. The last thing he wanted was to miss out on something important with you. “How was the assignment?” He groaned, his head falling to its side so he was laying it down once more.

“Too long,” He said simply. That was the closest he wanted to get to admitting it was too long to go without you.

With being away from you for a full week, it gave him a lot of time to consider what exactly was happening between the two of you. While he couldn’t figure out what you were feeling, he knew that his feelings for you were way beyond platonic at this point, no matter how hard he tried to deny them or ignore them. For a while he had been convinced that he was so starved of human contact for so long that once he had it, he wanted more and it just was masked as romantic feelings towards you. And maybe at first, that was the case. But now he didn’t want it from anyone else. He just wanted it from you.

“I missed you while you were gone,” You mumbled after a while, it so quiet that Bucky almost thought he imagined it. He rolled his head over so he was burying his face into your shirt, his face so hot and smiley that he couldn’t take it. The room felt hot despite the air conditioning being on, but he knew that it was just him.

“I guess I missed you too,” He said quietly. He felt you laugh against him, his heart skipping a beat.

“Alright, asshole, you’re squashing me,” You whined, squirming as best as you could underneath his weight. “Can we change positions now so that I can breathe?”

My heart

Is my armor

“Fuck, I’m so tired,” You said through a yawn. Bucky looked up at you from his phone, eyebrows raised.

“Plenty of time to sleep,” He reminded you. “We’re not going to be home for another four hours. I think.” He knew for sure it was four hours, but he made himself sound uncertain to lessen the blow. From the sound of your groan, it didn’t appear to work.

“I can’t sleep on planes,” You whined. He grimaced, remembering that you had indeed told him that before.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, although it came out so quiet that he was almost certain you didn’t hear it.

“Wish I could teleport or some shit,” You grumbled. “I’d have been home and in my bed as soon as the mission was over.” He chuckled.

“Only if you’d take me with you,” He remarked, looking back down at his phone.

“Well, of course,” You retorted, sounding offended that he would even suggest that you wouldn’t.

The jet was quiet, with Sam in the cockpit and Steve and Natasha already passed out in various seats. Bucky had originally sat down by himself, but was quite pleased when you took the seat next to him. Out the window, the sky was dark but whatever city they were flying over was beaming with light, almost making up for the fact that he couldn’t see any stars. He was so lost in the sight that he didn’t notice you peering over his shoulder.

“Why are you reading that?” You asked, a serious tone in your voice. His eyes jumped down to his phone to the news article he had opened with the headline: Public Questions Winter Soldier’s Place In Avengers. When he looked back at you, he noticed the sadness in your eyes. “Why do you give into them?” He continued to stare at his phone, his mind running blank on how to respond.

The article made some valid points, as most of them did. At one time, he was viewed as a public threat. The public still very much believed that he was responsible for the death of the former King of Wakanda, no matter how many times the Avengers disputed it. Once they had a view on something, it was almost impossible to change their mind. And despite Shuri removing all traces of HYDRA’s ability to control him ever again, that didn’t stop him from worrying that somehow they’d find a way to control him again. With everything that had happened to him over the course of his life, it was impractical for him to find anything unfeasible.

As hard as he tried not to read the negative things said about him, it was almost impossible for him. Sometimes he did it when things went wrong and he felt he needed to be put in check, like this time when civilians got hurt because of a careless mistake. But other times, when he’s feeling really low, he’ll read them to confirm to himself that he’s as terrible as he believes he is.

The next thing he knew, you were taking his phone and closing out of the article. He didn’t even bother trying to take it from you before you shoved it into his jacket pocket and took his hands into yours. It wasn’t until you had turned in your seat so you were facing him that he knew you were serious.

“Listen to me very carefully,” You told him, eyes locked on his. “You are not what they say you are. You are not who you were in the past. You are a strong, amazing person and you deserve better and more than this.” He didn’t know what to say; he never did when someone complimented him. And he could see the genuinity in your eyes, although he always could. You were always trying to tell him that the way he viewed himself was wrong, to the point where sometimes he felt himself believing it. Tilting his head, he wordlessly slipped his fingers in the spaces between your own. A wordless thank you. Giving him a soft smile, you turned back in your seat. He thought that was going to be the end of it, until you leaned your head down and laid it on his shoulder. Suddenly, he was as still as a statue, afraid to move in fear that you would pull away from him.

“Comfy?” He asked. You nodded against him. He pulled out his phone, opting to read a book he had downloaded a few days prior. It was the only thing he could do one handed, with his other hand still occupied with yours. A mere fifteen minutes had past when all he could hear were your quiet snores, and he smiled softly to himself as he read, leaning his head to the side so it was against the top of yours. Mindlessly, he drew circles on the skin of your outer hand with his thumb. It wasn’t much, yet somehow it was everything.

She’s the tear in my heart

She’s a carver

The floor vibrated slightly under Bucky’s bouncing knee. He stared at his phone, which was resting on the table in front of him, with his hands covering his mouth. The sound of Steve’s words were echoing through his mind.

The jet was attacked and we lost contact.

The silence was overbearing. But any noise that came from anywhere except for Bucky’s phone just made him angry. He needed to hear from you. A phone call. A text. He’d settle for a letter via carrier pigeon for fuck’s sake. Sure, he was concerned about Tony, Rhodey and Wanda as well. But he’d be lying if he said his worry for them was the same as it was for you.

“They’re gonna be fine,” Sam’s voice came up from behind the couch, making Bucky jump. As he took a seat on the left end of the couch, Bucky didn’t take his eyes off his phone.

“I should’ve been there,” He said firmly. Although he was angry, at the interruption of his thoughts as well as the whole situation, his voice was shaky. Small.

“And what would you have done?” Sam asked in a demanding tone. “It was three HYDRA planes going after them. What could you possibly have done?” Bucky bit his lip. He knew how stupid he sounded. But he wasn’t about to admit that at least if you were dead, he would’ve gone with you. Or maybe he could’ve made sure the plane landed safely. He’d survived free falling from the sky before, he was positive he could do it again.

Sam scooted closer to him. “They’re going to be fine.” He said it slowly, carefully enunciating each word. Bucky finally looked up at him.

“How would we know?” He asked.

“Because they’re all soldiers,” Sam told him. “They’ve fought and won before. And they’ll do it again.” When Bucky didn’t answer, Sam leaned forward and hesitantly put his hand on his shoulder. Bucky flinched hard, but didn’t pull away like he once would’ve. “She’s gonna be fine.” Just then, Steve rushed in. The color he had lost when he had spoken to Bucky earlier had returned to his face.

“They’re here,” He said through short, rapid breaths, making it clear he had been running. “They’re here and they’re fine.”

Bucky wasted no time before jumping off the couch and racing out of the room. The hallway seemed to have grown longer as he made his way towards the stairs, foregoing the elevator. As he made his way up, he heard footsteps bounding down the stairs towards him. He rounded a corner to find you coming down the stairs, making him stop dead in his tracks.

The sound of your name floated through the air, and it took him longer than it should’ve for him to realize that he said it out loud. The only response you gave was all but launching yourself at him from the last step, crashing into him and sending him staggering back into the wall. He wrapped his arms tightly around you, one under your bottom to hold your legs up and the other around the middle of your back. It wasn’t until he steadied himself that he could feel you shaking, causing his heart to shatter in his chest.

“You’re fine,” He whispered in your ear. His hand went up to the back of your head, his thumb stroking your hair. “Everything is fine.”

“I love you.”

It was so sudden that Bucky wasn’t in the least bit prepared. Every single muscle in his entire body froze. Slowly, you pulled yourself away from him, looking right into his big blues. He noted the paleness in your skin, and the slight trembling of your lip. His mouth was hanging open slightly as he waited for you to speak again.

“I thought I was gonna die,” You started. The tone in your voice was one Bucky had never heard before. “And the only thing I could think about was that I never told you that. And I hated myself for it.” You lifted your hand, gesturing between yourself and him. “Whatever this is going on between us stopped being platonic for me a while ago. And I feel like you feel the same.”

Bombs were dropping in Bucky’s stomach, sending him into overload. It was too much. It was all too much. The fear of you dying. Having you back in his arms after being gone for two weeks. The relief of you not being dead or harmed. And now… now you love him. And he felt the same. You fidgeted in his hold.

“This is the part where you say something,” You said nervously. “Anything really.” But he didn’t. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed you. It was hesitant, nervous. But then you snaked your fingers through his hair and pulled him closer, and it turned passionate and loving. Bucky’s entire body was exploding, his brain somehow loud and quiet at the same time. When you pulled away, Bucky noticed you weren’t shaking anymore. With his free hand, he ran his fingers up and down your spine.

“I love you too.” It was so quiet that if you didn’t see him say it, you wouldn’t have ever known that it was from Bucky. Who knew someone so big, hard and closed off could be so tender? He swallowed hard before his eyes jumped up to you again. “Was that okay?” He asked softly. He wasn’t sure why he was so anxious. You laughed loudly, leaning your forehead against his.

