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ladylillianrose · 5 years ago

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Clarkeman Fanfiction Recommendation List

I decided to compile a nice easy access list for everyone of popular/highly rated Max Richman/Zoey Clarke fanfictions. They are arranged by type of work, and alphabetically by title!

Collections:

Fallout by Jade4813: After the embarrassing incident at Simon and Jessica’s engagement party, Zoey knows she needs to clear the air with Simon, but she keeps getting distracted by memories of That Song. Part 1 of Zoey’s Extraordinary Confessions Series. Rated General Audiences, Complete

Give Me One Good Reason by TheAuthor44: What if Zoey hadn't run out the door after being confronted with Max's heart-song in 1x11.Part 2 of The ByeByeBye Collection. Rated General Audiences, Complete

Give Me One Good Reason, Part 2 by TheAuthor44: After their fight in the alley, Zoey and Max still have a lot to express….Part 2 of The ByeByeBye Collection. Rated Mature, Complete

Repercussions by Jade4813: Sequel to Fallout (and episode 7 of the series). Zoey still has the ability to hear other people's "heartsongs" but now others can hear her feelings, too. Will Max finally learn how she feels about him? (Inspired by the episode 8 description.) Part 2 of Zoey’s Extraordinary Confessions Series. Rated General Audiences, Complete

Resolution by Jade4813: Zoey has finally figured out how she feels about Max, but when she tries to get up the never to tell him, Everything. Goes. Wrong. Will the two of them ever manage to get on the same page? Part 3 of Zoey’s Extraordinary Confessions Series. Rated General Audiences, Complete

Multi-Chapter, Complete:

Ad Nauseam (Or Not) by Gwritesforfun: 5 times Zoey and Max attempted to talk about their feelings and were interrupted. One time they weren't. Or, the evolution of a much-needed discussion. Rated Mature, Complete

Adventures in Babysitting by TheAuthor44: Max helps babysit baby Peter when Zoey is stuck at work. Ladies, tell your ovaries I said you're welcome. Rated General Audiences, Complete

The Lies We Tell Ourselves by Jade4813: Max would do absolutely anything for Zoey. Including posing as her fake boyfriend to give her father one last "big moment" to celebrate with her. Nothing could possibly go wrong. After all, it's only his heart that stands to be broken. Right? Takes place after "Zoey's Extraordinary Glitch." Rated Teen, Complete

The Long and Winding Road by TheAuthor44: Three months after her fathers' funeral Zoey gets assigned to go to a managerial conference for SPRQ Point in Orlando, Florida. Max offers to come along after he tells her he’s been meaning to head back east to go through things from his childhood home. While Max originally offers flying together – Zoey suggests they drive and make it a road trip! Max needs to figure out his next career move, Zoey needs an escape from her grief - It's perfect! Road trip shenanigans ensue as Max and Zoey’s love story takes some unexpected twists and turns. Rated Teen, Complete

The Marks That Life Left On Them by chosenandloved: This is a Clarkeman fic set about one month post-finale.Simon, Zoey, and Max all seek out therapy in their own ways and come to some startling realizations regarding life and love. Rated Teen, Complete

A marriage (and other mishaps) by Bookreader525: Zoey and Max accompany Joan and Leif on a business trip to Las Vegas. Their presentation goes well— so well, in fact, that they spend the rest of the night partying. Cue the next morning, when Zoey wakes up in a hotel room that is not hers with a ring on her finger that she doesn't recall wearing before. Rated Teen, Complete

Max’s Extraordinary Project by Gwritesforfun: Any successful project takes a well-executed plan. Max has a birthday surprise for Zoey, and he assembles a team to give her a gift. Rated Teen, Complete

Seasons of Love by Ladylillianrose: Max has always been included in the Clarke family holiday celebrations. A journey through the different holidays and celebrations they have, as their lives continue to change and grow. Rated Teen, Complete

Take A Chance On Me by Ladylillianrose: Max moved to the 6th floor, giving Zoey the space and time she needed to figure out her feelings. But now that she's ready to talk, what is she going to tell him? Rated Teen, Complete

The Wedding Date by Jade4813: Zoey agrees to be Max's Plus One at his brother's wedding. They're supposed to be just friends, but the dreams Zoey's been having about him lately make things complicated. Rated Explicit, Complete

When I Kiss You, SPRQS Fly by ElliHelm: Five times Zoey and Max kissed throughout their (totally just a) friendship. Plus one time where they finally acknowledged it was more than that. Rated Mature, Complete

When I Think About You I… by Ladylillianrose: Zoey performs Karaoke, giving Max a show he will never forget. (Established Relationship). Rated Explicit, Complete

You’ve Got SPRQS by Ladylillianrose: A new dating app has just launched for the SPRQ Watch, called SPRQS. Joan signs Zoey up for it in order to help her meet someone. Will Zoey find someone? Can you really fall in love through an app? Inspired by You've Got Mail. Rated Teen, Complete

Zoey’s Extraordinary Nephew by Ladylillianrose: Max stops by to meet Zoey's nephew, and a much-needed conversation is had. Rated Teen, Complete

Zoey’s Extraordinary Nightmare by aubreyrichman: An event causes Zoey to realize her worst fears. Rated Teen, Complete

Zoey’s Extraordinary Relationships by Gwritesforfun: “Unnecessarily complicated, exhausting for everybody, the opposite of good.” Zoey reflects on 5 complicated past relationships, and one that isn’t complicated at all. A 5+1 things. Rated Teen, Complete

Zoey’s Extraordinary Reunion by aubreyrichman: High School Reunions are synonymous with drama, stress, fear, and showing the people that attended school with you that you are different than you were when they knew you. When Max receives an invitation to his High School Reunion, he doesn't realize that the reunion itself could change EVERYTHING. Rated Teen, Complete

Zoey’s Extraordinary Secrets by aubreyrichman: What could have happened with Zoey if timing had been different? What if Zoey’s dad wasn’t so sick when she developed her powers? What if she had gotten them earlier? What if...? Rated Explicit, Complete

Multi-Chapter, In-Progress

Extraordinarily Star-Crossed by aubreyrichman & Ladylillianrose: “...and when one of them meets the other half, the actual half of himself....the pair are lost in an amazement of love and friendship and intimacy and one will not be out of the other's sight, as I may say, even for a moment...”-Plato, The Symposium. Rated Mature, In-Progress

Ghosted: An Extraordinary Haunting by aubreyrichman: When Max’s life hangs in the balance, who else does he turn to but his best friend? But does that mean that he will be heard? Rated Teen, In-Progress

It’s Not the Goodbye, It’s The Longing That Follows by Jade4813: Zoey told Max that she needed more time, but time, it seems, has just run out. After she realizes her feelings a little too late, can the two of them find their way back to each other? Rated General Audiences, In-Progress

Table for Two by ElliHelm: When Zoey's conscience (re: jealousy) rears its ugly head at a fateful encounter at the Golden Gate Grind, Operation: Get Max Off Of Her suddenly becomes a lot more complicated. Or, How To Go On A Totally Platonic Dinner Date With Your Best Friend When You Know They're In Love With You. An AU where Zoey goes to Hand-Picked with Max and how her life changes as a result. Rated Teen, In-Progress

The Times They Just Knew by bigcitydreamer98: Set after the finale, told through the POVs of Zoey's friends and family, those closest to Zoey recount the times they knew that Zoey and Max were falling for one another. From lingering glances to cheesy Dad jokes, slightly concerning outbursts of song to meeting the family Max never seems to talk about, Zoey and Max make it through it all - most importantly, together. Rated General Audiences, In-Progress

Win Some or Learn Some by Jade4813: Zoey has just discovered her new powers, but they develop an inconvenient glitch that makes her start to realize her feelings for him may not be what she's always believed. The only problem is, she has no idea if he feels the same way. Rated Explicit, In-Progress

Zoey’s Extraordinary Guide To Grief by atlas_outlast: Or; How To Grieve When You’ve Been Grieving For Years But Now Your Father Is Actually Dead. Rated Teen, In-Progress

One-Shots

Both Showing Hearts by TheAuthor44: AU 1x12 where Zoey reflects on all the events of the day ... and Max gets to finish. Rated General Audiences, Complete

Breaking Point by Jade4813: When they become temporary roommates during quarantine, how many times can Zoey and Max have sex while still pretending to themselves and to each other that it Doesn’t Mean Anything? Rated Explicit, Complete

do you think you will be good enough (to love others and to be loved) by flashlightinacave: Post season 1 episode 10, Zoey and Max finally have a real conversation and trade some needed apologies. Rated Teen, Complete

Hand-Picked Redux by TheAuthor44: What if Mo convinced Zoey to join Max for dinner at Hand-Picked? What if she wasn't so emotionally avoidant? What if Autumn hadn't been working at the Golden Gate Grind that day? Rated General Audiences, Complete

A Promise by TheAuthor44: My take on Max's goodbye to Mitch in 1x12. Max lets Mitch know exactly how he feels about his daughter - and makes him a promise. Not Rated, Complete

The Sound of Silence by Jade4813: Max had never had Zoey's power, but he'd never mourned its absence. Her voice, and the sound of her laugh, had been all the music he'd ever needed for over sixty years. Rated General Audiences, Complete

Tobin Ships It by TheAuthor44: In order to win the office bet of when Zoey and Max will get together, Tobin decides to take matters into his own hands. Rated General Audiences, Complete

Wild Things by innie: Her power has a soft spot for Max. Rated Mature, Complete

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iit-s-kitty · 5 years ago

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"My problems with Rise of Skywalker, because fuck being neutral this movie was a crime"

Written by a disappointed Star Wars fan that happens to ship Reylo, and who will most likely ends up rewriting this mess in her fanfiction

The ridiculous fast pace: seriously, this movie feels like the project you forgot to do on holidays and the due date is tomorrow, so you're just doing the "important plot points": The Palpatine plot? Check. The Rey's parents plot? Check.

The lack of closure for the character's storylines: throughout the sequels it was stablished storyline that allowed for the development of different characters. For example, Finn learning that escaping is NOT the way of opposing the First Order, Poe learning to be the leader the Resistance needs, Han coming back in order to face that what became of Ben's was equally his fault as well as Snoke's, and the most important ones being Rey and Ben's journey. Here? All forgotten. Suddenly we erased whatever happened in the last two movies and give everything for granted, because no one gives a fuck about what happened. Poe is the same as he was, Finn is still hung up on Rey and exhibits no personality of it, Rey has no sequels of what happened in Ach-To at the cave or in the Throne Room with Kylo, and speaking of which...

WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED WITH KYLO? We cut the last movie on the biggest cliffhanger for this character: he had killed his master in order to gain more power (ironically surpassing Darth Vader... Only that Kylo did it in order to protect Rey, something he wasn't looking for and ended up wanting her at his side), became the Supreme Leader and witnessed the almost complete wipeout of the Resistance as well as Luke's demise. Yet to him it meant nothing because the only person that managed to connect with him decided to stick to her own path and giving an open door to the redemption arc. The logical step was having him as this ultimate boss they all had to defeat, The Supreme Leader... That would progressively become more and more disenchanted with it. Snoke is gone, his abuser is finally gone but what can he do about it? He still has all this rage, all this pain. Think of Zuko when he finally "regained" his honor by supposedly killing the Avatar, yet he felt it wasn't worth anything because he had betrayed the only person that cared for him, in Kylo's case it would be the "death" of Leia, the lack of closure on his part with Luke, Han's death and of course, Rey turning his back on him. What does RoS do? NOTHING. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. Sure, Kylo does redeem himself but the way of doing so...

What the hell with Kylo's redemption? Sure, it happened but the execution was awful. If Kylo was to be redeemed it needed to be EARNED. I'll take again Zuko's example: Zuko not only faced remorse that he was lying to the face of everyone and that Azula could rat him out, it all felt empty because all these people had never cared for him, unlike Iroh did— and now Iroh was imprisoned, starving and humiliated in the deepest cell of the Fire Nation because of him. Sure, he regained his honor, but it comes to a point where he himself said it: "I'M MAD AT MYSELF, because I can't tell the difference between right and wrong anymore". Then, he learns of what his grandfather Sozin did to the Avatar, his best friend, and he knows what to do: the only way to truly regain his honor is to right what his family did wrong and help Aang bring balance. He tells Ozai (which funny enough is voiced by Mark himself) a beautiful "The reason you suck" speech and goes out of the palace to help the Gaang and... They don't want him there. They're ready to kill him on the spot because of all Zuko made him went through and Zuko does NOTHING to stop them. He fully accepts the guilt of what he did and shows with actions that he truly means to redeem himself and train Aang. And even then he faces suspicion and prejudice by the whole Gaang at first. Then, on the Sozin's Comet he helps them by defeating Azula with Katara and helping in the search for Aang, and becomes Fire Lord by the end of the series, intending to start a new Era of peace with Aang's help.

What I'm trying to say here is that, if they were trying to redeem Kylo, fine, do it! I know that the fans of the character (which aren't few) and fans of ships like Reylo were rooting for a redemption of Kylo. But if that route was the one to be taken, then Kylo had to, as we say here in my country, "go through a fuck ton of work to do so". He would first need to doubt whether this was the true path for him (something he was already doing), see the true extent of what the First Order was doing, throw a few punches with him and Leia's relationship as well as his relationship with Rey. They needed to work on his reasons to switch to the Light side of the Force in order to do the redemption and yes, we could say they did it with the Reylo, which I'm a fan of. But it was rushed, sloppy, it wasn't earned ffs.

Leia, Han, Luke, and the whole treatment of the original trio in this shtick: I know, I know that Carrie Fisher is dead and everytime I remember it, I kid you not, I cry because she was a wonderful woman that showed me that despite my mental illness I could still do something worthwile with my life, that I could take the pain to do something beautiful with it. And Leia is a wonderful example of a female character. I know that because of Carrie's death they couldn't do a lot with the character— but that is not an excuse then they put a woman on CGI with her face in order to give "closure" to her character, and I'm sorry but if that was closure for Leia then I'm princess Diana. Leia was Kylo's mother, if someone was rooting for Ben to come back then it was her (as well as Rey, but that's something I'll discuss later) and if someone deserved to have a final moment with him, to see him come back, IT WAS HER. Let me explain, as I said before, even the members of the original trio had a journey of their own here: Han's was trying to reach out for a son he didn't always treat right (if not that he outright feared him) and take responsibility as a father; Luke's was coming to terms with what he did, come out of his depression and acknowledge that Ben can indeed come back as well as to take responsibility for his mistakes. Leia's, given her role as a mother figure throughout this trilogy as well as a leader for the rebellion, was learning to accept the help of a new generation and to guide them, as well as trying to reach for her son in order to make him see the true path. If Kylo is Zuko, then Leia is Iroh here (someone should make a fanart of Kylo apologizing to Leia like Zuko did with Iroh btw). But NOPE, her only purpose is to die so that REY has to have compassion for Ben and then let HAN, OF ALL PEOPLE, reach out for Ben. The whole last movies were building for a moment with Kylo and Leia, to have either a confrontation or a reunion and even if they had the means to do so despite Carrie's death, they gave us nothing. Zero. Nada. Leia died being a prop to Rey and not even her arch with the Resistance was closed. What a rip-off!