“Only if that’s not the last one.”

She’s a butcher with a smile

Cut me farther

He was waiting for the signal.

It was something the two of you had discussed before the party. Tony forced the two of you to go, and also gave a reminder that while it was for Steve’s birthday, it was still a function and that you couldn’t only talk to Bucky all night. Which, of course, was something neither of you liked because if Bucky had his choice, he would be sitting on a chair in the corner with you on his lap and his arms around you, people watching all night. Why would he want to talk to a bunch of strangers? He didn’t know, but he only received a glare from Tony when he dared to ask.

The air smelled of cigarettes and alcohol, with a twinge of cologne. As most of Stark’s parties did. The room was a gradient of red white and blue, fitting the black tie theme. Despite that, Bucky still wore a black tuxedo. He had hoped that it would make him not stand out, but all it did was make him pop even more. Like a sore thumb.

You were across the room at the bar, being talked up by a handsome stranger. Bucky wasn’t worried. He could tell by the look on your face and the way you wouldn’t face the man fully that you were bored with whatever he had to say. He didn’t blame the poor sap for trying. You looked radiant in your floor length red gown. He didn’t have to be in love with you to see you were the most beautiful person in the room. It wasn’t him seeing things in rose colored lenses, it was him not being blind.

“That doesn’t bother you?” Sam asked, taking a sip of the gin and tonic in his hand. He donned an all white tux, and had gotten the phone numbers of at least three girls. Bucky turned his body towards him while keeping his eyes on you. Sam nudged him with his elbow, but Bucky pretended not to notice. “Even in the least bit? He’s been talking to her for twenty minutes now.” Bucky shrugged.

“Nope,” He said simply before taking a swig of the glass of whiskey. He couldn’t get drunk, but the taste sometimes brought him back to times when he could. “She’ll let me know when it gets to be too much.”

“How will she do that?” Sam asked, sounding more curious than taunting. Just then, as if on cue, you looked over at Bucky with wide eyes and an even wider smile. He could just barely make out the stranger’s hand on your thigh. He nodded towards Sam.

“That’s how,” He said nonchalantly, shrugging and throwing back the glass until it was empty and leaving it on the table. Carefully slipping between the crowd of people while avoiding socialization, Bucky made his way towards you. Not once did your eyes leave him as he did so, somehow going unnoticed by the man at your side. His stride slowed as he got closer, his eyes on the back of the man’s head, whose hand was still on your thigh.

“Excuse me, pal,” He said, standing close enough so he was almost in between you and the man. A smile spread across his face as he held his hand out for you. “Care for a dance, doll?” Without taking your eyes off him, you handed your drink to the stranger and took Bucky’s hand.

“Thank you,” You sighed. “He was just babbling about how cool my powers were and it was all fun and games until he asked if I could enhance men in the bedroom.” You visibly cringed. Bucky was laughing when the two of you got to the dance floor. The music playing was the ending of a fast paced song, and the the dance floor began to empty out as people, laughing and panting were heading back to their seats as it switched to a slow song. The trumpets at the beginning sounded familiar, and Bucky waited for you to catch on. It didn’t take long before you smiled up at him.

“Candy by John Mercer…” You said slowly. “Someone influenced the playlist.” He shrugged.

“I may have had a word with the DJ about playing it at some point,” He said, making you shake your head.

“You’re such an old man,” You said, although he could hear the loving tone in your voice. Suddenly, a thought derailed him and his laughter disappeared, turning towards you as you took his hand in yours and began to sway with him to the beat of the music.

“Wait, have you been enhancing me in bed?” He whispered in a panic. You opened your mouth to answer, but someone cleared their throat behind Bucky. The two of you turned to see Tony standing there, bright blue tuxedo with his arms behind his back and his eyebrows raised. You tilted your head innocently.

“Come on, Tony,” You said, your head falling against Bucky’s shoulder as he wrapped his arm around your waist. “We’ve been good, and talking to other people all night. What’s the harm in one dance?” He stared between the two of you, obvious annoyance in his face, before letting out a sigh.

“I was just coming over here to remind you that we’re leaving tomorrow for Lithuania tomorrow,” He said, eyeing the two of you. “So try to keep all hangovers to a minimum please. It’s a long flight and no one wants to deal with that.” He gave them both a final once over before smirking and walking away. The way he shook his head as he disappeared in the crowd made you laugh.

“Long flights mean hotels after the mission,” You said in a sing, songy voice, turning back to Bucky and your slow dance. He chuckled.

“Just don’t forget your key card to your room this time,” He teased. You made a face at him before huffing.

“First of all, that was almost two years ago. Second of all, we’re a couple. Tony’s going to get us the same room. Third of all,” You paused, furrowing your eyebrows and tilting your head. “Did I never tell you?” He mirrored your look.

“Tell me what?” He asked. Your hand left his shoulder as you covered your face, laughing.

“I left my key in my room on purpose that night,” You said, peeking through your fingers at him in embarrassment. “It was an impulse decision and by the time I wanted to back out, the door was already closed and locked.” Bucky was laughing at this point, and tried to pull your hand from your face, but then you just pressed it against his shoulder.

“Why did you do that?” He said between laughs. Your body shook with laughter as you stood up straight again, looking around at the crowd.

“Because I liked you and you wouldn’t talk to me,” You said, finally looking at him and shrugging. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

He didn’t know it possible, but in that moment, Bucky loved you more than he ever had. The way the light made your face glow. The red of the dress complimenting your eyes. How full your cheeks were with your smile. But most importantly, feeling you against him, with the tips of your fingers gently digging into his back, was what really did him in every time. He no longer craved your touch. He didn’t have to. Anytime he needed you, he would just have to roll over in bed and pull you close, or grab your hand from your spot next to him. You were never far away, and he needn’t ever worry.

Leaning in so your lips were to his ear, Bucky felt a rise in his chest.

“Also, no I’ve never enhanced you in bed,” You assured him. He felt the anxiety deflate from his chest. When you were facing him once more, you had a devilish grin on your face. “But that’s quite an idea, isn’t it? We should definitely try that.” He could feel his blood start to rush.

“Maybe tomorrow night in the hotel?” He offered. You pouted your lips in dissatisfaction as you began to play with his tie.

“Would be such a shame if we had to wait,” You said in a low voice, peering up at him through your eyelashes. “Do you think anyone would notice if we left for a little bit?” You had just barely finished your sentence when he began dragging you towards the elevators.

“I actually think we’re calling it a night,” He said, picking up his pace as you ran to catch up. Your laugh echoed down the hallways as the two of you got to the elevator. The doors hadn’t even opened yet but that didn’t stop him from having his hands all over you, his lips on your neck. When the doors opened, he lead you inside, suddenly pulling away from you.

“Is this how you imagined it would go? When you came into my hotel room that night?” He asked you, randomly. “Did you think we’d become all of this?” You didn’t hesitate for a second before shaking your head.

“I really thought I’d only get up to trying to cuddle you and then you’d kick me out,” You said, your grip on his upper arms growing tighter. The smile you gave him filled him with warmth. “This was so much better than I ever could’ve imagined.”

And he agreed.

Than I’ve ever been

____________________________

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owletstarlet · 6 years

Note

Ooh I can't wait for these! 11 for tanunatsu please??

#11 from this list: “I almost lost you” kiss

Established relationship because I damn well said so

“Wake up.”

The plea tumbles from Kaname’s lips and it’s soft but it feels manic. His hands are shaking where they hover above Natsume’s chest; he’s barely breathing and his pulse is thready but he’s alive, he’s alive he’s alive he’s alive—

Kaname’s afraid to touch, now; as much as every instinct is telling him to gather Natsume into his arms and never let go, he can’t tell if he’s injured. He doesn’t look it, mostly he just looks cold; the pallor of his face under the clear brightness of a winter moon, lips gone blue, and actual patches of frost spangled across his damp pajamas. But he’s so still, and there’s blackened blood under his nose, trailing halfway down his cheek on one side before it had dried, and Kaname thinks he might be sick.

“I need you to wake up.” His voice splinters halfway through, and he takes Natsume’s face in his hands, so carefully. “Please.” And god, his skin is a temperature that skin should never ever be. His thumbs trace the dark divots below his eyes. He wants to grab his shoulders, shake him, yell and scream until he opens his eyes and calmly tells Kaname the blatant and oft-repeated lie that everything is just fine here.

He can’t see Ponta, he’s not changed back to a visible form but he can feel the wall of warmth at his back. He turns towards that warmth, now, where he can make out a mass of translucent white right in front of his nose, and this close to it he can barely see the trees beyond.

“He won’t wake up,” Kaname says, and it sounds so obvious, childish.

Then, a part of that white mass moves in close just beside his shoulder, where he would more or less imagine Ponta’s head to be. A gust of air, warm and strong, passes over Kaname’s hands and ruffles Natsume’s hair.

He doesn’t stir.

Kaname hears a faint sound, almost like a deep harrumph, before a white burst of smoke erupts around him. Then Ponta is there, a cat once more, just by Kaname’s knee. “No need to be so delicate,” he says, testily. “You won’t break him. He’s just sleeping. Could’ve picked a better place to do it.”

Kaname could’ve sobbed from relief. His hands shift down to Natsume’s shoulders. “What happened?”

Ponta scoffs. “That yuki-onna is what happened.”

“Where—”

“Gone, now, I’d say. And good riddance. Oi,” he adds, waddling up to the side of Natsume’s head and batting him on the nose. “Don’t nap here, moron. Let’s go already.”

Taking Ponta’s lead, Kaname shakes Natsume’s shoulders himself; tentatively, at first, then much harder, because Ponta’s right, he can’t stay out here any longer. But Natsume’s head just lolls back onto the underbrush, and Kaname bites the inside of his cheek. “Come on, come back,” he says, loud as he can through the panic still threatening to snuff out his voice altogether. “You can come sleep in my bed again, okay? It’s so cold out here.”

When that garners no response, Ponta’s eyes narrow. “This is taking too long.” Then, without warning and in a move that should’ve been altogether impossible, he spins right around and launches a sharp kick right at Natsume’s face, with enough force behind it to knock his whole head to one side.

“Don’t—”

But it’s only then Natsume’s eyelids flutter.

“Mnn…ow.”

The noise that escapes Kaname’s throat then is very much like a sob. He cradles Natsume’s face between his hands once more and leans in close, chest constricting. Natsume’s own eyes are half-mast and dull, an uncomprehending gaze drifting over his surroundings and right over Kaname, not focusing on any one thing. That is, until Ponta wriggles in between him and Kaname, putting himself nose-to-nose with Natsume and glaring.

“Idiot,” he snaps. “This is what you get for letting a snow demon possess you. You’re damned lucky Tanuma woke up in time to see you were gone or you’d have been long dead by morning.”

Natsume doesn’t seem to really register a word of that, but his eyes become a little bit clearer at the sound of Ponta’s biting tone. He squints a bit, frowns.

“Sensei…?” And, after a moment, gaze shifting upwards, “…Tanuma?”

Ponta ducks out of the way then, with a huff, and Kaname leans in close. “Yeah.” The single word feels like a burst of relief. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Natsume echoes, vaguely, giving Kaname a tiny smile.

After a moment, his forehead scrunches up, and beside him his fingers twitch in the dirt and shriveled leaves. “What—a-are we outside?”

Kaname just nods, tightly, not at all having it in him to elaborate if Natsume doesn’t remember.

“Oh…you’re crying.” And that vagueness in his voice and eyes is quickly replacing itself with distress when he takes in Kaname’s face.

Kaname just nods again, swallows hard; now is not the time for a breakdown, it’s not, he can do that later when Natsume is warm and safe and not watching it happen.

“Well, of course he is,” Ponta mutters. “A minute ago he thought he just found your corpse.”

“…oh.” The realization in his wide eyes shifts to something more like horror, then shame. “Tanuma, I’m sor—”

But the words are lost because Kaname’s kissing him, then. It’s a fierce, desperate thing, faces mashed together, his fingers curling in Natsume’s hair like he’ll evaporate into the January night if Kaname can’t hold him tight enough, every muscle in his own body rigid with residual terror.

Natsume remains motionless beneath him, cold mouth perfectly still. It feels as though he’s holding his breath.

But it’s just enough like kissing some lifeless thing, that that thought alone is enough to send him reeling back.

When he looks down, though, Natsume’s just watching him, eyes clear and soft and very, very worried.

Kaname blows out a long breath before he can trust himself to speak. “Your lips are freezing,” he says, with a little chuckle that doesn’t at all sound right. “And god, there’s ice in your hair…” His fingers comb back Natsume’s fringe.

“I’m okay,” Natsume starts, and Ponta promptly snorts. “Ah. I mean,” he amends, softly, “I don’t feel cold. Just…sleepy, kind of.”

“No sleeping.” The words come out louder than he’d meant them to, sharp and frightened. “Not until we get you back and warmed up,” he adds, forcing a calmer tone. He bends down, quickly presses his lips to the frigid skin of Natsume’s forehead, then shrugs off his jacket to drape across Natsume’s chest.

When he looks again, some of the trepidation has bled out of Natsume’s eyes, replaced with something a little warmer, drowsier. Trusting.

Kaname cups his cheek, tries to ignore the tremble in his fingers. “Let’s go home.”

***

Natsume’s recollection of the incident, of how he’d ended up half frozen in the forest, comes back to him soon enough. Kaname makes him tell it, in order to keep him awake while he’s getting him into the tub to thaw him out.

The yuki-onna had come to him initially just a few days prior, just as school was ending and the New Year’s break began. She was lost, and very weak, and Ponta had dispassionately noted how odd it was for her to have not vanished altogether. She’d strayed so far south of the more common haunts of yuki-onna, where the winters were so mild and snow so rare. Natsume never found out why she’d come, she claimed to not quite recall, but she hadn’t come alone; her sister had been by her side. But the two had become separated, apparently, on a windy night. She’d been frantic, her sister was hardly stronger than she was, but she’d heard tell from a few of the local youkai that if she were in trouble, she ought to seek out Natsume-sama for help. Ponta hadn’t been especially fond of the idea, given the particular penchant of her whole kind for killing off humans in creative ways, and skeptical about the gaps in her memory—which needless to say had left Kaname nice and anxious, as well as Taki when she’d heard. But Ponta had conceded that she was clearly frail, just on the brink of fading away entirely if she couldn’t find someone or something to possess, and he genuinely hadn’t believed that she could do Natsume any real physical harm by simply hitching a ride in his body until her sister was found. She wouldn’t dare, when endangering him would be endangering herself.

And that had seemed to be the truth, at first. The New Year’s season had always necessitated a lot of travel for Dad, and with Natsume having planned to stay over most of the nights that Dad would be away, Kaname had had plenty of time to observe him, to make sure he was as fine as he claimed to be. But he’d looked to be perfectly well, not even a bit pale or fatigued or any of the general red flags Kaname had come to associate with youkai involvement. If anything, he was livelier and better-rested now that school was out and he was free to spend his days doing nothing of consequence, though he had confided that he was worried for the yuki-onna—he could barely sense her presence, he’d said, and most of the time she seemed to be asleep anyhow. Which was going to make tracking down her sister a tall order, if she couldn’t stay awake long enough to help at all, to tell them what they should even be looking for.

Up until tonight, of course. Kaname supposes in retrospect that he should’ve realized something was off when they’d settled in for bed, when he’d pulled Natsume close against his chest and frowned, realizing just how cool his skin felt all over. But Natsume waved it off when he asked, seeming for all the world to be perfectly content and sleepy, merely yawning and burrowing his face deeper against Kaname’s pajama shirt as Kaname tugged an extra blanket over them both.

When Kaname started awake, hours later, it was to a freezing room, an open window and an empty bed. And Ponta, clearly just arrived back from an evening of New Year’s revelry, asking just where the hell Natsume had gotten off to.

None of them are completely sure what changed, the coming-together of factors that finally allowed the yuki-onna to awaken, and to carry Natsume’s body away so deep into the forest that when he finally regained his senses he couldn’t find his way back again. Ponta’s best guess was that it was simply a matter of the temperature dropping in the night, enough for the ground to properly freeze for the first time in weeks. Enough to rouse the missing sister, to draw her out of wherever she had secluded herself to preserve her own strength, to start her back on her own search. And, as Natsume understood it from his own hazy recollection, she’d passed close enough by Kaname’s house in this search that her sister had sensed it, mustered what bit of energy she’d regained from resting within Natsume, and managed to well and truly take him over, enough to leave the house and give chase. The sister had fled, not realizing the possession and fearing that she was being pursued by an exorcist, until her limited strength failed her and Natsume’s body had caught up.

It was a happy ending, for the two of them, as far as Natsume knew, though admittedly they’d said little more to him than their thanks before vanishing into the night together. And in doing so, had left Natsume stranded and barefoot in his pajamas, in an unfamiliar part of the forest.

And to be fair, they wouldn’t necessarily have had any reason to know he was unfamiliar with it, or that he couldn’t just go back the way he came—after all, when they’d found him he hadn’t been that far away, he could only have gotten so far on foot. But Kaname doesn’t feel quite so forgiving on the matter, especially when Natsume told what happened next.

Because he’d scarcely begun to realize just how lost he was when he’d become drowsy, and dizzy. Not cold, he’d said; not really, and in no discernible pain, but after a few minutes he’d ended up on his hands and knees in the underbrush, his head reeling. And the next thing he’d known, Ponta was kicking him in the face.