Why the hell do we have to bring the Emperor back? No, really, fans of Star Wars— why do we have to bring Sheev Palpatine back and WHY did it have to be the way it was handled? You want to him back? Okay, do so, BUT NOT IN A WAY THAT UNDERMINES ANAKIN'S STORY. By bringing Palpatine in a "he was always alive" fashion, not only do we open the door to a fuck ton of plot-holes, but we shit on the entire Original Trilogy and the journey of Anakin Skywalker. He died for nothing, yes, he saved his son— but the Galaxy was still on the clutches of this monster, HIS FAMILY WAS STILL IN DANGER BECAUSE OF HIM. Heck, as much as I think the EU was a mess with overated or downright badly written characters (cofcofMaraJadecofcof) the whole "The Emperor has a clone as a failsafe and thus come back" was a better way to bring him back. You wanted to make Rey the relative of someone important? Make her the Emperor's clone, the future vessel a le Sasuke and Orochimaru— BUT DON'T GIVE ME THIS SHIT.

Also, if Luke knew so well where the Emperor was hidden that he even made a MAP to him, why didn't he grab Leia (who's now an even better Jedi than he was, apparently), went to Exegol and beated the shit out of his old butt? IT WOULD'VE SURELY BEEN MORE BADASS THAN THIS.

Rey is now a damn Mary Sue: coming back to the theater with my friends, we joked that Rey is the maid of your grandfather that ends up being the one is given everything after your grandpa's death.

The last movie, Rey was given the harsh truth as well as us: not only were her parents pieces of shit that never cared about her, thus not coming back— but us, as viewers, were given the truth that there was no mystical lineage of heroes to explain her powers, that she was just... A nobody. She was the underdog, the Foil to Kylo's ascendancy of heroes and villains and all around famous people. Rey had always dreamed that her blood family would come back, that someone else would come and sweep her away from her personal hell— only to learn, from someone like Kylo, that no one was going to do so except for her. And it was a fucking amazing character arc!

But reddit theorist don't care about any of that. SHE CAN'T BE THAT POWERFULL UNLESS SHE IS SOMEONE'S DAUGHTER! And thus, we shit on the last two movies, her character and her development in order of pleasing people that couldn't stand her being the Jedi of the trilogy in first place.

Not only are her parents now tragic heroes that tried to save her (then why LEAVE HER WITH SOMEONE LIKE THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE? 👀), but the worst part is that they try to give us a "the family you make is more important than the one that birthed you" by her taking on the Skywalker name. Despite having her entire relationship with Ben going back to nothing on this movie and only kissing him at the end.

AND EVEN IF SHE TOOK ON HIS NAME, IT WOULD'VE BEEN "REY SOLO". ARE THEY EVEN LOOKING AT WHAT THEY'RE WRITING?

Rey deserved better than to be the fullfilment of dudebro's complaints and reddit theories.

This movie pulls ALL the punches: say whatever you want about The Last Jedi, but that movie had BALLS unlike Rise of Skywalker. C3PO can lose his memories in order to help the Resistance? DON'T WORRY, HE HAS A BACK UP. Chewie might be dead because of Rey, and thus opening the door for interesting character development as well as an emotional moment for us all? FUCK THAT NOISE, HE WAS ON ANOTHER SHIP. And now, Rey is a Palpatine, Ben dies because WHY THE FUCK NOT, and thus we ensure a narrative so paint by the numbers that would leave everyone happy, right?

The whole fucking Sequel Trilogy was about making a new path, taking risks and opening a new age— even if that meant to let go of the past (heck, it is said in TLJ). See it for yourself: TFA has a Stormtrooper deflecting, the death of HAN SOLO, and a woman who is a nobody being more powerful than the grandson of Anakin Skywalker; TLJ almost kills Leia, they tell us that Luke is responsible for Ben going to the Dark Side of the Force because of his paranoia, the Rebellion is left in shambles, Rey learns that her parents were alcoholics and are dead, and Luke sacrifices himself.

"But Leia died—" Leia died because Carrie is dead, Karen. Otherwise I bet you that she would've lived like Lando did.

We're so feminist and woke!... Or are we?: let's see: Rose Tico, because bigoted morons are a big sector of this fandom sadly, almost doesn't appear in this movie. In fact, she doesn't even talk to Finn despite the fact that the last movie build up to them being love interest.

They introduce us to the character of Zorrie, who appears like an old flame of Poe but doesn't stop her to being a person that would put herself above others— even if it means to throw them under the bus. That would make for an interesting character! But nope, she is only there to be an exposition bot for Poe and making him look good.

They introduce us to Jannah, a woc that like Finn, used to be a Stormtrooper and has fled the First Order and went into hiding, alongside people like her because of the sheer fear they have of being found. That would make for a kick ass plot were they regain their fight spi— but no, she's only there to make Finn look special.

This movie (and like many Disney live actions) appears to be "woke" in order to ensure a better box office, but that is— they look the part but don't exactly play the part. They only use this movements in order to further their own sales— they don't care about representation because, with what they did to Rose, they show you that the moment representation stops selling tickets they'll throw it out of the window.

If you agree and have more to say.

#anti tros #Anti ros #anti the rise of skywalker #anti rise of skywalker #anti rey skywalker #anti rey palpatine #Star wars #rey of jakku #reylo #Ben solo #kylo ren #leia organa #This movie was a mess and i can't keep quiet anymore #Anti star wars fandom

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princecharmingtobe · 3 years ago

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idk if any of y’all have been keeping up with my D&D game stuff, buuuuut Jack and Rowen finally hooked up!

It was not romantic, and is kind of actually, but we still celebrated cause it’s been almost a year coming at this point lol

So, in this session we went to confront an evil artificer, Professor Wiltmore who had shown an interest in Jack and wanted him to join him at his lab. Jack, also being an artificer, didn’t trust him for a second and with good reason: Dude had been lobotomizing people and turning them into obedient eldritch knights to sell as soldiers to both sides of the war, with the intention of flipping things at the last minute and taking over the country for himself.

Everything went all kinds of wrong. We never came up with a solid plan, just figured we’d get into the lab, play nice for a bit until we could figure out what was going on and how to stop it, and at some point try to kill Wiltmore. However as we were being led in Terra and Rowen noticed they were being followed by an awful lot of guards, which Rowen used sign language to alert Jack to as he is forever oblivious to his surroundings. Believing Wiltmore knew what was up and that we’d lost any element of surprise, as soon as we got to the mysterious locked door Terra dropped a smoke bomb, instructed Roran to beak down the door, and then threw a pipe bomb Jack had helped her make at Wiltmore who was inside.

Wiltmore was VERY upset with Jack for “betraying” him, shouting “I could’ve given you the world!” and then trying to murder him specifically. He also summoned forth a behir which due to some misunderstandings of the battlefield ended up being the main battle. It ate Terra, and killed Roran. Realizing we were going to win though, Wiltmore fled while his beast kept us busy. Jack got the killing blow, blasting the top of the creature off thus allowing Terra to crawl her way out, then when we were out of initiative Jack flew to Roran and cast Revivify.

Things got weird then. We’d been informed that resurrection would work a little differently in this campaign, and we figured it was just a homebrew rule to make it more difficult but the DM told Rowen that as he’d been around a while and seen some resurrections before, this was unusual, so we’re like uh, wat. We found ourselves in the... etheral? astral? some other plane? And we saw Roran, unconscious, being pulled into this creepy black sludge. Jack flew to him in a panic and started desperately trying to scrape the sludge off him. The way the ritual worked is three of us could try to say or do something to try to give him advantage as he rerolled his death saves. Jack, while trying to get the sludge off him, was like “No no no, come on, if you die before seeing your kid your wife is gonna kill me!” Terra tied a rope around him and tried to pull him out of the sludge. And Rowen actually used intimidate to tell him “If you die here I’ll make sure your wife and kid join you!” (oh Rowen...) That one resulted in a nat20 death save. We found ourselves suddenly back in the lab, Roran’s eyes shot open glowing white, and he sat up and punched Rowen clear across the room. They made up later when Rowen assured him he was just saying what he had to.

The party healed up a bit, restored and freed the people they were able to, and looked outside to find that when Wiltmore fled he took with him the power source for the city, which included the power for the force field that separated the outer and inner city, so now there was almost a full on physical class war about to happen. It appeared that the crooked leader of the city had fled with him. The party determined that the heart of the behir we’d slain could be used as a new power source, and after Rowen removed it from the beast Jack was able to install it in the machine and now only did the power come back, but twofold, with the force field now covering the entire city, rather than separating the outer and inner cities.

The party then traveled to the city hall to calm the people, explain the situation, and inform them that new, better leadership was coming. Got a good persuasion and a tentative peace was restored. The party then returned to the Fantasy Holiday Inn, and had some drinks because boy did we need them. Even Jack, who normally doesn’t drink. For some context to what’s coming next: Jack had been in a bad place mentally and emotionally this whole session. He was terrified of Wiltmore, and for good reason. With Wiltmore having escaped he is now terrified of him coming back for revenge, and this time he’ll be the one with the element of surprise on his side. On top of that the battle itself had freaked him out, especially Roran dying and whatever it is we saw when bringing him back. Finally to top it all off, Roran offered Jack some “moon water”, a type of magical alcohol that causes one to briefly relive happy memories. We think the DM thought that sort of thing would cheer people up? But uh, all it really did was remind Jack of everything he’s lost, so he ended up crying at the bar and then going up to his and Rowen’s room early.

After another hour or two Rowen also returned to the room and settled into his dark corner for the night, but before he could enter his trance Jack got up, climbed onto his lap, and kissed him. Fade to black.

To explain: Jack is deathly allergic to emotional vulnerability. After everything that happened that day topped off by the moon water bringing all his loss to the surface, what he really needed was just to be held. But he can’t ask for that or he’ll die or something lol So instead he seeks out what to him is the next best thing that he can reason to not be emotional: Sex. Cause he’s a guy, and guys always want sex without having emotions involved, right?? That’s how he justifies it to himself. And Rowen is, well... the only friend he’s ever really had. Up until now his only close relationships have been parents and vaguely parental figures. So of course he’s the one he seeks out for comfort.

And idk what Rowen thought of the whole thing. He enjoyed it, went along with it, and apparently wants to do it again some time. Though when we went to the next day the DM asked how we were coming down to breakfast, if we were holding hands or anything and we were like “Oh fuck no, we are not acknowledging that anything happened”

#Jack the Artificer

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bangtanblurbs · 4 years ago

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abyss

song: abyss by jin

first experience: as a relatively new song, i remember clearly abyss’ drop. 12/2/2020 - several months into whatever quarantine had come to mean by that point, thanksgiving had just past and christmas was coming up in a matter of weeks. those few weeks between the holidays often pass by in a blur for me. holidays are hard. they’re not the romantic times they always were when i was a child. once again i’d been sitting at home in my tiny studio apartment, freezing, trying to crank through work and school obligations. i can assure you my headspace was less than great, between the cold, the holiday season, the deadlines that had piled up... abyss dropping was the perfect medicine for how i was feeling.

feelings: when i listen to abyss i can’t help but feel emotional. of course. naturally the accompanying note that came with abyss was heartbreaking enough. but at the same time, the song feels like home. it feels like walking into my apartment after a long day and slipping into my favorite hoodie that desperately needs to be thrown into the wash. the familiar feeling brings about warmth despite the sobering reality that i’m still here, by myself, slipping into my ratty clothing and climbing into bed to disassociate from the self-hatred, stress, obligation, and grief i carry daily. the reality is, listening to abyss is like listening to my inner voice. i’m not saying i understand jin, or any of the shit he’s obviously gone through and dealt with in his very colorful life, but i feel close to him whenever i put the song on. i feel like as i grow older - i grow into myself - i grow into the pain i’ve harbored for years now. while i sometimes feel like i’m drowning in the abyss, at least i have the comfort that my feelings aren’t as alien as they seem. especially for someone who has been fortunate in life in many ways - this song shows me that i’m still *allowed* to hurt. i’m still allowed to carry my pain and feel it flow through me.

i must also say, that my heart broke many times know that jin feels the emotions that abyss conveys. the self-doubt, the anxiety... how we all must wish we could wash it away. i only hope with all of my heart that he’s been given time, space, and resources to process his emotions fully. i can’t imagine carrying what he’s carrying and having the schedule he has. bless.

personal connection: as alluded to, i’m not the most stable person. i can post happy photos online, i can breathe my idealism into others, i can love with the full capacity of my heart - but i have plenty of demons. i’m not sure where they came from, i noticed them around the time i became a teenager - that sinking feeling that all aspects of my existence are ugly, undesirable, annoying. these demons have never gone away. no matter how much i strive for my dreams, no matter what i accomplish, the amount of solitude that exists in my life allows for the cracks in my heart to rip open forcefully.

it’s this very thinking that limits me. i don’t believe in myself. i don’t really believe in anything if i’m being honest. everything feels dark. there’s ups and downs. much how jin describes in the song - i desperately want to be a part of a more vibrant existence. i deeply want to connect with others, but the anxiety, the self doubt, the hatred i harbor, they’re paralyzing. simple tasks - texting a friend to make plans, following through with plans, speaking in a group setting, advocating for myself, they’re all things i’d rather shut the door on. vulnerability? i can’t open myself up for any more pain. in my mind, i’d rather retreat to the darkness, convincing myself i’m not worthy of taking another’s time, space, efforts. and i get overwhelmed, the feelings that jin is describing perfectly - having someone take an interest in me - having someone show me love... it feels false, it takes my breath away, only makes me question more. it makes me wonder how long i’ll indulge them before i push them away and move to my own abyss.

in abyss jin isn’t even talking about another person. he’s speaking to himself. there’s not a romantic or even friendship he’s speaking of in the song. it’s more about like - is it okay for me to feel happy or hopeful? am i someone who should be allowed to meet happiness? this is something i relate to even more profoundly than the previously mentioned worries over letting new people into my life. ever since i went off to university from my kinda shitty hometown i wondered... is this life something i’m allowed to have for myself? am i worthy of it? did i do anything to deserve the place i’m at? i feel often like my work, my thoughts, my actions -- they’re not enough to place me in some of the places i’ve been lucky enough to have a seat. these doubts can cripple me with inaction and keep me chained to the present, or at the very least held back from progress and moving forward. these feelings were exactly what i was going through in december. do i deserve to be pursuing my phd? am i worthy? i haven’t accomplished near what my peers have, and i probably never will... i’m not as passionate as the others i pass by in the hallways, those i share a floor with at meetings... i’m a shell compared to them. should i retreat to my abyss rather than continue to occupy space where i don’t feel i’m allowed to be? am i allowed to celebrate and feel happiness when i’m not really doing as well as i could be?

obviously this sounds like whining, it sounds pathetic. and perhaps to someone it is, but it’s the reality of my mind. it’s something i bear and it’s something i’m finally okay sharing with others. i don’t know how to overcome these emotions i harbor - but that feeling of feeling most comfortable in my abyss, in the dark, in the little world i’ve created in my lonely haven... that’s my reality. that’s the feeling that i’ve connected to when i listen to abyss. it’s those moments when you look our your window, at your phone, and you see the outside world moving rapidly in the sunlight, and you can’t help but feel you don’t deserve to be a part of it... you can’t help but know that your true place is in the abyss. the pleasure i receive from escaping reality is unexplainable. and sometimes, it’s pleasure in the fact that i’m punishing myself, putting myself in the dark and ugly place i think i truly belong. that abyss - it’s my haven. it’s my sanctuary.