At the very least, Kaname supposes he’s grateful that Natsume truly didn’t seem to feel the cold. Not until halfway through his bath, anyways, when the shivering set in, but by then he was well on his way to being a normal human temperature once more. And that’s the other thing Kaname can’t quite forgive, that both yuki-onna had been so apparently blind to the fact that they’d nearly frozen him to death. Natsume for his part genuinely hadn’t noticed; he’d been surprised when Kaname pointed out the ice on his clothes and in his hair. And, as Ponta had (reasonably) pointed out, yuki-onna in general were not known for any dealings with a human that a human ever walked away from, so it was likely they had no idea the kind of unintentional damage they’d inflicted. But regardless, if Ponta had found him any later than he had, it unquestionably would’ve been too late.

He’s back in bed, now, bath finished, swaddled up in every extra blanket that Kaname could find. He had been very reluctant to leave the room even for the two or so minutes it took to locate said blankets, the fact that Ponta was literally sitting perched on top of Natsume’s chest when he’d left (and sending Kaname off with a longsuffering “just go already, I won’t let him wander off again”) notwithstanding. He had tried not to visibly rush back to the bed when he returned, but the panic must’ve been a little too obvious in his eyes, because Natsume immediately tried to prop himself up on his elbows, giving him a smile that was surely meant to be reassuring but far too weary around the edges to be so. Kaname had just laid him back down, wordlessly, with a quick kiss to the forehead before he began situating the blankets. Ponta had given up his spot on Natsume’s chest in favor of settling down instead near his thigh.

“Okay,” he says, once he’s finished fussing with the bedding. “How cold are you?” Which might be an idiotic question, if Kaname’s lips on his skin just now were anything to go by, the answer is still very. But he’s learned by now, when asking after Natsume’s wellbeing, to phrase it so as not to allow him the out of merely saying he’s fine when he obviously isn’t, otherwise he’d be claiming he was just fine up to his dying breath.

And to Natsume’s credit, he does try to be more honest about it, nowadays, to Kaname, to their friends and to the Fujiwaras, though it’s so visibly difficult for him to try to relearn every instinct he has just to let on that he’s unwell.

“I’m…it’s not so bad anymore.” His voice is a little muffled; he’s buried up to the nose in soft fleece. “I don’t want to move, though.”

“You shouldn’t be moving around so much anyways, with your feet in that state,” Kaname says, mouth twisting. Natsume hadn’t really been aware of it until they’d gotten back, but taking off through the woods at top speed had torn up his skin pretty thoroughly, cuts and scratches up to the ankle that had bled in the bathwater, and the nail on one foot had been ripped clean off. Kaname had done what he could with a first aid kit, Natsume’s blood on his fingertips enough to set his stomach churning but knowing his aversion to hospital trips.

“Are you gonna just carry me everywhere, then?” Natsume’s voice is soft and sleepy.

“If you need me to,” he says, his returning smile sitting brittle on his lips, sliding his fingers through Natsume’s still-damp hair and wondering if he dried it well enough. “But it’d be better for you to just stay in bed.”

Natsume blinks up at him; he can’t seem to keep his eyes open all the way. “You know…I’m sorry about the circumstances, but it is pretty fun when you carry me.” An honest-to-god delirious giggle, then. “You’re strong.”

“I’m not that strong.” An easy counter. “You’re not that heavy.” He pauses, realizing he’d been hovering in an awkward half-crouch beside the bed that’s making his thighs ache, and sits on the edge of the mattress. Ponta shoots him a brief exasperated look, make up your mind already. “Do your feet hurt a lot? I can find you medicine if it’d help you sleep.”

“Mm…no, they’ll be alright…” he frowns a little, and Kaname feels a movement by his hip, and realizes that Natsume’s trying to work his hand free of the many blankets tucked tight around him. Kaname tugs them loose, only to have pale fingers catch his sleeve.

“Don’t you want to lie down?”

No, Kaname thinks, and if he wasn’t sitting he’s pretty sure he’d be pacing. But there’s a quiet apprehension in Natsume’s words, so Kaname gives a constrained nod instead. “Let me just get the lights.”

It doesn’t actually help his nerves any, lying in the exact same position they’d fallen asleep in earlier that night; the chilly tip of Natsume’s nose brushing against his breastbone and Kaname’s arm draped over his shoulders. When the occasional shiver comes, he rubs Natsume’s back, and Kaname does appreciate that much, it means he can feel him breathing better. Natsume always seems to migrate into this same position; it means he’s comfortable and Kaname’s glad for that but he certainly can’t say the same. Even Ponta keeping a lookout only helps so much with that; every muscle and nerve in him feels like a taut rubber band twisted over and over on itself, acid churning in an empty stomach. He starts at every little sound, every slight creak of the aging house settling around them. There’s no real noise from outside; the night is still, no wind, no forest creatures making any sound this deep into the winter. Objectively that silence should be better; but it’s not, really, it just feels all the more ominous. Kaname’s wound so tightly, ears pricked for every sound, that all it takes is for Ponta to speak out of the blue to startle him so badly that it wakes Natsume back up.

“Calm down, brat.” He pokes at Kaname’s ankle with a single paw. “I was just going to say it’s actually safe for you to go to sleep, hard as that is for you to believe, apparently.”

“I know,” Kaname murmurs, watching Natsume’s forehead scrunch up as his awareness returns. “Sorry. I’m trying.”

“Are you, though?” Ponta drawls, and Kaname sends a tired glare in his general direction.

“Hm…mm?” Natsume frowns, eyes sliding slowly into focus, reflecting the light of the single lamp Kaname had left on beside the bed.

Kaname smooths back his hair with one hand. “It’s alright.” He tries to sound surer than he feels, on that point. “Go back to sleep.”

“What’s…” His frown deepens, both his hands sliding up to the sides of Kaname’s chest under the covers. “Your heart’s beating so fast.”

“That’s because been busy picturing all the different ways you could possibly prance off and die the second he takes his eyes off you,” Ponta says flatly, and Kaname winces.

“…Oh.” He lets out a slow breath. Then, looking resolute, he inches himself upward, wriggling out from under the mass of bedclothes piled on top of him until he’s nose-to-nose with Kaname, his cheek squashed against the pillow. He’s panting a little from the effort, gripping Kaname’s shirt with both hands, but his eyes are steady. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“Don’t be.” Kaname reaches up, traces the pad of his thumb across Natsume’s cheekbone, the skin cool but no longer cold to the touch. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You were being kind, not reckless. You even talked to me about it first.” The significance of that had not been lost on Kaname, either, that Natsume had come to him with this before coming to a decision, even when all evidence pointed to it being a fairly benign situation to involve himself in. At the time Kaname thought his heart might just have grown too full to ever fit properly in his chest again. And yet here Natsume is now, trying to apologize for it. “We didn’t know this would happen,” Kaname adds, gently. He’s not certain he can be reassuring when his pulse is still hammering away like it is under Natsume’s hands, when there’s a current of nausea beneath the tight smile he offers. But he can try, because Natsume deserves as much.

But then it’s Natsume who’s taking Kaname’s face into his own hands, and closing the distance between their lips. It’s as tender as it is deliberate, Natsume cupping his face and holding him there, as if Kaname’s the one that’s ephemeral, precious, who might slip away so easily. His lips are still rough and cracked from the cold, but his lashes tickle Kaname’s skin like moths’ wings.

“No, we didn’t know,” Natsume breathes, eventually, into the scant space between them. Their foreheads are pressed together still; his fingers have slid up and back into Kaname’s hair. “But that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt you, too.” He pulls back a little, then, eyes searching. But Kaname doesn’t know what to say to that, so he stays quiet, his chest tight.

“Thank you,” Natsume says. “For finding me.”

I didn’t find you, Kaname thinks, Ponta found you. But those words don’t come. What he says, instead, half-blurted, half-choked, is: “I love you.”

…oh.

“Oh,” Natsume echoes, softly, eyes widening into twin moons in the lamplight, and Kaname fleetingly thinks of sinking through the mattress and vanishing then and there. That…he had not meant to say that, just now. But he can’t (won’t) take it back, either. He forces himself to meet Natsume’s eyes, hopes to god he says something more because Kaname’s words are utterly spent.

“You’ve never said that, before,” Natsume adds, at long last. He chuckles, the sound of it breathy and stilted. “I guess I should get lost in the woods more often, huh.”

But Kaname can only stare, tongue-tied, through eyes that have begun to sting. Natsume pauses, taking in Kaname’s face before his brows scrunch together in apparent distress. “I’m sorry, that was a cruel thing to say, wasn’t it.” Gentle thumbs brush below Kaname’s eyes, swiping away the building moisture. “Please don’t cry. I’m sorry.”

It’s too late for that, Kaname thinks with some distant degree of frustration at himself. Natsume should definitely, definitely be resting right now. Not dealing with Kaname’s apparent inability to get a handle on himself, or some ill-timed confession. But here they are, and now Kaname’s the one clinging onto Natsume’s pajamas like a terrified child, face buried deep in his shoulder and shaking. And Natsume’s rubbing his back, so gently, kissing his hair and whispering to him to breathe, it’s alright, just breathe.

It’s ridiculous, really, that he can’t calm himself down until he’s practically cried himself inside out. His chest hurts, his head is buzzing and he’s soaked through the flannel on Natsume’s shoulder with tears and snot and spit—but the words I thought you were dead, I saw you and I thought you were dead have been playing on some awful loop in his brain for the past two hours and it’s all he can do not to repeat them now—if he does he’ll just lose it again.

Once his breathing has evened out to a semi-reasonable pace, the warm weight near his ankle shifts a bit, and he hears a sardonic, “Are you finished?”

“Sensei.” Natsume angles a slight kick in the cat’s general direction, but between Kaname’s own legs in the way and the swathes of bandages and blankets packed around them it doesn’t make it very far. “He does care,” Natsume mutters, and Kaname raises his head to see Natsume scowling at the foot of the bed. “He’s just being rude.”

“Of course I care.” Ponta blinks back at them, wholly unbothered. “He promised to make gratin tomorrow. He can’t do that if he’s cried himself to death, now can he.”

Natsume pointedly ignores that, before propping himself up on a trembling elbow just far enough to reach for the water bottle on Kaname’s dresser. “Here,” he says, his gentle smile incongruent with the way he almost drops the bottle between them. “You’ll get a headache.”

And Kaname can’t contest that, really. He can already feel the pressure mounting between his temples. He accepts it and winds up downing about half of it in two gulps. When he offers it back to Natsume to take his own drink he keeps his own hands over Natsume’s unsteady ones, but Kaname’s the one whose fingers have grown cold now.

“Better?” Natsume asks afterwards, voice still infinitely kind and patient but Kaname can practically see the fatigue etched into his face. Kaname just nods, sheepish. He should never have woken him.

“Um,” Natsume continues, less sure, “I’d ask if you wanted to talk about it right now, but…”

“N-no, thank you.” His voice comes out low and wrecked, and clearing his throat doesn’t make it any better. “You should rest.”

“Okay.” A pause, and Natsume gives him a long look, making no move to get settled back down under the covers just yet.

“What’s wrong?” Kaname asks, with some trepidation. Natsume’s eyes are wide, solemn but luminous.

“I love you too.”

…oh.

“Oh.” Kaname’s mouth feels very dry, suddenly. There’s a bubble of unbelievable warmth, of hope, rising in his chest, but anxiety follows fast behind. Natsume’s face looks so open right now, the kind of transparent expression that doesn’t often come easily for him and he’s waiting, waiting and Kaname has to say something and—

“You don’t have to say it just ‘cause I said it,” is what comes out, eventually. His voice still sounds rather like he swallowed a toad, and he clears his throat in vain, gaze dropping to some spot on the rumpled coverlet between them. “You don’t owe it to me or anything. You might not even remember any of this in the morning, anyways.”

He raises his eyes again when he feels cool fingers light on his chin. “Doesn’t matter,” he says. “It’s true, and you should know it.” Exhaustion notwithstanding, his voice is clear, and his eyes are so warm Kaname couldn’t look away again if he tried. “I love you, okay? I love you.”

Kaname just nods, he’s not sure if he wants to laugh or cry again or hyperventilate or possibly all three but then Natsume’s reaching for him and kissing him and kissing him, lips, forehead, eyelids, nose and cheeks, and Kaname doesn’t have to say anything at all. It’s all slow, feather-light and lingering; Natsume’s too tired for anything more but Kaname’s content to lie there and let himself be kissed, his mind resonating with it: I love you too, I love you, I love you…

“Sorry I scared you,” Natsume murmurs, eventually. His fingertips skim a lazy circle on Kaname’s shoulder, their noses nearly touching still. “I’ll do my best to not get lost again.”

“Not without me.”

Natsume’s lips twitch. “Okay. Not without you.”

***

Thanks for reading! I’ll take one more prompt from this list before starting the next part of Never Felt Like Any Blessing if anyone would like to submit one!

#psa don't give baths to hypothermic people #but i don't expect a high schooler and a magic cat to know that #and it's magic hypothermia so whatever #i'm not happy with this #but if I don't post it now I'm never going to #natsume takashi #tanuma kaname #tanunatsu #cha-lii #natsuyuu #natsume's book of friends #ask prompt #ask meme #owlet's fanfic #nyanko sensei #natsume yuujinchou

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avengerleague · 6 years

Text

‘Mimic’

Avengers x Female Reader

Chapter 1: Origin

Summary: The origin story for Y/n, a soon to be avenger. When a fight involving the avengers was the last thing you were expected to encounter on your walk back to your apartment one day. After trying to be a good Samaritan puts you in the wrong place at the wrong time, a strange device’s explosion cause results that you couldn’t have seen coming.

Word Count: 2690

a/n: Alright so in case you’re wondering the protagonist is going to have power mimicry. I didn’t want to be that bitch who spoils her own story but this is called ‘Mimic’ so I don’t think it would have been that hard to figure out anyway. I’ll further explain in the next chapter. Also, like I said in my last post, in my head this was going to end up being like Reader x Bucky but in a future scene I wrote out earlier it came together as a really cute Reader x Steve??? So if anyone has any opinions on this lmk like should I pick one, or try to do a love triangle type thing? w/e enjoy! Or don’t I can’t force you to feel anything!

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

New York City was no stranger to Avenger intervention. It was only a few short years ago that the they first assembled to save the world, in effect trashing the city as a whole. And while many New Yorkers still held a grudge about the widespread destruction that resulted, when chaos struck, there was no one else anyone would rather have around.

You were only a few minutes from your apartment when you heard people start screaming at the end of the block. You stopped in your tracks and pulled your earbuds out of your ear as a wave of people rushed towards you and away from something; it was practically a stampede. The fight or flight in you told you to follow the crowd and run screaming in the opposite direction, but there was a curious part of you that wanted to see what was happening for yourself. You stuffed your phone and headphones in your pocket and began to push through the crowd. Swimming upstream was hard enough without being shoved and elbowed, but soon enough you broke through the end of the mob to see the rest of the street was almost completely open. Almost. About 100 feet from you 7 guys in all black facing away from you were fighting 3 people whose faces you couldn’t see, two guys and a girl. Like intense fighting. You could see that one of the guys in black had something in his back pack that was glowing through the fabric. You made out that one of the three was dressed strangely, like in a morphsuit, and then wait, did the girl just… and did the guy on the left just… it can’t be the --

Before you could finish your thought, your eyes landed on something halfway between you and the people fighting. It was a little boy standing on the sidewalk crying, he must have lost his family in the chaos. He could only be about three or four and looked like he was too scared to move on his own. It’s not like you were the everyday hero type, but you couldn’t just leave the kid there.

Sticking close to the buildings on your left, you made your way over to the boy. There were random objects and debris all over the street from the panic a few minutes earlier, so you head to weave and climb your way over. After a bit of struggle, you finally reached him and kneeled down to try to console him. His crying eased but he still gave a few quiet sobs. “Hi buddy it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay,” you lightly placed your hands on the sides of his arms. “Do you know were your mom or dad went?” The boy wiped his cheek and pointed in the direction the crowd left. Another loud yell caught your attention, except this time it was coming from the direction of the fight. Now that you were closer you had a better view. There were two guys in black knocked out on the ground, maybe dead! That wasn’t really any of your business. The source of the yelling was another one of the guys in black – he was floating a couple feet in the air. Down on the ground you saw a girl with a reddish cloud coming from her hands presumably levitating him. She looked vaguely familiar, like you might have seen her on the news. And though you weren’t sure of her name, the way she was suspending this guy in the air, you were pretty sure she was in the Avengers. Your eyes darted to the right of her; is that Captain fucking America who just knocked that other guy out? Something on the left caught your attention; a guy in a red and blue full body suit swung off a building and tied a guy up with what looked like webbing of some sort. You’d seen him before, but you had no idea he was in with the Avengers. He was spider something, the spider, Spiderman? That left only two of the bad guys to go. Captain America grabbed the glowing thing out of the guy he’d knocked out’s bag and ran a couple feet away from the fighting to examine it while the other two held off the remaining bad guys. Something flying overhead caught your eye. Hold on, was that Iron Man? This really was the Avengers.