song breakdown:

musically: abyss is beautifully understated musically, but not in a way that makes it a stripped vocal song... but instead in a way that highlights the emotion laden in jin’s voice. the piano backing picks up with the song and brings in some effects along the way to highlight the emotional pauses between the heavy lyrics. its the perfect ballad. truly. the incorporation of a steady beat track at the second verse also ads to the emotions of feeling like something is dragging, the monotony of these emotions as one carries through each day.

the dramatic pauses that lead into the verses and highlight the pure emotion carried in jin’s tone also bring emphasis to the powerful refrain in the chorus - it’s almost reminiscent of personal realizations, personal *epiphanies* one might say. that moment where you draw in a big breath and gulp it down before confronting your demons. while the track keeps it’s steady pace, it does what it should for this piece - highlights the beauty of jin’s voice, and carries the weight of the emotions in the lyrics.

vocally: honestly, just wow. jin’s voice, is absolutely stunning in this song. completely breathtaking in the best kind of way. i say this with nothing but complete respect - jin’s vocals have done nothing but improve and grow in strength over time to the complete crisp perfection they are today. the amount of emotion he carries in his tone is also perfect to deliver such a profound ballad as abyss. i hope he knows that we can feel every ounce of truth and healing he put into the song.

we all know jin is the high note king, but he honestly ops for more of a storytelling vibe in this song, keeping within his lower register throughout the verses. it really isn’t until we are mid-chorus that we get the breathtaking high note during the line “ 잠기고 싶어 가보고 싶어.” this is perhaps the most profound lyric of the chorus as well, since it’s the moment in which jin expresses a desire. most of the lyrics up to that point explain a state of being, his emotions, but at this point - he is almost calling out his desire. his painful desire. to stay lost within in his abyss. it’s painful and stunningly beautiful at the same time.

the genius of the entire song was jin delivering abyss in a way that we don’t always hear him sing in BTS songs. the buttery smoothness of his voice is on full display, with no need to stay in his high register for long we can really hear the weight in his tone, the pleading in his voice, the sincerity. it’s sobering, and it’s powerful. and i must say, i can’t wait to get more songs like this from jin in the future. i hope he continues to share his heart, his voice, and his talent with us.

lyrically: oh man. this one is a deep cut. you can really feel jin’s voice throughout the lyrics of abyss. the accompanying note that he released with the song brings a lot of context and understanding to the lyrics. in the note jin explains feeling inadequate and insecure in light of the amazing accomplishments that BTS had made over the years, specifically highlighting the #1 on Billboard Hot 100. he explains that he felt like his passion and talents were lacking compared to others in music, and felt undeserving of the love, joy, and recognition he received. his emotions seem to be similar to those of imposter syndrome, feeling like he doesn’t belong in a space he inhabits and actually receives accolades for existing within. what’s more telling is in this note jin expresses his apprehension to share these sadder emotions he harbors. this song is so incredibly raw for being a place in which jin finally found a space in which to express his feelings, let them run freely and beautifully without the concern that he needed to stay strong for ARMY.

to jump right into a closer analysis of the lyrics - the song begins with a story like vibe. the first lyric “i hold my breath as i walk into my sea” brings about the image of the speaker (i apologize in advance if i alternate between speaker and jin) beginning their descent into deeper waters of the ocean. the speaker is bracing for this though, as they are the one propelling it forward with enough pacing to prepare and hold their breath. to me, this is alluding to jin knowing that he’s falling into a darker space in his mind, consciously allowing himself to slip into that space. he then moves into describing his state “i face myself who is crying beautifully and sorrowfully.” jin is describing that he’s taking account of his state, speaking to himself and seeing the distraught state that exists within his mind -- seeping into his outer appearance.

the pre-chorus moves into a different vibe, jin addresses the duality in himself. he recognizes both the parts of himself that are strong - that can shoulder and carry the parts of him that are deeply broken and sad. “myself in that darkness / i’d like to go find him and tell him” this is jin speaking with clarity to his broken self, his rationality coming through to speak to the parts of him that are insecure and hurting. “that i’d like to know more about you today, yeah” perhaps this is jin’s way of saying that he wishes he understood himself better, that he wishes he could more confidently identify the emotions he was feeling and process them fully. the pre-chorus in my mind is jin using some clarity to check in with himself and take inventory of his state when he’s in his darkest moments.

the chorus picks up and delivers a few devastatingly beautiful and sobering lines. “still, i remain with myself / with my voice unable to come out, i just circle around him.” this is where we see the ultimate conclusion of the engagement in the pre-chorus... jin’s insecurity and pain keeps his strength from winning out. the duality in his being still exists, but in this moment it’s the pain, the insecurity, the feelings of inadequacy that have won out. “that dark place, / i’d like to be submerged in it, i’d like to go to it / i’ll be there” jin then places us back into the story he started in the beginning of the song - he’s submerged in the abyss, the darkest and deepest point of the ocean. he speaks to taking the time to really feel the emotions that he is harboring, causing him pain. while this could be a conscious decision he is making to better understand and process his emotions it’s also likely that this desire is rooted in self-loathing, a desire to self-punish for his perceived shortcomings. the pleasure that sometimes one can gain from fully feeling pain that they believe they deserve. the line about being submerged also brings about the image of an anchor in my mind - like these emotions are weighing jin down. while anchors may sink slowly (like slowly taking a breath and walking into the sea) they’re hard to pull back up -- they want to stay seated to the ground, where they belong to do their job. perhaps jin is in some ways alluding to this. either way, the chorus is about a desire to remain in the dark place, where it feels safe, where he feels he deserves to be. the final line is “today as well, i circle around you again.” which brings us back to the pre-chorus dialogue between jin’s duality - the part of him that may rationally understand that he deserves love, that he works hard, that he is worthy... but yet this part can’t seem to gain control over the darker feelings within him... so there’s this idling, this perpetual circle of inaction.

moving into the second verse this interaction occurring within jin’s inner being continues. “the closer i get to you, the more breathless i become and the father away you feel” while this line is a bit more difficult for me to completely understand what i think he is speaking to is that as he begins to think he understands his emotions, when he thinks he might be regaining his confidence he realizes he is only scratching the surface. he realizes that there’s more to his darker emotions than he’d initially thought. perhaps he thought he was just having a bad day or feeling in funk, but then he realizes that there’s a piece of him that he doesn’t quite understand and perhaps isn’t ready to understand as the word “breathless” invokes a feeling of overwhelm. the second and closing line of the verse is “wouldn’t it be that you went deeper into the sea, yeah” invoking that these darker emotions only continue to grow, evolve, and perhaps overwhelm. he feels like he can’t quite pull himself out of the place he’s in, no matter what he tries.

the pre-chrous as analyzed above then repeats, although the meaning is somewhat different when following the second verse. this is because the nature of the second verse is more hopeless in nature, therefore while jin would like to be able to regain some control over these darker feelings -- he’s just expressed that as he tries he finds it more overwhelming and difficult. finds himself moving further into the dark emotions.

the final chorus is different that the previous - the lyrics change and while they continue a deeply sorrowful theme, they also bring about some hope. the first line, “still, i remain with you” is telling. jin is reminding himself that even if he feels consumed by these emotions, the other components of him still exist. he isn’t just the darker feelings that have taken precedence. he can have his confidence when he’s ready, he can maintain his duality. all aspects of jin, even if he’s feeling broken. “with my voice unable to come out, i just circle around him.” even if he feels he can’t gain control of these emotions, he can be patient with himself, he can know that there’s the potential that he can overcome, but also he knows that it’s okay in this moment to just feel. “that dark place / i’d like to be submerged in it, i’d like to go to it” this line is re-emphasizing jin’s desire to stay in the place where he feels comfortable, where he can feel his darker emotions, where he things he truly deserves to be. “today as well, like this, i close my eyes to get to you.” this is the final line of the song and it delivers a sense of comfort. no matter what, jin knows that he can be at peace - he may have these darker emotions, but he can close his eyes, he can rest and carry all aspects of his emotional state. the dark, the light, the highs and the lows. he can take his time in the abyss when he needs to.

tl;dr? abyss is one of those songs that anyone who has struggled with self-doubt, dabbled or dipped fully into self-hatred can identify with. many people i’m sure have their own abyss. their own place in their mind where they’d like to lock themselves in - a prison of their own design that in one way might be one’s punishment for their perceived shortcomings, but also can be a paradise when a beautiful being seemingly undeserved reality feels like too much to bear. jin’s artistry both in terms of lyrics and vocals are on full display in the song - showing his amazing range and delivering a piece full of emotional tones. abyss is a stunning piece of the man’s mind and heart that i am extremely grateful to be able to experience.

#bts #seokjin #jin #bangtan #Lyrics #analysis #abyss #abyss jin #army

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writeyouin · 5 years ago

Note

For the Halloween requests, can I please have TFA Optimus experiencing a Halloween night with human s/o? Like they make his costume together and they have a nice Halloween party at the base with the team?

Optimus Prime (TFA) X Reader – Painting Faces

A/N – If Phillip Pullman can leave me on a cliff-hanger IRL with The Secret Commonwealth then I can leave you guys on one. That is the true power of Halloween, mwa ha ha.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

You clambered on top of Optimus’ chassis, glad he was cooperating by laying down. You had already painted over his usual red and blue colour with an orange undercoat which would come off in the wash racks after Halloween. Now, you sat painting a giant black bat which would eventually be accompanied by a jack-o-lantern and a trio of ghosts.

As you painted, you waited for Optimus’ usual questions about your odd human traditions, or even some of his regular enthusiasm for trying something new. Instead, his lips remained firmly pressed together, revealing nothing of his thoughts. It didn’t take a mind reader to guess what was bothering him. You could tell he was uncomfortable by the ridged way he held himself, the way his servos were clenched at his side, and most of all his silence; if you didn’t know any better, you would guess he was a statue.

Naturally, you didn’t blame him for being so out of character. He had been the same way last Halloween; apparently the holiday reminded him of Elita-1 and her transformation into Blackarachnia.

You paused, the tip of the brush a few inches from him. “I can stop if you want me to,” You said solemnly.

Optimus snapped up, accidentally throwing you from his chassis into his lap. You stood up bemusedly, removing the brush from your arm which had been subsequently painted black.

Optimus cringed, “Sorry (Y/N). I can lay back down if you need me to.”

You shook your head, jumping to the floor where you put the brush into a bucket of water, cleaning it of its temporary colour. “You don’t have to do this Optimus. Me and the others… We know this isn’t your favourite night.”

Optimus looked to his left, unable to face your astute gaze. You could so easily sense his discomfort; he wondered what else you could sense in him. Was it possible you also knew how much he loved you, but weren’t letting on? He wouldn’t be surprised if you did, but he prayed that you didn’t.

“Why are we doing this?” He asked, secretly referring to the way the two of you constantly danced around a relationship that couldn’t happen.

If you caught on to his subliminal message you didn’t say so, instead opting to explain the Halloween party. “Sari’s father is missing, she’s lost just about everything normal in her life, and she’s being raised by five Cybertronians and me. She deserves to at least have the enjoyment of a proper Halloween; every kid should get that. All the same…” You paused in thought, “You shouldn’t do this if it’s too much for you.”

Optimus blushed and felt his cooling fans start up at your consideration. He coughed to cover the sound and tried to shut them off in case you figured out what the sound meant. It wasn’t fair; how could he be expected to stay calm when you were always putting him before yourself?

“I uh-” Optimus cleared his vocaliser, then lay back down. “We should finish this before the others get back. The paint will need time to dry.”

Although you would rather see Optimus safe from the nightmares of his processor, you didn’t argue and instead retrieved your paintbrush to finish Optimus’ costume. Once again Optimus fell silent and stiff, though this time it was your proximity to blame instead of his guilt and insecurity.

“Okay,” Sari said amusedly. “One more time. You throw your arms above your head, make claws, then go left and then right. Got it, Bulkhead?”

Bulkhead looked at his servos, sure the three digits that formed them already counted as claws, “Uh… I think so.”

Bumblebee threw up his arms impatiently, “UGH, WHAT IS SO HARD FOR YOU? It’s just dancing.”

Bulkhead cringed, “Hey! You know this stuff isn’t easy for me.”

While the pair squabbled, Prowl knelt down to your level, “(Y/N), are you sure this dance is absolutely necessary? Sari tells me it is a cultural dance and an honour for an outsider to be invited to participate.”

“The Thriller?” You asked, barely withholding a snicker. “Yeah, it’s a… It’s kind of like those documentaries with the different tribes in Africa; a very important dance here.”

“I see. There is still one thing I don’t understand however. If this dance holds so much importance to your people, how come we did not partake last year?”

“Ah,” You nodded sagely, buying time to come up with a plausible lie. “Well, Sari showed you another tradition, trick or treating, then you were attacked. After all that excitement, we didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

Prowl’s optics widened in understanding, “Of course, that makes sense.”

“Okay!” Sari exclaimed. “Are we ready to try again?”

Each of the bots took their respective place, except for Ratchet who watched disdainfully from across the room, thinking about the antics of younger bots; the closest Ratchet got to joining in was to restart the song whenever Sari indicated he should.

With Bulkhead and Bumblebee on either side of Sari, you and Prowl in front of the trio, and Optimus in the back, Ratchet restarted the song. Throughout the dance you laughed joyously, showing the moves to Prowl who learned quickly and efficiently. Optimus’ optics never left your small form, completely enchanted with the way you moved, even though it wasn’t particularly graceful; he hated any second when his view was blocked by either Bumblebee or Bulkhead.

Ratchet watched Optimus disapprovingly. To him, Optimus should have been trying harder to hide his feelings for you. It was lucky Optimus was at the back of the group where nobody else could see that he wasn’t dancing. Heaving a heavy sigh, Ratchet opted to wait for a moment when he could get Optimus alone to have a serious discussion with him. Such a time came when Sari was explaining the concept of apple bobbing or in the bots’ case, bobbing for a rounded metal that wasn’t even remotely edible to them.

You watched fondly, waiting for the moment Sari would go and her Bumblebee face-paint would float on the water’s surface, having been stripped from her face. Sari stepped up to the wooden tub, ready for her turn, and you grinned.

“Watch this Optimus-” You stopped upon realising that the now orange and black bot was nowhere to be found. You glanced around, spotting him and Ratchet heading outside of the base. Despite feeling that it was wrong to follow the pair, you couldn’t help being worried that whatever they were about to discuss might concern Sari or perhaps Optimus’ phobia of Halloween; with that in mind, you followed the pair.

While you intended to confront the pair, who had gone around the side of the building, you stopped yourself upon hearing Ratchet speak your name. Pressing yourself against the corner of the building, you listened.

“You can’t keep doing this Prime,” Ratchet lectured. “(Y/N) is a human, it can’t work. It will only end in spark-ache for both of you.”

“I know,” Optimus said resignedly. “But what am I supposed to do? (S)he’s everywhere Ratchet, and even when (s)he’s not, I’m still thinking of-” He sighed loudly, “Ratchet, I think… Whenever I think about (Y/N)- I- I think I’m in love.”

You covered your mouth before any sound could escape, as you sagged against the wall, glad for the darkness that hid you from view. While you had always had your suspicions that Optimus might care for you romantically, you had always brushed them off as cruel tricks your mind played when you longed for something more with him.

Ratchet grabbed Optimus’ shoulder plate roughly, “Now you listen to me! You better think about what’s best for (Y/N) over what you want. You hear me? Forget any ideas of love and let (Y/N) live the life (s)he was meant to lead, with other humans.”