You shook yourself back into reality and refocused on this kid who desperately needed saving. You picked him up and tried to make your way back where you came from through the rubble. You’d only taken a few steps when you saw a woman come running towards you crying. The boy reached out towards her and called for her. You glanced back at Captain America; you were now close enough that you could hear him speaking into an earpiece while picking around at wires connected to the glowing box. “Tony, I’ve been able to shrink the blast radius and for the most part disarm the bomb, but I haven’t been able to stabilize it and I can’t get the timer to stop.” You didn’t have time to be concerned. You continued climbing through the debris and heard him talking into his earphone again from behind you, “How do we know it won’t be harmful? Even if it won’t physically blow something up we don’t know what it’s capable of”.

You finally reached the woman at the middle of the street at a fallen piece of a building that was now blocking the entire street. It was low enough that you could pass the boy over it, but you would need a running start or a boost to get over it yourself. “Thank you so much, I don’t know how to thank you,” his mother said as you lifted the boy over the rubble into her arms. “We got separated with all the craziness and then I couldn’t get through all the people” she said through tears of relief. “I was only doing what anybody would do,” you assured once he was safely across. “Now you should get out of here. I can manage getting across myself.” The woman nodded her head and backed away. “Thank you, truly.” She turned and ran.

You looked side to side along the piece of the barricaded street to find a place that you would be able to climb over and ran a couple feet to your left. You decided to take one final look back at Captain America and the Avengers. You looked over your shoulder and before you knew what was happening you were being dragged away from the barricade.

The guy held you around your neck and shoulders and pressed a gun to your temple. You had your feet on the ground, but he was holding you at an angle where you couldn’t stand. You managed to look up and see it was one of the guys in black. “Drop the device.” He threatened, “Or else.” Captain America put the glowing thing down and sat back on his feet with his hands up. The only other remaining bad guy grabbed the device from in front of cap and joined the guy who was currently holding a gun to your head. The Avenger girl and the Spiderman guy ran up behind Captain America panting. It was a stand-off.

Needless to say, this was not where you thought this day was going to end up when you woke up this morning.

“Back away, and the girl will be fine,” the guy holding the device said.” That’s when two shots came and struck the guys in black out of the blue, like literally, out of the sky.” You fell onto your hands and knees and looked up to see the one and only Iron Man land next to the other avengers who were still about 30 feet away from you. In a semi-robotic voice from inside the suit you heard him say “We don’t negotiate with terrorists”. A majorly cool line, but you didn’t really have time to appreciate it.

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

You looked at the glowing device still a few feet away from you and saw it was ticking down the final seconds until detonation. The avengers must have heard it too. One of them yelled “RUN!”

Without thinking you took off in the opposite direction of the device. You saw the Spiderman shoot his web at it and the girl use whatever powers she had to try and get it away from you, but it was too late. A second later with a boom you were blasted back and hit the broken building in the middle of the street. You were lying on the ground, but you felt pretty much okay, you didn’t feel like you’d been seriously injured or affected in any way. You pushed your hair out of your face and looked up to see the girl was rushing over to you. The blast must have knocked one of the guys into the other because they were both on the ground. While they were on the ground though, they were in about the same place that they were before, so you gathered they weren’t thrown back like you were. You looked around, Iron Man was gone.

“Are you okay?” she asked kneeling in front of you. She had brown hair, a whisper of an eastern European accent, and looked around your age, maybe a little younger. You shook your head and nodded at the same time, mostly just in shock at this turn of events. “Yeah I’m, I’m fine. I think I’m fine.”

“Steve only had time to shrink the blast radius to about 15 or 20 feet, so we were just out of reach, but you felt the full force. That’s why you were thrown back so far”. She pressed her earpiece into her ear and stopped talking, seemingly to hear someone talking to her. After a moment she nodded her head and refaced you. “Tony says that he scanned your vitals and you should be fine. No broken bones, no concussion, just a sprained wrist and some bruises.”

“Tony Stark?” Your eyes practically popped out of your head. The girl nodded “He’ll be back, he’s making sure the explosion was contained to this block”. Billionaire, dreamboat Tony Stark had done a scan on your body. How much could he see? Should I even be thinking about this right now? No, I’m sure I shouldn’t, and yet…

She offered you her hand and pulled you off the ground. “I’m Wanda by the way,” she said.

You started “I’m –” but got cut off when Captain America and Spiderman ran over.

You’d obviously seen pictures and videos of Steve Rogers before, hell, you even did a presentation on him once in middle school, but none of that could have told you about how utterly, downright handsome this man was in the flesh. “Wanda, is she okay?” He asked looking from you to her. The reason he probably hadn’t asked you himself was because your eyes were so wide from seeing him up-close and personal that you looked like you were in shock. Which you kind of were, but more of an attractive-man/avengers-shock than anything else.

“She’s alright.”

Captain America nodded his head and Iron Man (fucking Iron Man!) landed next to you. You gasped a little bit out of surprise but the other three seemed unphased by his falling out of the sky. Cap stuck his hand out towards you to shake.

“I’m Steve.”

You reached towards him, “I’m –” a reddish cloud came out from your hand just before it met his and he was thrown down the street, landing on his stomach. Steve groaned and pushed himself up to his elbows.

For a moment nobody said anything. They looked from you to Captain America and back to you. You look down at your hands. You were just as shocked as they were. No, you were certainly more shocked.

Iron Man points to Wanda, “I thought that was your thing?”

“It looked like it was my thing, but it wasn’t me, I swear.”

“What are there two of them?” Spiderman muffled through his mask throwing his hands up.

Everyone turned to look at you. Cap walked back over, his hair slightly messier. You shook your head with wide eyes, “I swear that’s never happened before”. They all stayed silent for another moment.

“Well,” Iron Man broke the silence, “She obviously has to come back with us.”

Cap turned to him, “Hold on Tony, we don’t know what this situation was, we don’t know who these guys are. We’re lucky we were even around in the first place. This could be out of our jurisdiction.”

Spiderman raised his hand, “Are we even sure we have a jurisdiction?”

“Maybe we should take her to a hospital,” he continued.

Iron Man shook his head, (or his helmet I guess). “Cap, she’s perfectly healthy, physically. A hospital would be completely useless. Whatever that was,” he said motioning to your hands, “Came from that glowstick on steroids. When someone can throw someone 15 feet in the air without touching them, that is very much in our jurisdiction.”

Cap nodded his head realizing Tony was probably right. “Right. Now that all of that’s settled,” Tony Stark turned to you, “Are you ready to go to the Avengers facility?” You were more than a little thrown off. The avengers facility? That was like the Batcave, the inner sanctum. Should you just leave everything and go? Did you even have a choice? You didn’t like your job that much, you didn’t like your roommate that much, so what did you have to lose? “I’m in.”

“Great! Now you four are all going to have to be quarantined until we figure out what’s wrong with this young lady, and if it affected the rest of you, you know, with your standing here right now”.

“Hang on, what do you mean ‘you four’, what about you?” Wanda protested.

“You may or may not have noticed, miss teenage drama queen, but I happen to be in an airtight suit with a filtration system. Nothing gets in here but pristine air” Tony boasted.

“What about me?” Spiderman chimed in. “You designed my suit; did you give me a filtration system?”

“No, that thing’s mostly polyester. Anyway, since you three were out of the blast radius I don’t think it should have affected you in the same way. I mean you two can’t make things fly with your hands, can you?” he said pointing to Spiderman and Cap. “Peter?”

Spiderman – Peter, sighed and made an intensely half-hearted effort to mimic the hand motions you had seen Wanda doing earlier during the fight. You had to admit, it made him look pretty stupid, but nothing happened. “Yeah that’s what I figured. Super glad I got to see that though”. He leaned down and picked up the device. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. just called four self-driving cars to bring you guys back upstate, and she let the police know to block off this street just in case it ends up being toxic or something.” You looked over at the others to see if they were as troubled by that statement as you were, and with the exception of Peter (who even through a mask you could tell had eyes nearly popping out of his head), they looked more inconvenienced and annoyed at Tony than anything. “I wouldn’t give it too much thought. So, I’m gonna fly back because I can fly, and I guess I’ll meet you all there”.

Wanda rolled her eyes, “ You know you’re not the only Avenger who can fly, Tony.”

“I don’t know, yours is more levitating. You can’t do distance. It’s sad.”

“Suck it Tony”

“Wow, she’s really catching on to American slang. ‘Suck it’, that’s really something. You teaching her this Parker?”

Steve turned to you once more, “What did you say your name was again?”

You let out a small laugh, “I actually didn’t get to say. I’m Y/n”.

---

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

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Tagged Blogs:

@avengerleague

@thewhinersoldierwhi

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carvers-hawke · 7 years

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more fenhawke

i’ve been having a lot of fenhawke feels lately, which got me thinking about The Scene in the romance.

anyways, as someone with a lot of hawkes who have romanced fenris, this makes me think about how they handle that night. none of them handle it poorly but they do handle it a lot differently than one another.

i’ll start with yllwyn’s romance, because in my canon, her and fenris don’t actually have a night like that.

so the thing with yllwyn is that, when her family comes from ferelden, she’s already a widow thanks to the blight, and she’s got a daughter. she plays her emotions close to her chest, and while it doesn’t take much for her to befriend someone, she’s not the type of person to want casual sex, or sex before a relationship at all. not only is she demisexual, but she has to consider that anyone she’s going to be in a relationship with, is also going to be involved in her daughter’s life.

and when she starts realizing that her and fenris have feelings for each other, it’s a very slow and cautious thing. fenris is trying to navigate the fact that he’s actually falling in love, and everything that means for him and yllwyn is trying to make sure that what they have is something that would last, before it really starts at all. so by the time A Bitter Pill rolls around, and fenris shows up at the hawke estate, they haven’t had sex yet. instead of the against the wall makeout scene that presumably fades to against the wall sex, yllwyn insists that they talk, and just talk, because fenris isn’t in a great emotional state. then, that night the memories still trigger, but instead of completely shutting down, he feels he can actually speak to yllwyn about this, and they cool things between them until he has a better chance of figuring out how he wants to proceed. there’s no three year break, no sitting alone in their respective mansions pining, or any of that.

they over come it, and then after the fight with the arishok and subsequent recovery period there’s against the wall sex.

rysk is very different, he’s a purple hawke as opposed to yllwyn being blue, and the romance proceeds almost exactly like in game.

there is a lot of shameless flirting, UST, and genuine affection which is confusing for both of them, and it becomes a knotted up tangled mess that sort of boils over at an inopportune time.

but there is genuine affection, and rysk already loves cares a lot about fenris, so when he wakes up to find fenris freaking out and preparing to leave, he doesn’t stop him from running. but he also doesn’t just let fenris leave with the last word.

“Wait.” Fenris froze at that quiet command, the patience in it, something that soothed over his frazzled nerves.

The elf turned back to the bed, half expecting Rysk to beg him to stay. Half afraid that if the warrior did… he would shed his armor and curl back into the lush bed. Instead Rysk pushed himself up, unashamedly naked as he crossed the room and turned towards a chest, bending down to pull out a smaller version of the crest hanging above the main hearth and a tattered red scarf.

“Take these. There are still gangs, and guards, and Maker knows what else roaming the streets of Hightown.” Rysk pressed them into his hands. “I told you once when we first met Fenris, I won't ask anything of you that you're not ready to give. I meant that. And you deserve more than a brief moment of happiness so, when you're ready, I'll be here. Always.”

And that, that was a gift that he was sure he didn't deserve, but one he intended to cherish nonetheless.

rysk realizes that this isn't something that's really about him, and it's not something that he can fix, so he's willing to step back and let fenris work out for himself what it is he wants, and needs. during that time, and the three year break, he still maintains a constant, friendly and supportive presence, but maintains himself in a way to establish that he's not looking to pressure fenris into anything.

for three years, it’s business as usual, cards at the hanged man, reading lessons, sparring and traipsing around kirkwall righting wrongs and saving lives. and then danarius comes, and rysk is listening, jovial and good-natured until suddenly he’s not. because fenris has seen how he toes the line of his temper, how he’ll smile and laugh and joke moments before flying into a berserker’s rage. all of that rage directed at danarius is a frightening, breathtaking thing, but in the end, this isn’t about rysk it’s about fenris. he realizes then, that rysk won’t take anything he’s not ready to give, but this time… he’s ready to give everything.

and they get to be happy, in kirkwall, because the gallows and meredith are sorted out without anyone needing to blow up the chantry, and for a few years rysk is the viscount and fenris is a noble, and it amuses him to no end to see how that pisses everyone off.

and then there's hayden.

hayden who has never actually been in love, or allowed herself to get close to someone in part because of her magic and in part because emotions are weird and she already feels so much for her family, adding another person into the mix just sounds crazy. so hayden is another purple hawke, and from the beginning she doesn’t argue with or question fenris’ distrust of mages, because how could she? he spent his entire life living the worst of what mages can be, has been physically, emotionally and sexually abused by mages, there’s nothing she can say about ‘not all mages’ that will ever erase that.

-she does challenge that view because she is a mage, and she knows the plight of mages in southern thedas, but she challenges by example and by refusing to compromise on her beliefs. yes there are bad, awful, mages but there are also good people being abused by a system that was slanted against them in the first place-

the thing about hayden is, she’s always hyper aware of the impact of her magic, and keeps it on such a tight leash. she’s painfully careful to make sure that she never oversteps her bounds with fenris, but he is someone that she wants to know, to befriend, to earn the respect of. because he has such practical knowledge, he’s so intelligent and resourceful, and she likes his biting humor. she loves that he knows how to speak qunlat, that he understands what she’s trying to say even when she can’t find the words to say it properly.

she loves him so much that it’s frightening, and it hurts, and it’s really the first time she’s ever been in love with someone.

so when it comes down to it, and fenris is apologizing, and telling her it’s his fault, that he was a fool to hope for even a bit of happiness, he’s not the only one who ends up shutting down emotionally. because of course something bad was going to happen; magic has only ever hurt him, and now her magic has hurt him too. that isn’t to say that fenris ever does anything to imply that she’s at fault, but hayden blames herself for this, even if it isn’t true. cuz that’s how anxiety works, especially in situations like this.

it’s not three years of pining though, because then the qunari attack and while her twin is fighting his way up to hightown to protect the nobles, hayden’s got a small group looking to protect the little people of kirkwall. and of course fenris is with her, because where else would he be, and of course she gets injured. so he’s confronted with the fact that he loves this woman, while she’s practically bleeding out in his arms, but lucky them she’s a spirit healer, and lucky them kirkwall is saved with the help of both of its champions.

before fenris can tell her about this potent revelation that he had, however, she disappears with isabella, off to sail the seas and see the world, and spend a year travelling up and down, studying magic in rivain. but then she comes back, and then they talk, and then they get their happily ever after, in spite of tevinter slavers and someone getting trapped in the fade before making a deal with mythal.

also technically there’s moira, but she doesn’t get together with fenris until after the end of da 2, so really she doesn’t apply to this situation. but there is angry wall sex and it is good.

#fenhawke #hawris #my fic #i mean it's technically fic at this point #my hawkes #custom hawkes #yllwyn hawke #rysk hawke #hayden hawke #moira hawke #i fucking love fenris #and i love how differently they love him #stay tuned for next week's long ass post about how my hawkes react to anders blowing up the chantry

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boneclan-warriors · 5 years

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Mechanics

The BoneClan server incorporates a few DND mechanics, although most of it is based around the Warriors Survival Game for help!

(In case you don’t know what I’m referring to this might jog your memory:)

(If you plan to join, I also wouldn’t mind if you used that in place of some parts of the character form!)

Here is an explanation and guide to the mechanics of BoneClan:

Strength - Strength represents your cat’s physical power and coordination. Cats with higher Strength scores are better able to perform physical activities. When they fight, Strength makes their blows hit harder (though not necessarily land more accurately). Cats with the higher Strength scores are usually larger or more muscular, and more imposing than cats with lower Strength scores. They tend to make good warriors and hunters, and are generally admired for providing protection for the Clan. Choose a high Strength score if your cat is good at fighting, hunting, and other physical activities.

Intelligence - Intelligence represents your cat’s general knowledge and ability to solve problems. Cats with higher Intelligence scores are better able to remember things, figure out ways to deal with new situations, and make complex plans. When they fight, Intelligence lets them accurately strike (though not necessarily with extra power). Cats with higher Intelligence scores are usually considered to be the cleverest and are looked to in emergencies that require quick reactions. They are generally admired for having a keen understanding of the ways of the world. Choose a high Intelligence score if your cat is good at tracking, spotting danger, and understanding mysteries.

Spirit - Spirit represents your cat’s general willpower and empathy. Cats with higher Spirit scores are better at resisting curiosity, anticipating what someone else will do, and sensing unseen changes. When they fight, Spirit lets them anticipate where foes are likely to strike and dodge (though it doesn’t help strike back). Cats with higher Spirit scores are usually considered very insightful, often asked for advice on personal matters, and generally admired for being able to see through problems. Choose a high Spirit score if your cat is good at understanding the thoughts and problems of other cats, or takes on a role of responsibility such as being a cat who others depend on for advice.

Skills:

Arch(Strength) - This Skill represents a cat’s ability to look mean and intimidating. This can be used to frighten away an enemy or to show a Clanmate how serious you are about a subject. A contest of arching is sometimes used by two or more cats who find themselves in a confrontation but want to resolve the matter without actually fighting.

Bite(Strength) - This is a measure of how much damage a cat can do when biting. Because bites cause so much damage, they are generally only used when hunting or fighting wild animals. Even when Clans are in serious battles, warriors usually only fight using swats and wrestling.