Not wanting to hear whether Optimus would fight for you or not, you decided to make yourself known. Straightening up, you plastered a smile on your face and rounded the corner, trying to sound casual when you said, “Here you two are! I was looking all over for you.”

“(Y/N)!” Optimus blurted, afraid you had heard his confession.

You pretended not to notice how startled the pair were, though you could feel the way Ratchet’s optics intensely followed your movements. “Sari asked if you two were going to take a turn metal bobbing, so I came looking for you. What are you even doing out here?”

Ratchet shot a warning glance at Optimus, though he needn’t have; the younger bot was practically sagging under the weight of his unheard declaration of love.

“Nothing much,” Ratchet shrugged. “I was just looking at the night sky, thinking of home. Optimus came to join me. I didn’t think these young bots cared anymore.”

You looked up at the stars as if contemplating the explanation, “Yeah… I can see why they would make you homesick. Well, don’t let me interrupt, come in whenever you’re ready. I’ll find something to entertain Sari and buy you both some time.”

Optimus and Ratchet could barely hide their relief as you left. While they thought about how lucky they had been, you were thinking about what you would say to Optimus the next time you were alone with him. You knew you had to confront the elephant in the room, but the question was, how?

‘Sari first, then Optimus,’ You reminded yourself. ‘Tonight is for her, not me.’

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#tfa #maccadam #transformers animated #transformers #optimus prime #optimus prime x reader #halloween #ratchet #prowl #bumblebee #bulkhead #reader #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #painting faces #littlemissfictionof1999

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lavellane · 5 years ago

Note

11 for an oc of your choice :-)

11. your OC’s description of their game’s events

Dear Aisling,

(And Mom) (And Edith) (And Uncle Callahan) (And Jamie and Susie)(The triplets will probably want to read this too, right?) (Hi everyone)

So - the elephant in the letter room. I know you’re mad – real mad, probably. I can’t really say I blame you – all the unanswered letters, the vague replies, the months I’ve spent away. I’ve taken some time trying to figure out how exactly to go about this – do I spend a paragraph on the apology, or a page, or do I mention it in passing and save the grovelling for when I’m home? Well, I think given the state of things, I might … pepper in my apologies, while I finally try explain myself. I know I owe you (all) an explanation. I’m sorry you’ve had to wait until now to get it from me.

So, basically (Aisling, can you please make sure Mom and Susie sit down?) (I’m asking you because I know they won’t do it if I ask them myself) I got shot in the head.

I’m sorry!

Now, don’t worry! (Mom, PLEASE don’t worry) I’m fine. The man who shot me, Benny, he … well, he wasn’t a great shot, as it happens. He aimed point blank at my head (Mom, I’m okay!) and somehow still only managed to graze just above my ear (Mom, I still have my ear. I’m alright). Didn’t stop him from trying to bury me, though (Mom, I swear to you I’m just fine.) I woke in a town called Goodsprings, in the home of the doctor who stitched me up before I bled out (Aisling, check Mom, please. Maybe you could all take a quick five minute break here?).

Anyway, long story shot, the package I was set to deliver was gone. Taken, I’d assumed, by Benny. I KNOW what you’re thinking – why didn’t I come back home after all of this? Well, I didn’t want to come back empty handed. We needed the caps.

I’m sorry.

I spent a good month or so travelling around towns and settlements in the Mojave. I hated it, but Aisling, I think it might suit you despite all the deathclaws. Met a lot of people – most of them weren’t all that fond of me, but some reminded me of home. Good people. My travels led me to New Vegas, were I met a Pre War Millionaire who had uploaded his consciousness into a giant terminal and was controlling the city with an army of Securitrons, and a group of powerful families who may or may not have been cannibals.

Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.

Turns out this man, or machine, or . . . Turns out “Mr. House" was the client I was supposed to deliver for. Said the package was a platinum chip – or, more accurately, a key to full control over New Vegas’ securitron army. Anyone with the key was king, essentially.

At this point, I really didn’t feel like I could turn him away even if I wanted to. I owed him, I guess. Needed to make it right for losing his chip in the first place. I’m sorry.

I confronted Benny (politely!). He got away. I got shot at, again (I’m FINE, Mom!) and then he got captured by Caesar’s Legion. (You know the stories, Uncle Callahan. Turns out they’re ever worse than anything you could’ve told me.)

With some help, I managed to get into the Legionnaire camp (awful), met Caesar (awful) and freed Benny (still awful), somehow escaping with my life in the meanwhile. He must’ve decided not to risk shooting at me again, because he gave me the chip and that was that. Small mercies, I suppose.

I guess seeing the state of things with the Legion, their cruelty and mercilessness, has put some things into perspective. Up until this point I’d been helping out Mr House, mostly because I thought it to be the right thing. It’s his property, after all - and I was hired to bring it to him. But, seeing Caesar’s people up close … slavers and murders and rapists alike … I don’t think I can just sit by anymore. What kind of brother would I be if I didn’t do everything in my power to keep people like that from living in the same world as my sisters? What kind of son would I be?

I’m fighting the Legion. I’m going to keep fighting the Legion. I’m sorry.

I ended up giving the chip to that new West Coast group, the NCR. I’m still not fully sure what the think of them, but they’re trying to make the world safe, more secure, and if nothing else, I want that for you all. Especially now. So many of my months now have been spent helping people, forging alliances and friendships with all sorts – the Khans, the Brotherhood of Steel (Dad would’ve been so impressed by their bunker, Aisling), a group of demolition experts calling themselves Boomers, and even a group of friendly supermutants! (I’m okay, Mom. Promise.)

As for how it all ended, well … that’s the thing. The big thing. The reason I’m writing this now, as opposed to before, or later. This infighting with New Vegas and the NCR and Legion … it’s not over yet. There’s still one more thing to do, one more fight, one that I’m not entirely sure I’ll live through.

I’ll be okay. Once this is over, I’m coming home – and I’m coming home with enough caps to save us. But in case I don’t make it back I love you all, and miss you all. But this is something I need to see through to its end. I can’t keep looking the other way anymore. I have to be better, for all of your sakes.

I’m sorry.

Aisling, take care of Mom for me until I get back. Mom, try not to worry too much while I’m gone. Uncle Callahan, say hello to Holiday for me.

All my love,

Winston.

(PS. Mom, I know you’re angry, but if it makes you feel any better, I’ve also met someone. His name is Butch - he’s a Vault Dweller from Washington. I thought . . . maybe I could bring him with me when I finally come home. I think you’ll like him.)

#oc: winston #HI THANK U SM FOR ASKING also im so sorry this is so annoyingly long fdjfdjfd #winston canonically sends letters to his fam so i thought this would be super fitting #god..........i love him so much #the endings a bit rushed and i still need to work on his speech style but MAN hes so cute #truly my most wholesome oc to date #ultrastimpaks

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majingojira · 5 years ago

Text

Superman Real-Time Aging Timeline

As a followup to my Batman Timeline, here’s Superman!

After this, it’s either Wonder Woman, Spider-Man, or The Flash, but I don’t think any of them will be this complex. After all, it’s Superman!

A thing to understand, just as a general rule, there are other Kryptonian and Kryptonian like species running around. Sort of. There are basic species and then several derivatives, which have since become their own cultures, but all hold to the same general roots of which Kryptonians are a part of. These include, but are not limited to: The Kree, The Kherubim, The Viltrumites, and The Daxamites. There are others, of course, but that should give you an idea of what’s out there in the vast reaches of the universe.

As before, I won’t really go into villains that much (unless people ask me to do a quick rundown, at which point I’ll do my best).

Another thing to note is that, for the purposes of the crossover timeline, things are a lot less powerful than the comics would have you believe. A lot of people who engage in crossover timeline work tend to work from a “World Outside Your Window” approach. So, while weird things happen, they aren’t well known or accepted.

But we live at a time when flat-earthers and all sorts of reality denial run rampant.

But the short of it is, ya know how the Golden Age Superman couldn’t fly and could only jump 1/8th of a mile? That’s basically where we are at. Artillery shells can harm him, but bullets can’t. He has amazing senses and laser-eyes, but only his descendants who study advanced Chi-altering martial arts can exceed the limits of flesh and they are the ones who truly fly.

This is also why things that would normally be a joke for Superman to face in a crossover turn out to be actual threats.

But the comics do exaggerate in part to inflate Superman’s abilities to avoid conflicts if at all possible. Yes, as Watson to Holmes, DC is to Superman as far as this timeline is concerned. So, we get to take everything with a grain of salt.

I mean, remember last time when Cass pissed of the editors? Same deal.

Okay? Here we go!

The Crisis: The Crisis is an Even that is, was, and will occur across the multiverse (or segments of it). It occasionally seeps into time and space at different points. Since we are here, it can be assumed that the villain was defeated. It’s a weird time-space thing.

Pre-history: A humanoid space-faring race suffers through many rises and falls over several thousands of years of development. This leaves strange pockets where their descendants become their own race on different planets. Krypton was one such planet. A heavy gravity mining colony orbiting a red sun. The species race, now called Kryptonians, managed to maintain some technology of their glory days but did not explore much outside their homeworld. They augmented themselves into a race of “Supermen” to survive the harsh environment of the planet and the dangers of mining. This included nanites which acted as solar energy storage for emergency lighting and welding. However, the mining had begun destabilizing the planet...

1894 - Hugo Danner born.

Lex Luthor born.

1900 - The overlord Shao Khan (a.k.a. Mongul) of another realm known as “Outworld” challengers Earth to Mortal Kombat for control over its lands. He is tricked into doing this, as Earth isn’t another realm, but a whole planet that he could not absorb into his own even if he tried. For the next 10 years, champions are selected to battle his champions. 10 victories on one side will ‘seed’ territory to the other. Or, so Shao Khan thinks.

1910 - Hugo Danner fathers Arnold “Iron” Munroe.

1916 - Kal-El is born.

1917 - The destruction of Krypton, leaving only a handful of survivors. Among them are Kal-EL and the city-ship Argo. Kal-El is found on earth by the Kent family who adopts him and names him Clark.

The Argo City ship is affected by space-time and moves slower than Kal-El’s warp rocket. As it travels to “Pick Up” the stray (Kal’s rocket), they encounter a parasitoid alien life form (”Xenomorph”)that manages to slaughter many of the Kryptonians after assimilating their genetics. Kara Zor-El is the only survivor and manages to destroy Argo before heading to the only family she has left. The time-dilation effects mean she still thinks of Kal would be a defenseless baby. (modified Superman vs Aliens)

1930 - Clark Kent’s growing powers truly start to develop. He helps out in secret most of the time with the odd ‘disaster’ or two.

Hugo Danner fakes his death.

1932 - On a visit to New York for the first time, Clark runs into an early instance of true “Supercrime.” A group of criminals uses terrifying prototype mecha to cause all kinds of hell for law enforcement and people alike. The young Clark does his best to put a stop to them, but the true end for the gang comes from in a hail of bullets from the vigilante known as The Spider. (Satan’s Murder Machines/Superman (Comic Strip) “The Bandit Raiders of Metropolis”)

1937 - Clark Kent moves to New York City, THE Metropolis, to work at the Daily Star paper (later renamed the Daily Planet). He also debuts as Superman later in the year.

1938 - The Sarmaks of Mars, responsible for the 1898 invasion of earth, land a small invasion force in New Jersey. The Military is brought in to put it down, but are unable to accomplish much until a “Man of Action” (Superman) appears and routs the Invaders as they reach the edge of the Hudson River. (The War of the Worlds/It’s That Time Again 3: Even More New Stories of Old-Time Radio “War Between Two Worlds”/Superman: War of the Worlds). The event is broadcast partly by Orson Wells but is forced to say that it was all a Halloween radio play by a group of “government agents.” (Funny story, James Moriarity formed a group to aid the Martian Invasion and the thing went so badly for him that he created an organization specifically to make sure no one ever found out how big a mistake he made which eventually evolved into a general ‘coverup’ NGO. Nothing is more fragile than the ego).

1939 - Lex Luthor and Superman begin their rivalry. But at the time it is overshadowed by the so-called “Ultra-Humanite” who desired a new body to host his amazing mind. Superman and Batman meet for the first time stopping one of the Ultra-Humanite’s plans.

1940 - The Masked Vigilante Boom of the 1940s begins in earnest, with many people taking to vigilantism to battle crime. Black Canary and Green Arrow get their start among many others.

The Rocketeer: The Cargo of Doom - The Rocketeer deals with people smuggling animals from Skull Island, Superman lends a hand with the Megaprimatus kong brought with them that the comics later dub “Titano.”

The first Toyman, Winslow Schott, starts bothering people.

1941 - Formation of the Justice Society. As a social club for vigilantes and superhumans to unwind in. They mostly share stories and shoot the breeze, but occasionally teamed up for larger missions, especially when America entered WWII. But it’s primary purpose is networking and recovery.

Many of the Fleischer Superman cartoons occur around this time, except when noted.

1942 - All-New Collectors’ Edition #c-54 “Superman vs Wonder Woman” - Diana of Themyscira learns about the Manhattan Project and is utterly horrified. Clark and Diana have a confrontation about it, that does get briefly physical. They put their differences aside afterward (the threat of a Nazi bomb is a good reason to do so), but Diana starts to grow warry of the American Government.

1943 - Puck first bothers Superman as Mister Mxyzptlk.

Clark learns the full story of Krypton and first encounters Kryptonite (World’s Finest #271)

1944 - Superman creates his own “Fortress of Solitude” to hold dangerous things he encountered before it evolved into a general “Home Away from Home” he could visit.

1945 - The Last Days of the JSA

1946 - Alexis Luthor, son of Lex Luthor, is born.

1948 - Superman: Terror on the Midway/Mighty Joe Young - A large gorilla is brought from Africa to perform at a nightclub in Los Angeles. Lois is doing a report on it for the Planet when three drunks manage to get backstage and manage to both get the gorilla, Joe, drunk, but harass him to the point he breaks out of his cage. The gorilla goes on the rampage, breaking lions out of their cages as he does so. Lois helps people escape as Clark changes into Superman to subdue the Lions. He also assists in getting Joe back into his cage as the police arrive to shoot what lions Clark had not yet rounded up. When the incident goes to court, Clark covers the case. The court, however, rules to have Joe destroyed. His owner, the nightclub owner, and several others sympathetic to joe engineer his escape -- only to be stymied by a burning orphanage. Joe’s rescue of the orphans, Superman rounding up the drunks who sparked the conflagration, and Clark’s editorials sway public opinion and Joe is brought back to Africa.

Clark Kent and Lois Lane wed.

The House of Un-American Activities starts to target Costumed Vigilantes. The Justice Society disbanded in response. Diana Trevor, Wonder Woman, starts working from inside the system to counter McArthy and J. Edgar Hoover. Subtly and openly, be it the Holiday Girls (secretaries make excellent spies) or secretly abetting other superhumans. Still, most costumed vigilantes retire at this point. As for the rest… Some are apprehended, others sign up with the government, and others still are killed in FBI Raids.

As Superheroes are under fire from the government, several class-action lawsuits also hound more public figures of superheroes, and only a few survive with their reputations and resources intact.

1949 - Joel Kent is born to Clark and Lois Lane-Kent. Clark scales back his Superman work to take spend more time with his family. Joel is born without Superman’s fantastic abilities, but he is better than average almost everywhere else.

1950 - Jonathan Kent jr. was born to Clark and Lois Lane-Kent. Jonathan, however, is closer to his father than his brother. This causes some animosity between the boys as they grow older.

1952 - Richard Tyler, Hourman, is arrested as part of the FBI crackdown on costumed vigilantes. Very few remain active. Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, The Shadow, and The Avenger are the most prominent. Superman and Wonder Woman working with the Government, The Shadow, the Avenger, and Batman operating outside the law.

1953 - The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms/Superman “The Arctic Giant”/Batman #104 “The Creature from 20,000 Fathoms” – A prehistoric monster is awakened by nuclear testing in the arctic and proceeds to swim down to New York, sinking ships along the way. Superman confronts the beast as it lands in New York, driving it off for a moment before the military arrives to deal with the creature. When they manage to injure the creature with an anti-tank weapon, they release a deadly bacterial agent among the populous. Batman (Bruce Wayne) is able to deduce a method for dealing with the agent and the creature hosting it: radiation treatments. The man who first saw the creature manages to introduce a radioactive isotope to the monster’s system. The creature dies from its wounds in the midst of a roller coaster fire at Coney Island. The film omits the interference of costumed vigilantes, the Batman story, in particular, doing its best to be as far off as possible to the point where it doesn’t even make sense as a Batman story.

Clark Kent becomes the editor of the Daily Planet after Perry White retires.

1955-1975 - The Vietnam War.

1955 - John Henry Irons is born.

John Wilson and his family are lynched. He survives, dons a mask and grabbing a hammer, he hunts the Klan as the vigilante John Henry.

David Xanatos born.

1956 - Clark Kent first discovers the Phantom Zone Projector, a device from his homeworld, and learns of the various criminals held in there, such as Faora and General Zod. Some of which escape from time to time.

1958 - John Wilson is killed, but his legend as the civil rights defending, Klan smashing vigilante John Henry endures.

The malicious data life form known as Brainiac firsts demonstrates an interest in Earth.

1959 - The Centre incident occurs. (DC: The New Frontier)

Diana Trevor works out a government organization to better employ multi-mystery-man operations in the future with her at the head and thus limiting access to their identities or technologies by the other branches. This is often called “The Justice League” or “The Avengers” among other things. The laws about costumed vigilantism are changed somewhat.

Kara Zor-El’s rocket finally lands on earth. The press dubs her “Supergirl” when she joins in the “Family Business” and, being from a highly enlightened society that’s generally moved beyond barriers of gender or race, is extremely frustrated by the primitive mudball that is 1960s earth.

1960 - Wilson Fisk, who often claims to be a son of Lex Luthor, becomes the “Kingpin of Crime.”

1961 - The first appearance of the Parasite.

1963 - Incredible Hulk vs Superman - Superman attempts to apprehend the Incredible Hulk, but finds more dangerous foes about.

1964 - The children and relatives of many World War II heroes; including Jennifer-Lynn Scott (Jade), Iron Munro, Dee Tyler (Phantom Lady II), Tsunami (Miya Shimada, a Deep One), and Artemis Crock (Tigress II, daughter of Paula Brooks, Tigress I) among others; form a short-lived adventuring group called the Young All-Stars or All-Star Squadron. An adventure to the Maple White’s Lost World and meeting Hugo Danner (and his superhuman progeny) ends the team. Hugo Danner survives the encounter but is left brain-damaged. His later rampages are given the moniker of “Bizarro.”

Alex Luthor ‘takes over’ as the primary Luthor giving Clark and his family hell.

1965 - To battle monstrous threats, robotic sentries dubbed “Sentinels” or, more aggressively, “Terminators” are created. Though defeated early in their lifespan, they are often re-created in various models. The Data Life Forms these shells attract are often genocidal and highly dangerous. This is the start of the aggressive timeline of the rogue A.I. known as “Skynet” that continually attempts to ensure its creation and the destruction of humanity.

1966 - Kara Zor-El changes her moniker to “Power Femme” to coincide with the feminist movement she supports. The press still calls her “Power Girl.” She sometimes shows up to aid protests and has several clashes with the police. And by clashes, I mean “People hurt themselves trying to hurt her while she protects as many as she can.” It doesn’t help as much as she’d like.

Darkseid first shows an interest in earth.

Natalia Luthor, a niece of Alex Luthor, finds herself involved in her uncle’s business when she clashes with Supergirl.

1969 - Lois Lane passes away.

1970-1971 - Joel serves in Vietnam, and is generally horrified at what happens. he does his best to help where he can, but the system works against him. He rescues many people, one of them, Mei-Li, eventually becomes his wife. Together, they have a son. They name him Conner Kent. The experience mellows him significantly. He reconciles with his brother.

1970 - The Kent State Massacre occurs. Kara takes it very hard, having missed the protest to deal with other disasters.

Jack Nimball takes over as the second Toyman.

1972-1977 - A covert war against various demonic and subterranean attackers is waged primarily across east Asia, the front line of defense being various ‘Super-Robots’ such as Mazinger Z and Getter Robo. These use a modified ‘spirit engine’ to essentially use raw willpower to make up for what the technology lacked, but it had terrible side effects and the technology was eventually abandoned, if not outright banned. It is likely these helped in the creation of the Biomegas.

1972 - Lex Luthor passes away.

1973 - Diana Prince/Wonder Woman and Clark Kent take the time to comfort each other after the deaths of their spouses. This results in the birth of Athena Prince/Eiko Megami. She is raised primarily in Japan for the education system. Her power is best described as “Ungodly.”

Birth of Biko Daitokuji/Kiri Fujikawa, daughter of Tony Stark and Rumiko Daitokuji/Fujikawa (last name dependent on adaptation). They do not marry but keep open ties to each other.

1974 - Jonathan Kent takes over primarily as “Superman II” Though Clark still helps out where he can.

1975-1984 - The Biomega War is waged in Japan and in its coastal waters. It appears to end with the death of Doctor Shinka in 1984. Parts of him, however, survive, and biomega drones, beasts, and kaiju occasionally rise up from the depths after his defeat. They appear to be derived from the Centre.

1975 - Karen Kent Jr, named for her aunt, is born to Joel Kent and Carol Star-Kent.

David Xanatos receives instructions on how to become rich from his future self, as well as the coins to do it.

Superman vs. the Amazing Spider-Man: A Duel of Titans - Superman (Clark Kent) and Spider-Man (Peter Parker) are tricked into fighting each other by their foes, Doctor Octopus and Lex Luthor. The two heroes quickly team up and defeat the evildoers.

Scooby-Doo Team-Up #9 “Truth, Justice, and Scooby Snacks” - Clark Kent brings in Mysteries Inc. to help solve a haunting at the Daily Planet.

1977 - Jonathan Kent trains with Muhammad Ali to better handle opponents who are as strong or stronger than himself.

1980 - The being known as Lobo first appears on earth.

Shao Khan challenges earth to Mortal Kombat and picks up an unexpected “Kombatant” - Jonathan Kent. Appalled by the entire thing, he, as Superman, smashes not just the competition, but the entire contest of Mortal Kombat that cycle. The whole thing is thrown out, but Shao Khan is infuriated by this insult. Since the contest is considered a wash, his win streak remains unbroken...

Spider-Man and Superman: The Heroes and the Holocaust - Doctor Doom has a plan, involving the Parasite, Wonder Woman (Diana), The Hulk, and Superman (Clark). The timely interference of Spider-Man, however, disrupts his plans for world conquest.

1982 - Natasha Irons, daughter of John Henry Irons, is born.

The first true Arm Slave, the M4, is developed. Military use of giant robots (they tend to max out at 8 to 10m tall without exotic materials).

David Xanatos has his first clash with Superman in one of his dealings. The comics dub him “Lex Luthor” in many of his appearances.

Superman has his first encounter with a Banshee.

1983 - The “Doomsday Plan” to destroy several different superheroes begins forming. It culminates in elements from Project Metalbeast/Weapon X and Project Cyborg being applied to the original Mr. Hyde and lacing his body with radioactive substances such as Kryptonite. They dub this creature “Doomsday.”

The Terminator - The Skynet timeline sends two robotic assassins after its greatest foes. Against John Connor, it sends a T-800 Terminator. Against the Academy of the Strange/The X-Men/The Doom Patrol, it sends TN-001 Nimrod.

1984 - Superman Annual #11 “For the Man Who Has Everything” - Shao Khan/Mongul attempts to get revenge on Superman, but is stopped by the combined efforts of Wonder Woman, Batman, and Robin.

1986 - Doomsday is unleashed. Superman I and Power Girl I are crippled. Superman II is killed. The monster is killed and, in the light of the full moon, Hyde rejects the implants and continues on his horrible path restored to his former pre Doomsday glory. In the wake of the tragedy, Conner Kent tries to fill in for his Uncle and Grandfather and is dubbed “Superboy.” John Henry Irons creates a powered armor for himself and helps out as “The Man of Steel” or just “Steel.” The Skynet timeline also sends an agent, a “Cyborg Superman” to try and defeat its future foe.

1987 - Biko Daitkouji gains a controlling interest in her father’s company.

Project A-Ko - The daughter of Superman and Wonder Woman, under the pseudonym “Eiko Megami”, or just A-Ko, enrolls herself in a Japanese school, where she meets up with (and gets into a rivalry with) “Biko Daitokuji”, the daughter of Tony Stark. An intense rivalry develops over a ‘friendship’ one has and the other desires. It eventually devolves into a routine of Biko building a large machine or powered armor and getting into a fight with Eiko before school on a regular basis. Even an alien invasion (a single rescue ship causing havoc over one city) goes unnoticed until the target of their friendship is revealed to be their target. They put aside their differences briefly to get her back. The alien ship is crippled and can’t leave without heavy repairs. The aliens may be the Zentradi from the Macross series – the all-female Meltrandi side of their species at least. Its timeline placement is only here due to another crossover cameo and it may be set in the year 2009, but the only real available/likely time for both the character parentage to occur places it here. The newspaper her father is seen reading contains a reference to the Fleischer Superman short “The Bulleteers”.

Project A-Ko: The Plot of the Daitokuji Financial Group – 3 weeks after the events of Project A-Ko, during summer break, Biko and Eiko continue their rivalry as Biko’s father’s company tries to find the alien ship and raid it for technology. Unfortunately, every agency imaginable interested in alien technology trips over themselves trying to get the technology, and they end up with nothing once they anger Biko. The aliens once again manage to escape and hide amongst the populace, resigning their fate to earth until rescue can come. Eiko’s father is once again seen reading a “Daily Plenet” newspaper with a story discussing another Fleischer Superman short (the very first one, in fact).

Predator

Superman vs Predator - When the “Predator” self-destructs, his ship does not. when an alert signal is sent, another Predator comes to earth to clean up the mess but finds humans using the technology to insidious ends, as well as a worthy opponent: Superman (Conner Kent). In his first real big case, Conner is kept off-balance by the experienced hunter, but the plot is foiled and Conner manages to defeat the predator.

1988 - Karen Kent Jr. starts acting as Supergirl II. “Cir-El” is created by a cloning project.

Biko Daitokuji, in an effort to impress someone, starts acting more heroically and takes the moniker “Iron Woman” (as the band Iron Maiden didn’t want the name on a superhero). She also sometimes refers to herself as “Rescue.”

Project A-Ko: Cinderella Rhapsody – Biko and Eiko clash again over summer break, but this time over a guy. Ciko, the girl who had their ‘friendship’ earlier, feels left out until it turns out the guy Eiko and Biko are chasing likes Ciko instead of them. The JSDF is called out over the two girl’s squabbling, including weapons employed against the Frankenstein Brothers Sanda and Gaira (War of the Gargantuas). A brief appearance from the leads of the anime/manga Yawara! The Fashionable Judo Girl occurs in one scene where Eiko is working at a fast-food restaurant. They were customers.

1990 - Project A-Ko: Final – Kei’s arranged marriage drives Eiko and Biko into more of a tiff than usual, but they are left to themselves when a battle group of ships finally come to rescue the trapped aliens and their princess Ciko. She is taken back home and the fleet leaves.

Mortal Kombat - Shao Khan is defeated in Mortal Kombat.

Superman and Batman vs Aliens and Predator - This story is a mess, but here’s what is known from it: Batman (Bruce Wayne Jr.) and Superman (Connor Kent) are drawn into the ritual hunting of some Xenomorphs by Predators on earth. It goes sideways, Batman and Superman intervene and help the predators get back home with a “And Don’t come back!” message. The Predators take it as a challenge.

1991 - Mortal Kombat II - Shao Khan decides to just invade the earth anyway. He does so while EIko Megami is on vacation. The Invasion ends swiftly and Shao Khan slain. This forces a change in how the magical realms handle their conflicts. A year later, the Unseelie Accords are adopted by most major supernatural ‘nations’.

1994 - Karen Kent Jr. becomes Power Woman/Power Girl II. Conner Kent becomes “Superman” in the public eye at long last.

Arm Slave technology filters down to the public sector. Heavy construction mecha, known as Labors begin to see use in Japan and later the United States. These machines are 6 to 10 meters in height.

1995 - The first known instance of Labor-based crime occurs. After this, police forces with heavy labor use in their districts adopt Special Vehicles Units, police squads that pilot labors, to counter labor crime. These “Patrol Labors” eventually get nicknamed “Patlabor” Military contractors see this as an excellent testing bed for many technologies that would later be employed on military labors and arm slaves.

Conner Kent and Cassandra Sandsmark wed, but she keeps her name as is.

Terminator 2: Judgement Day

Superman vs Terminator - Parallel to the events of T2, Terminators are sent after another foe Skynet foresees--Superman (Conner Kent). Working together with Sarah and John Connor, Superman is able to put down the threat from the Skynet timeline, as well as finish it off in the future. At least, one future...

Shock-Jock Leslie Willis becomes Livewire.

1996 - An angel with the ‘human’ identity of Linda Danvers aids the Super-family and becomes known as Supergirl III.

Buffy Anne Summers is called as the next Vampire Slayer.

Wilson Fisk passes away, and his mantle as Kingpin of Crime is taken up by “Gentleman” Johnny Marcone.

The formation of “Young Justice” - a friendly hangout of many second and third-generation superhumans. Members include Conner Kent, Cassandra Sandsmark, Tim Drake, Carrie Kelly, Helena Bertinelli Jr, and Bart Allen. With many others joining the group as time goes on. Their exploits are occasionally disseminated as either the “JLA” or “Young Justice” depending on the tone of the adventure.

1997 - David Xanatos, after marrying and having a son, reforms.

1998 - Superman/Gen13

Savage Dragon/Superman - Superman III (Conner Kent) and Savage Dragon work together on a case in Chicago involving criminals being mind-controlled by parasitic worms.

Superman/Savage Dragon - Superman and Savage Dragon battle a New God known as Killroy.

1999 - The third generation of Arm Slaves begins the prototyping phase. The development of the Lambda Driver alters the development of this mech. Many of the early bits of technology are taken from prototyping the technologies in police Labor units.

The vampire known as Angel sets up “Angel Investigations” to help the helpless.

Hiro Okuamura attempts to be a “Heroic” Toyman.

JLA/Witchblade - Sarah Pezzini, wielder of the Witchblade, goes to the “Justice League” for help understanding her artifact (primarily Cassie Sandsmark). The Witchblade then jumps around the group’s female members to find ‘better’ hosts before Sarah shames it into coming back to her.

2000 - Linda, has taken to calling herself “Lee” leaves the material world behind and moves to the mystical between-worlds city of Bette Noir and eventually becomes its ‘mayor’.