Climb(Strength) - This Skill determines how quickly and skillfully a cat can go up obstacles. It also represents how securely a cat can hang onto perches when something tries to shake them loose.

Focus(Spirit) - Focus represents a cat’s ability to concentrate on a certain task and ignore other distractions.

Hiss(Spirit) - This represents a cat’s ability to voice their aggressive feelings. Hissing is a way of warning others of approaching danger, or telling other animals that you have no intention of running away and that they should only come closer if they truly want a fight.

Jump(Spirit) - Jumping is usually defensive. When a cat is surprised by something that presents some kind of danger, they may jump. A cat will also jump during battle to avoid an enemy’s attacks. Cats generally use this Skill to get down from high places safely. In cases where a cat is knocked off or falls from a high place accidentally, the Jump Skill allows them to land safely on all four feet rather than crash to the ground and risk a serious injury.

Listen(Spirit) - This Skill is used to tell if a cat notices a certain noise, a crucial part of hunting, and noticing the approach of any unexpected visitors. Because cats’ ears are so sharp, the Listen Skill can also be used to tell them where a sound is coming from and who/what it is.

Ponder(Intelligence) - Cats use this Skill to figure out things they have never encountered or been taught before. This can be straightforward or complex. The Ponder Skill only provides a cat with an idea and may need another Skill entirely.

Pounce(Intelligence) - Pouncing is always aggressive or offensive. This Skill is mostly used to land on and kill prey. In a fight a cat may also use it to leap on an opponent and begin wrestling. Pounce is the Skill used when a cat wants to go over a space or on something up to two body lengths away without climbing.

See(Intelligence) - This is the Skill used to determine if a cat can notice something using only their eyes. This is easier if the thing is moving. See is one of the Skills used during patrols. Cats also use their See Skill to tell if anything has changed since they last encountered something.

Smell(Intelligence) - A cat can use the Smell Skill to tell what’s nearby. Because cats’ noses are so sensitive, Smell can identify exactly where the thing is, even if the cat can’t see it. In addition, cats can use the Smell Skill to follow scent trails. The older a scent trail is, the harder it is to follow.

Sneak(Spirit) - More than just being quiet or stealthy, the Sneak Skill is a combination of those plus an element of timing and anticipating where your quarry will be looking at any moment, allowing you to move undetected.

Swat(Intelligence) - This Skill is used to see if a cat can hit something with their paw. Claws can be sheathed or unsheathed. The difference between an ordinary blow and an especially effective one is not having a higher Strength score, but timing and placement.

Swim(Strength) - A skill to be able to swim long enough to safely reach dry land.

Wrestle(Strength) - Wrestling is for cats fighting on top of each other and too close to swat. It’s a good way for larger cats to immobilize smaller opponents, and likely the best way for a smaller cat to hurt a larger foe.

Knacks:

Alertness(1 energy) - Allows your cat to be even more attentive than usual to things that are happening in the general area. Can be used twice in a row(double bonus if you do)

Bonus to: Focus, Listen, Ponder, See, Smell.

Requires: 2 Spirit

Animal Lore(1 energy) - Your cat has a great deal of knowledge about animals (not including Twolegs). Can be used consecutively with the bonus increasing by 1

Bonus to(related to animal behavior): Ponder, Intelligence

Requires: 4 Intelligence

Balance(1 energy) - Helps a cat to move safely along small walkways. Can be used more than once

Bonus to: Climb, Strength

Requires: 2 Spirit

Belly Rake(2 energy) - May be used in a fight. It involves striking with your cat’s back claws to injure an opponent’s underbelly while wrestling. This is treated like a swat but does 1 extra point of damage. Can be done twice with 1 energy the second time

Bonus to: Wrestle

Requires: 4 Strength

Chomp(3 energy)- A vicious type of bite attack that temporarily immobilizes the target and lets your cat do extra damage. If you hold on, your opponent remains pinned until your next turn. If you let go, you do damage to your opponent as though you had landed a second successful bite

Bonus to: Bite

Requires: 6 Strength

Clan Lore(1 energy) - Has a great deal of knowledge about the history of the Clans and cats in general. Can be used consecutively with the bonus increasing by 1

Bonus to(involving knowledge of the history, habits, or beliefs of Clans and Clan cat culture): Ponder, Intelligence

Requires: 4 Intelligence

Dash(1 energy) - Lets your cat move twice as fast, dodge, and spring off nearby objects to cover more ground than running normally allows. Certain terrain, objects that can’t be easily avoided, injuries, and climbing prevent this.

Requires: 2 Strength

Dodge(1 energy) - Be able to Leap more quickly and surely out of harm’s way. Can be used 3 times in a row with the bonus increasing by one each time.

Bonus to: Jump

Requires: 4 Spirit

Feint(1 energy) - Use misdirection and quick movement to improve the accuracy of swat. Can be used 3 times in a row with the bonus increasing by one each time.

Bonus to: Swat

Requires: 2 Intelligence

Herb Lore(1 energy) - Has a lot of knowledge about healing herbs and other natural remedies. You know how to treat various injuries and illnesses, even if you can’t diagnose them. Can be used consecutively with the bonus increasing by 1

Bonus to(related to medicine): Ponder, Intelligence

Requires: 4 Intelligence

Hide(1 energy) - Particularly clever at finding spots in which they’re difficult to see. Can be used consecutively

Bonus to: Sneak(2; gone once they move)

Requires: 4 Spirit

Interpret Dreams(6 energy) - Has the ability to find accurate meaning in dreams or prophecies sent by StarClan. Everything won’t be crystal clear, but they should at least give some clues. May also tell you that a dream is just ordinary or that a prophecy doesn’t currently apply. Can be done twice with 1 energy the second time

Requires: 6 Spirit

Launch(3 energy) - Allows a cat to fling an opponent away by thrusting their back paws out while wrestling or being pinned. The opponent will be thrown two body lengths away and be disoriented enough that he or she cannot perform any kind of attack. Can be used 4 times in a row, throwing the opponent an extra body length away each time, or used only twice with 2 energy the second time

Bonus to: Wrestle

Requires: 6 Strength

Leap(1 energy) - Tries to cover more distance(one extra body length) without worrying about being able to land cleanly(may result in injury). Can be used 4 times in a row, covering a max of four extra body lengths

Bonus to: Pounce

Requires: 2 Strength

Medicine Lore(1 energy) - Has a great deal of knowledge about injuries and illnesses, and can recognize what is ailing a sick or hurt cat, even if you don’t know how to treat the problem. Can be used consecutively with the bonus increasing by 1

Bonus to(involving diagnosing): Ponder, Intelligence

Requires: 4 Intelligence

Mighty Swat(4 energy) - Allows you to cause more damage with swat by 4 energy. Can be done twice with 2 energy the second time

Bonus to: Swat

Requires: 8 Strength

Pathfinder(3 energy) - Allows you to be aware of where you are in relation to other known sites, either distance, direction, or what’s nearby your current location

Bonus to: Focus, Listen, Ponder, See, Smell

Requires: 6 Intelligence

Pin(6 energy) - Allows one cat to immobilize their opponent by using the weight of your cat’s body to force the opponent to the ground. It lasts until the opponent wins wrestling or the cat who started it gets up/is forced off. Wrestling, launching, swatting, and biting are all that can be done in a pin. Can be done twice with 3 energy the second time

Requires: 6 Strength

Pummel(6 energy) - Allows you to make a swat that relies on brute force to hit rather than strategic placement of the blow. Can be done twice with 3 energy the second time

Bonus to: Swat

Requires: 8 Strength

Spring(3 energy) - Tries to stretch their paws as high as possible, often to bat at an object normally too high to reach. Can spring twice the height that they can normally Pounce. Can be used up to 3 times, reducing energy needed by 1 with each consecutive use

Bonus to: Pounce

Requires: 3 Strength

Stalk(2 energy)- Particularly clever at remaining undetected while they’re moving. Can pause momentarily, but loses bonus if comes to complete, extended halt. Can be used consecutively

Bonus to: Sneak(2)

Requires: 2 Spirit

Track(3 energy) - Trace the movements of a target. Can be used twice in a row(double bonus)

Bonus to: Listen, See, Smell.

Requires: 2 Intelligence

Twoleg Lore(1 energy)- Has a great deal of knowledge about the behavior of Twolegs and the dangers posed by them and their monsters

Bonus to(involving Twolegs, their nests, and Monsters): Ponder, Intelligence

Requires: 4 Intelligence

Yowl(1 energy) - Use vocal warnings to inform others nearby that they’re particularly upset or to send a warning to those in hearing range. Can be used 3 times in a row with the bonus increasing by one each time

Bonus to: Arch, Hiss

Requires: 1 Intelligence

#warriors #warrior cats #warrior cats roleplay #roleplay #discord #dnd #server #discord server #mechanics #afinity #skills #knacks #guide #boneclan #to be continued..

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