Conner Kent and Cassandra Sandsmark/Wonder Woman III have a son together, Jon Kent III.

Natasha Irons takes over her father’s mantle as Steel II.

Superman III (Conner Kent) confronts the darker actions of his contemporaries who call themselves “The Authority” ... and schools them. (“What’s So Funny About Truth, Justice and The American Way?”)

2003 - Cir-El/Mia Kent is adopted by Conner Kent and Cassandra Sandsmark, starts operating as Supergirl IV.

Sunnydale is destroyed and the number of Vampire Slayers goes from a single lineage to over 2000 at any one time.

The Darkness/Superman - Superman confronts the current wielder of the Darkness, Jackie Escatato.

JLA/Cyberfoce - An informal group of heroes aid a covert cyborg team with some cyborg-zombies.

2004 - Fallen Angel Reborn- In order to regain her lost powers, the Old One in a Human Shell, Illyria, travels to Bette Noir to reclaim her icons, and battles Lee the Fallen Angel for them. Illyria learns something about her new state and accepts that she, herself, has changed.

The Circle of Black Thorn (also known as The Pride) and Wolfram & Hart are defeated by a group of Runaways, the vampire Angel and his allies. Angel and his cohorts are caught in a temporal loop as punishment while the children escape. Massive destruction is initially wrought, but undone via time loop. Many people in LA have vague memories of what happened, eventually leading to the production of the film “Last Angel in Hell” starring Nicholas Cage.

DC Comics insists Mia wear a blond wig to better display the “Iconic” supergirl. She really doesn’t like the new look.

2005-2015 - The Biomega Kaiju menace trickles through with various attacks until it comes to a head in 2015 when it revives the Centre. The beast is destroyed, ending the Biomega threat...for now. (Atomic Robo and the Ring of Fire, Pacific Rim)

2008 - The Cellphone camera becomes common. This means that supernatural events are part of common knowledge, but a combination of factors (not lining up with common religious beliefs, the “Somebody Else’s Problem Field”, charlatans continuing to operate regardless, etc) mean that while people ‘know’ they don’t really do much about it, deny its existence, or think of them in completely wrongheaded ways.

Livewire’s powers are finally put under control and she is allowed to perform “Community Service” with her abilities as a hero.

2010 - Jon Kent starts adventuring as Superboy III.

And that’s where things have left off.

#DC #superhero #Crossovers #Superman #Clark Kent #Timeline #Crossover Timeline #Connor Kent #Superboy #Kon-El #Supergirl #Power Girl #Kara Zor-el #Mia Kent #Cir-El #Lex Luthor

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rachelthompsonauthor · 5 years ago

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Every year I pick a power word as a way to guide my goals and progress each year, and this year my word is boundaries. Not a fan of resolutions, I find having one word gives me the laser focus I need not only in my personal life but also in business and writing.

Establishing healthy boundaries is a critical part of our everyday lives, regardless of whether we are survivors of abuse or not. However, due to the myriad of different ways abuse survivors develop survival skills, we may not even realize we allow people to push our boundaries because we’ve not thought about what these boundaries are.

For this article, I’m discussing boundaries we can set in ‘safe’ life situations, not abusive situations.

If you are currently in a dangerous or abusive situation, where setting a boundary with a partner can cause you physical harm, please get help. Call the National Domestic Violence Hotline – their advocates are available 24/7 at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) in more than 200 languages. All calls are free and confidential.

What Are Boundaries?

Boundaries can be demonstrated in five ways: body, thinking, feeling, behavioral, and now, digital. Let’s define this further:

Boundaries represent physical and emotional limits that you don’t want other people to cross. They help define your sense of self by separating your needs, desires, thoughts, and feelings from those of others’. Boundaries are the dividing lines between you and everyone else and they help make you an individual from the group.

Boundaries also help you know your limits about how much “baggage” you can take on from other people. When you set strong and appropriate boundaries, you will help other people know how to treat you. You will essentially be teaching them what is ok and what is not ok to do and say around you. Boundaries also give measure to the amount of time, money, emotional resources, or energy you can afford to give. (Source: Therapy in Philadephia.)

I love this definition because it so clearly states what boundaries are and how they work. In my work on #SexAbuseChat (every Tuesday 6 pm pst/9 pm est), as well as one-on-one discussions, many adult survivors find this definition terrifying. Why? Many reasons, of course; the most common is defying the authority figure (usually a parent) who is still involved in their lives, whether or not that person abused them.

In my case, an adult neighbor dad abused me at age eleven. Despite serving a less than two-year sentence, my family and his continued to live next door to one another. Once I moved away for college, I only saw him or his family when I returned home to visit my folks (quite often, since my uni was in the same city), and had no interaction with them, other than their glares at me.

Like any child who grows into an adult, I experienced the need to separate from my own parents. See the world. Be independent. Live life on my own. Visiting them less frequently helped me move away from seeing my abuser as well.

Setting a Foundation

Why is this my power word now, thirty years later, now that I’m in my mid-fifties? So much of my life has come full-circle. I moved to another coast alone in my late twenties to escape the town where my neighbor abused me, pursued a corporate career, married for love, had two children, divorced after two decades, started my own business, wrote six books (so far), and more. Now I’m back living in a quiet suburb of the same area where I grew up.

My parents moved from that house (thankfully), and I now live with my own family about a mile away from my folks. I absolutely had to set boundaries when I moved back here. Like what?

No popping over unannounced.

No spending every holiday, birthday, and minor Jewish holidays nobody’s ever heard of together.

No getting up in each other’s business.

This foundation has helped quite a bit, though it’s not always been entirely successful (she chuckles ruefully to herself). My older sister and her husband also moved back to this area around the same time I did. Same rules apply. We do the best we can.

Setting boundaries in real life or our online lives helps us decide what behaviors we will accept from others, and even ourselves. If the way someone treats us is unacceptable, we need to realize it’s okay, and perfectly acceptable, to say no to spending time with that person because we are adults now.

What may have been out of our control when we were children now is up to us to decide.

Ways to Set Boundaries

If setting boundaries is a goal for you, here are the tips I use and am currently working on:

Don’t Worry What Others Think

Just as I coach writers to #WriteWhatScaresYou, and to not worry if someone is upset with our truths, the same rule applies here. If others aren’t accepting of my boundaries, that’s not my issue. I’m an adult woman, and I’m allowed to make my own decisions. Sometimes, when people come at me unhappy with a boundary I’ve stated, it’s difficult. I am human, after all. It does affect me, however, I have to do what’s right for me and my own mental health.

Self-care isn’t selfish.

Example: After my divorce, things got tense, as these things often do. Due to abusive actions by my ex, I cut off all contact with him, with the exception of email, so we could still discuss any custody specifics (drop-offs, pick-ups, etc.). Other than that, I’ve blocked him on text, social media…basically, everywhere. His issues are no longer my issues.

This forced him to comply with my boundaries. It’s also empowering!

Maintain Communications If Necessary

In my example above, I set a boundary yet still maintained a form of necessary communication on my terms. With loved ones still in your life, it’s often helpful to set boundaries up front. With survivors, this doesn’t always happen due to our past experiences and the lack of the realization that we need established boundaries.

Working with survivors, many express they simply cannot tell significant others or family members, “No,” out of a fear of rejection, abusive behavior, or other fears of retribution (often valid). How do we go about setting boundaries around these fears? This is trickier, yet not impossible.

In my case, I didn’t set that boundary with my ex right away. For years, he would leave me constant texts about what I posted on social media and how that somehow was a dig at him. At one point, he attempted to use my memoirs, Broken Pieces and Broken Places, as examples in court of ‘how much she ‘hates men,’ to which my lawyer responded, ‘you realize she lives with a man, right?’ (Hilarious, but whatever).

Point is, regardless of this ridiculous back and forth, I couldn’t cut off communications completely, however much I wanted to.

Breathe and Remain Calm

Telling someone you are unavailable to do whatever it is they desire can make our hearts race as if we are running an obstacle course of trip-wires and poison-dipped arrows waiting to pierce us. Why? Because we cannot predict the reaction we’ll get and also we anticipate a confrontation about it when there may not be one at all. It’s often easier to do whatever it is someone wants us to rather than assert our free will, which then leaves us deflated and filled with self-loathing.

Not fun. Not healthy. Not what we need.

Breathe, my lovelies.

Next time someone wants you to do something you don’t want to do, tell them no. I promise you, the world will not come to an end. If saying, “No,” feels too abrupt, instead say, “I have a conflict,” which is an easy out. Another is, “I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

Panic is not your friend here. Remain calm by knowing in advance what your boundaries are beforehand.

Know Your Comfort Level

As survivors, we are often hit with triggers that come out of nowhere. Sometimes we know exactly what sets us off; other times, we don’t. Life, eh? Welcome to our lives.

When triggers slam into us, we face discomfort, horror, fear. We’re brought right back into that abuse headspace. We have no choice – just as we had no choice when our abusers abused us. We learn by walking through the fire exactly what we’re okay with and what we’re decidedly not. Triggers give us that, in a warped kind of ethereal gift from the universe.

Yet, I’m not talking only about triggers here. Actively working out how far we’re willing to push ourselves into a situation (or out of one) is critical to understanding our boundaries. This can be as simple as becoming comfortable with blocking trolls on Twitter to letting clients know you’re unavailable after 6 pm.

Whatever it is, create a list of your boundaries. Then you’ll know how to stick to them, and which may be negotiable.

Change Your Paradigm

A man challenged me (shocker) on Twitter about ‘saying no,’ and boundaries, explaining 🙄 we are depriving ourselves of adventures and experiences, so instead we should say ‘yes’ to everything. I won’t go into the whole discussion about how men and women experience the world differently (duh), or defend the entire concept of the well-documented mental health value of creating boundaries for ourselves, or that survivors and non-survivors experience the world in wildly different ways.

Pushing ourselves out of our comfort zones is one thing. A blanket statement explaining how “we need to say yes to everything” is uninformed.

I will say, however, there’s no shame in working through boundary and trust issues as survivors of sexual abuse. We absolutely deserve the right to receive love and support in these choices. Doesn’t mean people will give it, yet we also cannot control that.

Final Thoughts

Boundaries are important because they help us feel safe in a variety of circumstances. That said, it’s a fluid process. Once we’re comfortable telling people “no” in one situation, it will become easier in others. We may also become more comfortable saying yes once we’ve conquered a certain fear or time has passed.

Remember: This is your journey. You’re an adult. Don’t ever feel bad because you’ve set a boundary.

This is my power word for 2020, so you’ll see many blog posts, quotes, and articles in my social media feeds on the topic. I’m working on boundary issues in my own relationships with family and friends, and I’ll be sharing those experiences with you as I traverse these paths as well.

I’d love to know what your power word is for 2020. Please share, along with any comments or thoughts, below!

***

Read more about Rachel’s experiences in the award-winning book, Broken Pieces.

She goes into more detail about living with PTSD and realizing the effects of how being a survivor affected her life in

Broken Places, available in print everywhere!

The post This is Why “Boundaries” is My 2020 Power Word appeared first on Rachel Thompson.

via Rachel Thompson

#IFTTT #Rachel Thompson

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cellard0ors · 5 years ago

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Personal Post That’s Probably Too Personal

I feel like venting and I don’t have a therapist (cut for people who could care less - sorry if you are on mobile and can’t escape)

So I’m seeing my family today.

We are yet again meeting at my sister’s house. For those of you who have followed my blog awhile, you know I have issues with my sister - so, as per always, I am feeling...anxious about the whole thing.

Normally what happens is, my parents talk and my sister talks and I play with my phone - miserable. Miserable because I can’t be myself without possibly facing confrontation, put-downs, or general uncomfortable-ness.

My mom is pretty great - a little flighty and sort of confused 24/7, but she’s at least sweet. She doesn’t fully understand me (I told her about how a lot of the characters I identified with as a girl are now thought of as lesbians and she was like ‘I think you’re straight!’ and I was like...okay, I’m...a little less than that, but okay) but I at least have no worries about her being rude to me.

My Dad and I didn’t have a relationship at all until I was over 16. He didn’t know how to handle kids - he didn’t want kids. We had nothing in common - not until my Mom went through an unfortunate alcoholic phase due to her own personal issues (found out she was adopted - within the family - a common occurrence in my line - it’’s happened 3 times!) and we sort of bonded over that.

Does it erase the many times he called me stupid (because I’m bad at math) and fat? No, but we at least came to some common ground and I do have some affection for the guy.

...and that leads to sister. So, my sister, I’ll just tell you her name is Jena. Jena has a huge chip on her shoulder. She had a tough childhood medically/mentally - she was born with very bad ulcerative colitis, she’s dyslexic, she got pregnant when she was 16 and gave the baby up for adoption within the family (told you it happened more than once)

But let’s not split hairs - she was a bully and abusive towards me. Apparently I was viewed as the ‘good’ child and she the ‘bad’ child. She had a temper. She hit me, tore down everything (and I do mean everything) i liked and generally went out of her way to intimidate me.

I used to be scared when she came home. I did everything in my power to avoid her. But she would go through...phases...where she decided she liked me. That she was my big sister and she should help me or watch over me or something. She’d take me to movies, stand up for me against others, she’d treat me well.

Only to eventually cycle back around.

Now here we are - several years later and she’s got a government job, a super expensive home, 2 dogs, a boyfriend (who I generally l like because he’s MENSA smart and tends to put her in her place) - and she seems to think we should be best friends.

...best friends who have nothing in common and are two completely different people. Jena likes to put down our parents, our childhood, our upbringing. She abhors the town where we grew up and still lives - remarking it’s full of uneducated hillbillies.

She once remarked that co-ed bathrooms opened us up to being raped and that I was un-feminist because I suggested maybe Hilary Clinton getting a divorce would be a good move in her political career and oh, politics.

My full loathing for politics comes from my family. My family is staunchly democratic, they hate Donald Trump and have to have a democrat in the White House or the world is over. BUT they also don’t want anything to do with poor people (see: black) and they can’t imagine a world without a government providing everything for them.

I, personally, think the system is broken. I think both parties are out for themselves. I think both parties figureheads have a shit-ton of money and should actually give back to the community, but I never see that and I can’t mention it to my family because - if I do - apparently I’m a republican.

I basically have to write a 10 page essay as to why I feel like I do, with citation notes to prove it and then - even then - I’m wrong.

And my sexuality?

Don’t get me started.

I’m in a relationship with a man. Have been - long time now. We don’t have sex. He loves me. He’s told me many times he doesn’t need sex, that, in fact - he hates the stereotype of men having to have sex to survive. We have a romantic relationship - we kiss, we snuggle, nothing else.

I’ve had issues with sex for a long time. I’ve done sexual things, but I’ve never particularly enjoyed it. I like the idea of it - reading about it, writing about it - but in those scenarios - it’s not me.

I don’t want anyone to touch me like that. I like kissing. A LOT. But past that I’m...uncomfortable. I love romance. Love, love, love it. Stories and movies and everything. But sex? Not so much.

I wanted to kiss a girl once. Very much so. We were both drunk and friends and giggling in my waterbed and she said something like ‘if we were any drunker, I’d kiss you’ - I think about that a lot. Because I wanted to kiss her. Eventually she stopped being my friend - that’s a whole other story - a whole other heartbreak with a lot of tears and what not...

...it’s a story I haven’t really told anybody.

But backing it up - I can’t tell my family this. They won’t understand. I did - DID - drunkenly tell Jena about the asexual thing when we were in a good cycle of our relationship.

Her immediate conclusion was that I’m a lesbian. I think she’s forgotten. I hope she has, because she wasn’t right and I didn’t feel like correcting her and she absolutely hates my SO (thinks he’s a hillbilly republican) and, to be fair, he hates her back because he knows the shit she put me through.

And here we are...me seeing her again. My family again.

The last holiday we spent together - Easter - afterwards, she spoke to my Mom.That day I was also playing with my phone and miserable and she told her she thought I didn’t like her, that she was going to stop randomly texting me about shows she watches and wanting to hang out.

I was relieved. I was upset. I felt bad - felt like I shouldn’t have hurt her feelings. I had guilt dreams. What does that say about me? What is today going to be like?

I don’t know - this post is long and rambly and probably not going to be read and that’s okay, I just....needed to get it out of me and this is my blog and if I want to be personal on it and vent to it like a therapist, I can chose to do that.

If you DID read this monstrosity, you have my thanks and my hope that you don’t feel this conflicted in the future. That you wish me luck and know I wish you the same.

-cellar

#personal post #me #my sister #my family #my sexuality #father's day

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cap-ironman · 6 years ago

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2018 Cap-Iron Man Holiday Exchange, and Community Gifts Creators Reveals & Master post

This year we got a record 111 works submitted for our event! Thank you all very much for participating in all kinds of ways: writing, arting, submitting the prompts for the Community Gifts, cheerleading the creators, and beta-reading! We hope you had lots of fun. And here, finally, is the full event masterlist revealing the creators of each work! Please remember to mind the tags and warnings at each individual work page.

★ Between the Minutes and the Beats by dreamkist for somalester (MCU, 2610 words)

A retrieval mission goes sideways and Tony learns there are ways out of the dark.

★ A Common Folly by royal_chandler for kellebelle (MCU, 3982 words)

Alongside the growing skirt of daylight, a miserable hangover had greeted Tony the next day. Steve sputtering through awkward morning-after talk had only made it worse, his hands a busy flurry in Tony’s face and dizzying. To save himself the trouble of lengthy jail time, Tony had smothered him with a cotton-dry mouth rather than with a pillow he’d be half-seriously contemplating. And after that? Well Tony discovered that he quite liked kissing Steve and being kissed by Steve.

★ From Small Things... by Shadowolf19 for Sineala (616, 15223 words)

Steve realizes he's been kind of a terrible boyfriend to everyone he's dated, and he'd like to change. He knows exactly who to ask for dating tips: Tony. Tony agrees to go on a practice date with him and give him some pointers based on what he knows about Steve, up to and including a kiss goodnight.

★ I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day by alexcat for ToneeStark (MCU, 4056 words)

Tony and Steve find each other under the mistletoe.

★ Roadside (Captain) America by salable_mystic for gottalovev (MCU, art)

Steve Rogers on a motorcycle ... .

★ Valse des Cygnes by Fluffypanda for mitochondrials (Ultimate, 4562 words)

The Ultimates are set to be the hottest new superhero team in America, but after the launch party Tony Stark's armor is found wrecked and he's presumed dead. Steve wants to get to the bottom of what really happened while the rest of the team is ready to move on.

★ Under Wraps by runningondreams for Cap Iron Man Community (616, 1491 words)

Tony's spent a lot of time planning for this party. He's bought and wrapped gifts, sent out invitations, helped Jarvis decorate and made sure there will be enough food for a super-human crowd.

He didn't plan for mistletoe.

★ We Kill the Flame by laireshi for Cap Iron Man Community (616, 1017 words)

Steve runs his thumb over Tony’s lower lip. “You will break,” he promises.

He’s not right.

Tony’s broken already.

★ You Look Cute in That (2018 Gift Exchange) by One and Five Nines for Cap Iron Man Community (Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), art)

Fill for the prompt: Steve offers Tony to try on his Captain America uniform to make Tony's childhood dream come true (and he loves to see Tony's wearing his stuff)

★ Growing Old Together by Cachette for XtaticPearl (Any, art)

I loved so many of the prompts I had a hard time choosing! XtaticPearl has some great ideas and I hope somehow they get made in the future, but I hope you enjoy this one for now!

★ I Wanna Love You Like I Can by Nixie_DeAngel for marumo (Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), 1554 words)

After an unexpected visit from people that were long thought gone, both Tony and Steve have to reevaluate what they want from the present, the future, and most importantly, each other.

★ In Want Of A Ticking Heart by XtaticPearl for DepressingGreenie (AU, 20529 words)

They dealt with lightning every day, trapping and taming the power of gods on a ship that flew with the gibbons. For all that was strange with their everyday life, the Captain of Avenger never really had understood the stars even as he had admired them between stretched fingers. Little did the regular old Steve Rogers predict though, that the stars were trying to understand him in return too, and from quite closer than expected.

★ somebody to love (do you need anybody) by tony_starkrogers for salable_mystic (MCU, 4245 words)

Steve Rogers is Tony Stark’s PA... but will they ever be something more?

★ To spend an evening with me by Lets_call_me_Lily for monkiainen (MCU, art)

Steve and Tony, late in the evening at a cheerful little café... The perfect place for words of love to slip out.

★ where good affections grow by shell-heads for laireshi (616, 2780 words)

On nights when he can't sleep, dogged down by greyscale memories or intricate plans, Tony slips into orphanages and holds babies in their sleep. He doesn't talk about it, and very few know at all, but when he leaves bed to head out for the first time in his new, wonderful relationship with Steve, he doesn't expect Steve to come along.

He panics at first, because this is something he can't talk about, something he's never been able to share with anyone before, but Steve holds his hand and smiles at him like all the stars are in Tony's eyes, and when he says, "I love you," well-Tony can't help but think Steve could be yet another exception to one of his rules.

So he goes, and Steve comes with him, and like everything they do together, it's twice as good as anything they do alone.

★ Behind Closed Doors by runningondreams for Cap Iron Man Community (616, 3285 words)

The Mansion is in shambles. Tony's life is in shambles. And then there's Steve. Solid, dependable Steve, doing his best to keep them all whole.

Sometimes, there are no good answers left.

★ upon us all a little rain must fall by Lets_call_me_Lily for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, art)

Pathetic fallacy finds Steve sadly dangling his legs over the edge of a bridge while it rains. Tony, being Tony, goes after him.

★ You Don't Need To Surrender by laireshi for Cap Iron Man Community (616, 1703 words)

There's a reason why Tony knows so well what Steve likes in bed, but Steve does not remember what Hydra Cap did. He's just happy to finally be with Tony.

★ Christmas Affair by Neverever for tonystarkssnipples (MCU, 6646 words)

Tony thinks that Steve will be proposing to him after many years of living together, except that Steve has a secret that could ruin it all.

★ Escape by laireshi for Ironlawyer (616, 1712 words)

Tony Stark is tired of rebuilding. He finds escape the way he usually does, down at the bottom of the bottle . . . But it's okay. It's safe this time. Virtual reality isn't, after all, real.

★ Gift from the Heart by Neverever for SmileAndASong (Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), 4805 words)

Steve and Tony have been dating for awhile now but Steve struggles to get Tony just the right gift for Christmas.

★ Lying is the Hardest Part by kellebelle for dsidhe (MCU, 4889 words)

Tony gets hit with a truth serum. The struggle is real.

★ Smile at the Camera by littleblackbow for gryvon (616, Art & 51 words)

I wasn't sure what to do with the prompts since I'm gifting you some art. But my idea was that this was kind of a confrontation with the voracious press. What happens when the photo gets out.

Anyway, I hope you like it. Happy Christmas and New Year and all of that traditional good feeling stuff!

★ Under the Mistletoe by gryvon for afincf_tirwer (MCU, 1154 words)

He steps out and frowns at the other Avengers, all conspicuously hovering by the windows at the opposite side of the room. Clint's grin means nothing good. Bruce is far too interested in the cup of tea in his hands. Natasha meets his gaze, smirks, and very pointedly looks up.

Tony looks up. Every available inch of the ceiling is covered in plastic mistletoe except, of course, the area the other Avengers are standing.

"Goddammit," Tony says, with feeling.

★ Just wanted to propose! by afincf_tirwer for nasa (MCU, 4157 words)

Steve sees Tony nearly get killed and realises he cannot lose him. One thing leads to another and they make their way to the altar. Barring a few bumps in the road such as when Steve is kidnapped by Hydra and tortured. The night he meant to propose. CAN'T EVIL TAKE ONE NIGHT OFF?

★ Fervor by erde for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 4377 words)

Steve finds himself in some particular kind of trouble after breathing a chemical. Tony, who supposedly doesn't want anything to do with him anymore, gives him a hand.

★ One Acquainted with the Night by alexcat for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 2964 words)

Tony and Steve meet accidentally on purpose.

★ At Last by PjCole for shell-heads (616, art)

Art of Steve and Tony smiling on their wedding day.

★ Forever Linked by ashes0909 and athletiger for Hayluhalo (MCU, 11225 words)

Before the door even clicked shut, he opened his mouth to let the pink petals flutter to the ground. In the center of all this mess was a single rose, not yet bloomed, but Tony knew, deep down, what this meant.

But they were only teammates for sure; nothing else will go further.

“You have Hanahaki?” she asked, barely more than a whisper.

He fisted out the petal from his pocket and held it out to her. “If that’s what would cause this to come out of my throat.”

★ Heartlines by nanasekei for MusicalLuna (MCU, 7845 words)

“Let me,” Tony repeats. He regrets it deeply, so much, he wants to stick the words back into his mouth again, and it must show, in the way his voice wavers. He feels exposed, all of a sudden, as if he’s asking something bigger than what he can actually say. Let me touch you, let me take care of you. “Just… Let me do it.”

★ Left Turn by mitochondrials for dreamkist (MCU, 2556 words)

Steve knows his past sins can't simply be washed away just because Thanos hurdled the Universe into the apocalypse. Still, he can't help but desperately desire Tony's attention. Tony's anything.

★ A Love Song (The Way It's Meant to Be) by msermesth for Missy_dee811 (616, 2750 words)

“I can’t do this anymore, Steve. I just… can’t.”

Steve hears the words out of Tony’s mouth, but he doesn’t understand them, doesn’t recognize what they mean when strung together in a sentence. Tony’s staring straight ahead, watching him, stoic and unmoving, and he’s ready for a battle he doesn’t want.

“What can’t you do?” Steve asks and the words catch in his throat because he knows when Tony isn’t going to back down.

“I can’t be with you.”

★ Matter of the heart by DepressingGreenie for athletiger (MCU, 1163 words)

Tony is diagnosed with a rare heart condition. Steve is the heart specialist he sees.

★ No Surprises by dirigibleplumbing for alexcat (MCU, 4313 words)

Tony (and Nebula) crash-land on the lawn of Avenger’s compound. The first person Tony sees when he steps out of the wreckage is Steve. He doesn’t know if he’s relieved or furious that Steve has survived, too. Somehow, the world keeps going. Tony mostly keeps going too—and figures out how to feel about Steve.

★ Chocolatier by somalester for Cap Iron Man Community (Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), 1278 words)

For the prompt: "Tony, you're like, hot chocolate" - Or: Steve gets intoxicated by HYDRA and ends up being a little too honest.

★ forget-me-not by somalester for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 1731 words)

For the prompt: "Steve retires. Tony visits him." / Or, years after Civil War and Thanos, Tony and Steve have a much needed talk.

★ Fire No Guns, Shed No Tears by vextant for Fluffypanda (Noir, 3864 words)

10 November 1813

The Captain has not been spotted for nigh on four days — we all fear for the cargo she carries. To lose her would be to lose our young nation’s most precious treasure, our hope of fending off Great Britain and her puppet Commonwealth once and for all.

I told them not to risk it, I told them! The lake will claim what she will, and now too she holds the wealth, the legacy of this Brotherhood — nay, of these United States.

—

After officially retiring from adventuring in 1940, Tony Stark has found an old Freemason's journal that says there's treasure buried at the bottom of one of the Great Lakes. What he ends up dredging up is significantly more interesting than gold.

★ Frosting and Ink by kenshincha for malome78 (MCU, 1223 words)

Tony runs a bakery and Steve runs the Tattoo shop across the street. Steve goes into Tony's shop on a lark.

★ Good to Have You Back by Sineala for Lady_Katana4544 (616, 3863 words)

When business calls him away from Avengers Mountain, Tony leaves his AI at home to keep Steve company. And when the two of them are called into battle, Steve needs all the help he can get against a foe he never wanted to face again.

★ No Chance Of Listening by monkiainen for nanasekei (MCU, 1320 words)

Tony most definitely does not want to go back to the team after what happened with Ultron. Never. If only Steve could understand it.

★ This Simple Feeling by inukagome15 for Neverever (MCU, 17380 words)

When are two good friends not good friends? Sounds like the setup for a brilliant joke, right? Except when the joke mirrors real life. Tony and Steve are just very good friends. So why is it everyone thinks they're dating?

★ Synapses by Shaliara for magicasen (616, Art + 963 words)

"I dream we are back on Earth and you're telling me not to go."

★ A Good Man by alexcat for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 465 words)

Tony mourns.

★ Game Over: Start Again? by laireshi and runningondreams for Cap Iron Man Community (616, 2408 words)

A first kiss is a beginning. A last kiss is an end. Steve and Tony have shared a few of both.

★ Impossible to Unsee by alexcat for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 2114 words)

Steve sees something he can't unsee or forget.

★ Animal Instincts by Meatball42 for Cachette (MCU, 1300 words)

When Steve's dog may be set upon by a dog-napper, Steve rushes to the rescue... only to find that he is the one in need of a little bit of assistance.

★ Better Days by Missy_dee811 for Shadowolf19 (MCU, 3056 words)

After the end of Infinity War, Tony finds himself drifting in space. When he returns to Earth, he doesn't know how to cope with Peter's death. He starts drinking heavily. Nothing anyone says helps, so it's up to Steve.

★ Just a little date by jayjayverse for Nixie_DeAngel (MCU, art)

Steve and Tony have an impromptu date night in the lab.

★ Rooftops, Rings and Rutabagas by Sadisticsparkle for adarksweetness (Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), 3428 words)

A date night goes horribly wrong and then goes horribly right.

★ Why We Need to Talk by navaan for ishipallthings (616, 3454 words)

After the Red Zone incident, Steve's sure he and Tony need to talk. But as always with them too many things are going down at the same time.

★ Your Way by brokenEisenglas for PjCole (MCU, 3894 words)

We've been riding the same train for nearly three years now... And I don't even know his name.

★ In the Dark by runningondreams for Cap Iron Man Community (616, 2452 words)

After midnight, in a private room, just the two of them and a movie they've both already seen. Anything could happen, right?

★ Malibu: Become Hero by Veldeia for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU/Detroit: Become Human, 17342 words)

To survive his injuries and captivity by the Ten Rings, Tony makes the difficult decision to take apart a damaged military android left gathering dust among scavenged weapons. What he doesn't expect is that he'll be gifted an intact unit of the very same prototype model later, or just how important this SR100, better known as Steve, will become to him.

(Fusion/crossover with Detroit: Become Human; fills the community prompt asking for one: "Anything that fuses Detroit: Become Human with a Marvel canon of your choice".)

★ Password required by cptxrogers for Cap Iron Man Community (616, 872 words)

Steve thinks that maybe Tony is trying to tell him something with all these security measures.

aka Tony's passwords for Steve change into increasingly more obvious love confessions

★ Romance! by Cachette for Cap Iron Man Community (Ambiguous, art)

Team trip to the zoo. Steve and Tony sneak off for some fun.

★ Bad Reputation by gottalovev for jayjayverse (MCU, 14337 words)

Obadiah Stane, CEO of Stark Industries since Howard’s son died before Steve even woke up, isn’t happy that the Avengers haven’t caught the villain Iron Man yet. The mysterious man in the armor keeps destroying SI weapons, and even though they tried to arrest him, he always slips through the Avengers’ fingers. It doesn’t help that Steve enjoys their bantering a bit too much, and that he’s starting to think that Iron Man has a worthy cause.

★ Count to Ten by Ironlawyer for msermesth (Ultimate, 1026 words)

Tony gets what he wants, but not what he wants

★ Good Morning Beloved by zappedbysnow for meatball42 (616, art)

Tony is off to train the youngsters after breakfast.

★ The Hoodie of Blasphemy by Meatball42 for Cachette (MCU, 3355 words)

The Avengers team gets closer, and so do Steve and Tony. If only Tony could figure out why Steve's sweaters smell so good...

★ I Got You by ToneeStark for navaan (MCU, 7350 words)

For Navaan. HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!! I hope you like it! Please check chapter 4 for artwork that goes along with the work. <3

★ Jingle Bell Rock by somalester for 1electricpirate (MCU, 6141 words)

Prompt: "Tony finds out Steve also doesn't like Christmas & instead invites him to spend Grinchmas together. Just the two of them in a ski lodge / cabin somewhere in the snowy backwoods. It turns out they are both much more full of the christmas spirit than they thought."

★ Kiss Me, Baby, It's Christmas Time by Shadowolf19 for inukagome15 (616, 2126 words)

“Okay, well, merry Christmas…” he wishes to his lab, deciding he’s allowed to feel sorry for himself right now, he’s like a fallen resistance leader or something along those lines who used to be surrounded by people who enjoyed his company, but who now spends his days alone trying to understand when it all went wrong.

★ Bad by One and Five Nines for Cap Iron Man Community (Ambiguous, art)

Fill for the prompt: Superior Iron Man and Hydra Cap, together at last

★ Charity Auctions and Scheming Boyfriends by laireshi for Cap Iron Man Community (616, 1165 words)

Steve wins a date with Tony at an auction. It goes very differently than he expected.

★ Fool Me Once by laireshi for Cap Iron Man Community (616, 1005 words)

Hydra Cap escapes and goes after Tony.

★ He sees you, Steve, he's wearing glasses by Cachette for Cap Iron Man Community (Ambiguous, art)

Steve finds himself constantly distracted by the sight of Tony in glasses, and the others are definitely noticing. Thank goodness Tony hasn't. Yet.

★ Heart on My Sleeve by runningondreams for Cap Iron Man Community (Marvel Adventures, 1943 words)

Tony wears Steve’s clothes. Steve has no problem with this.

★ Off the Record by runningondreams for Cap Iron Man Community (616, 1455 words)

Steve can't sleep, and when he can't sleep, he broods. After too many nights of restless dreams and nightmares, he hopes Tony can be the distraction he needs.

★ Willed Engagements by DepressingGreenie for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 1846 words)

When Steve wakes in the 21st century he finds out that Howard had left him his son in his will... as his bondmate.

★ Crimson Kringle by SmileAndASong for zappedbysnow (Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), 4688 words)

Steve is ecstatic when he draws Tony's name for the team Secret Santa. He hopes that with the perfect gift, he'll finally be able to take their relationship to the next level.

There's only one problem — the name he picked actually isn't Tony’s.

★ Keeping a Close Eye by magicasen for sheron (616, 3017 words)

Steve and Tony are avoiding each other. Carol takes it upon herself to find out why.

★ Once the Brain Fog Clears by Impala_Chick for Shaliara (MCU, 5945 words)

SHIELD HQ loses contact with their Arctic Base, and they ask Steve, Sam, and Nat to go recover their agents. But there is a monster lurking in the ice, and it knows Steve's weaknesses.

★ Skrull Steve by Hayluhalo for dirigibleplumbing (Any, art)

Tony is biased when it comes to Steve, even if it isn't really him.

★ Until the Smoke Clears by cathydeff for RawWriting (MCU, 2778 words)

Tony was born an omega, but Howard, in shame, turns him into a beta.

After the fight at Johannesburg with the Hulk, Bruce & Cho inject Tony with experimental nanites to save his life. It works, but he’s also physically 21, turned back into his original omega gender, and is now apparently Captain America’s scent mate.

Captain America, who’s never noticed that Tony was interested, and then some.

Fuck his life.

★ wrench in the works by MusicalLuna for morcabre (MCU, 1884 words)

Steve hadn't known how to court someone in 1939 and he sure as hell doesn't know how to do it in 2014. He's determined to try though.

★ Fun Overdue by DepressingGreenie for Cap Iron Man Community (616, 1050 words)

Tony seeks Steve out for some fun, as it so happens... Steve was in the library.

★ If You Lived Here, You'd Be Home Now by vorkosigan for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 12953 words)

"Hold that thought," Tony said into his phone. "I apparently just got hit by a hitchhiker."

"You hit a hitchhiker?" Happy sounded horrified.

"What? Am I talking to a wall? I got hit by a hitchhiker."

Having just broken up with Pepper, Tony is driving to California on Christmas Eve. When he picks up a hitchhiker, he hardly expects him to be the former Captain America, defrosted and on the run from SHIELD.

★ In Sickness and in Health by runningondreams for Cap Iron Man Community (Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), 1031 words)

If Steve has to physically sit on Tony to make him take a rest, he will. He just hopes it doesn’t come to that.

★ An Infinite Loop by laireshi for Cap Iron Man Community (616, 750 words)

"You and I were meant to be together, even if we weren't meant to be happy."

★ Red by One and Five Nines for Cap Iron Man Community (616, Art])

Fill for the prompt: RACK S/M! I would love this to be really vicious and have them both really into it.

★ Off to a Caffeinated Start by Lets_call_me_Lily for Cap Iron Man Community (616, art)

After however-many (too many) hours of being awake, Tony was forced out of his workshop and into bed. Now, our tousled genius needs to reboot his brain.

This situation calls for coffee, of course.

★ Try, Try Again by runningondreams for Cap Iron Man Community (Marvel Adventures, 1662 words)

Steve’s plans usually work out pretty well. This time, though? When all he really wants to do is ask Tony a very important question? Not so much.

★ unforgettable by gottalovev for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 5729 words)

It is pretty certain that even if Steve didn't have an eidetic memory, the images of Tony's sex tape would be seared into his mind anyway.

★ Apple Pie by marumo for Sadisticsparkle (Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), Comic)

Tony has acted suspiciously these days... Steve wonders what he is hiding.

★ between the gates by nasa for royal_chandler (AU, 9494 words)

“Have a lovely evening,” the flight attendant says, like nothing at all is wrong. And, really, nothing is - except for the fact Tony’s snowed in at an airport, sharing a room with the ex who broke his heart five years ago, who he was never able to get over. Totally great.

★ No It's Not Camping by brokenEisenglas for tony_starkrogers (MCU, 4043 words)

Steve and Tony go on a much needed Christmas vacation. They may just be getting more in their stockings than they had originally thought.

★ return ticket by adarksweetness for Impala_Chick (MCU, 2328 words)

Tony is alone when the apocalypse occurs. Steve finds his way back home.

★ Simple Truths by sheron for littleblackbow (616, 2863 words)

When Steve tells him about the romance novel he borrowed from Jan, Tony realizes his own feelings for Steve would fit perfectly in a book like that. Of course, Steve must never know.

★ Won't You Say Love by ishipallthings for vextant (MCU, 9969 words)

Steve's ready to tell Tony he wants to be more than friends. But after they're interrupted by a surprise attack that ends with Tony in the hospital, their relationship spirals out of control - especially when Tony starts avoiding Steve, who has no idea how to fix things between them.

★ Black and Blue by runningondreams for Cap Iron Man Community (616, 860 words)

Tony is injured on Avenger’s business. Steve helps care for his wounds.

★ Dispel by laireshi and faite for Cap Iron Man Community (616, 3925 Words + Art)

Steve is hit with a love spell, but he doesn't want it undone: he loves Tony and he's never been happier.

★ Eventually by One and Five Nines for Cap Iron Man Community (Ultimate, Comic)

Fill for the prompt: Post-apocalyptic slavefic au

Tony is godking of the wasteland. Steve is not.

PLEASE MIND ALL THE TAGS AND WARNINGS

★ Hidden Lives by DepressingGreenie for Cap Iron Man Community (AU, 1606 words)

Being a secret superhero is hard, as is keeping that secret from your significant other.

★ Operation Infatuation by Meatball42 for Cap Iron Man Community (3490, 1752 words)

As the Avengers gossip bond as a team, Natasha Stark is forced to admit that she used to have a crush on Captain America as a teenager. Suddenly, it’s all a pining Steve can think about.

★ Under the Table by runningondreams for Cap Iron Man Community (616, 1191 words)

Tony's been thinking about Steve too much lately. It's time he did something about that.

★ A Warmth Like No Other by ishipallthings for Cap Iron Man Community (Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), 1992 words)

Tony invites Steve to make hot chocolate with him. Steve happily agrees, but then his mouth runs away with him.

★ When Your Best Isn't Enough by laireshi for Cap Iron Man Community (616/Avengers Assemble/Marvel Adventures, 1229 words)

616 Steve and Tony get sent to two different universes where their alternate selves are married.

616 Tony is sad: if only his Steve loved him too.

616 Steve is brooding: if only his Tony loved him too.

★ Birds of a Feather by DepressingGreenie for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 850 words)

Tony has noticed Steve behavior around him, and decides to act on it.

★ A Blanket Burrito by marumo for Cap Iron Man Community (Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), art)

Making a Tony Stark Burrito.

For 2018 Cap-IM Community Gift Prompts: Steve wraps up Tony with a blanket like burrito.

★ Collapse by laireshi for Cap Iron Man Community (616, 390 words)

Steve Rogers is standing in Tony’s living room in his Captain America uniform with the three bloody holes from the gunshots that killed him.

★ Half-Truths by laireshi for Cap Iron Man Community (616, 1258 words)

Tony should've known the real Steve Rogers could never love him.

★ No, Steve! by DepressingGreenie for Cap Iron Man Community (Ambiguous, art)

Tony is sick of Steve's overly reckless heroic antics.

★ Of Theme Parks and Impersonators by SmileAndASong for Cap Iron Man Community (AvAc, 2082 words)

Tony can't stop staring at the Captain America performer during his and Steve's Disneyland vacation.

★ Of Things Lost in Time by erde for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 16090 words)

The Time Stone beckons Steve with the promise of home. He ends up in Clint's farm, reliving the same day again and again.

★ The Pawfect Gift by DepressingGreenie for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 899 words)

This was not going how Tony planned it to go. Steve should've loved his gift, what went wrong?

★ Safewords by cptxrogers for Cap Iron Man Community (616, 3109 words)

Five times Steve and Tony joked about safewords and one time they didn’t.

★ Tales of The Golden Avenger: Return of the Red Skull by runningondreams for Cap Iron Man Community (616 Star Wars AU, 10932 words)

It’s been over a year since Tony left the Rebel Alliance to travel the stars with only Rhodey and his AI for company, but when the Wasp calls in a favor, he feels bound to answer. Even though there’s an active bounty on his head. Even though the last time he confronted a real, Force-empowered Sith he lost his right hand. He can deal with all of that.

Except Jan failed to mention that the mission involved Steve.

★ Truth Be Told by heartsandmuses for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 6478 words)

Tony didn’t believe in signs. He did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, regardless of whether or not the universe seemed to approve. Which was a good thing, really, because if he didbelieve in signs, there would be no doubt in his mind that fate or the cosmos or whatever cruel, eldritch god was ruling his life absolutely did not want him to propose to Steve.

No matter what Tony planned, something, somehow, always seemed to get in his way. Either it was an Avengers alert (which happened about two weeks ago), or a sudden downpour over midtown Manhattan (one week ago), or Steve suddenly being de-serumed (four days ago), or, well—

“A truth serum.”

(Right now.)

★ Upon a Midnight Clear by runningondreams for Cap Iron Man Community (1872, 562 words)

The little town of Timely enjoys a quiet Christmas Eve.

★ We’ve Got a Mystery to Solve, So Be Ready For Your Act by Meatball42 for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 3185 words)

The Mystery Inc. gang gets their biggest client yet. Will the team manage to solve the mystery, make a match or two, and secure a tax-qualified, defined-contribution pension account? Or will the various chemicals they've imbibed produce only chaos?

★ Younger by One and Five Nines for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, art)

Fill for the prompt: not long after Tony left the Avengers, the team is attacked and turned into kids... all except Steve. Steve is good with kids... but he is only one guy, super soldier serum be damned. He calls Tony for help.

Be sure to comment on the works you liked! Were your guesses right? Are you surprised at something? You can post your reactions to the guessing post! And finally, if you participated in the event, feel free to post your work wherever you want now! We will be reblogging every tumblr post tagged with #capimexchange in one of the first five tags. Thank you for a great event, 2018 Holiday Exchange and Community Gifts mods

#stevetony #stony #superhusbands #capimexchange2018 #capimevents #capimexchange #masterlist

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kiruuuuu · 6 years ago

Text

Thatcher/Lesion in which they go on vacation together and manage to confront a few things. Mostly each other. (Rating E, fluff, kinda explicit, emotional hurt/comfort, ~7.3k words) - dedicated to both @glazkov-smile and @magehir because the former put this ship into my head and the latter encouraged me 💕 I didn’t mean for it to become this long but here we are and oh look I’m stuck what a surprise

It’s telling that Thatcher doesn’t even remember what it’s like back home, finds no memories with which to compare his current situation for there is no space for anything other than the deep and profound calm filling him completely. He watches the tea leaves unfurl gently, soaking up the hot water while simultaneously dyeing it, breathes in the cool, clear morning air and listens. A soft breeze rustles leaves, birds sing – no cars audible or even anywhere in sight, only the pleasant rise and fall of the mountains and valleys surrounding him. Though his mind knows it not to be true, he’s always been here in his heart, far from people and stress and obligations, free from his duties, allowed to just be himself. He’s content.

Something shifts behind him, fabric drags over fabric and a blissful sigh lets him know that his companion is far from ready to begin this new day. Thatcher is almost tempted to let him sleep a bit longer, glance at the peaceful face now and then while he enjoys his tea and just wait until brown eyes blink at him sleepily. But they’re not on vacation to laze around, so instead he reaches out into the tiny tent behind him and scratches where he suspects Lesion’s feet to be inside his sleeping bag. An indignant yelp followed by flailing violent enough to threaten the tent’s stability lets him know he indeed hit exactly the right spot and so he leaves it at that, worried about the cup in his other hand, and goes back to admiring the beautiful scenery before him.

When Lesion emerges, he’s squinting at the brightness of the early summer sun and gratefully accepts the mug Thatcher hands him with a mumbled something. It takes several sips for him to perk up enough so Thatcher can consider initiating a conversation.

“Slept better this night?”, he wants to know curiously though the drawn-out yawn is almost answer enough.

“Not really. At least I’ve gotten used to it being this stupidly quiet”, Lesion replies with a self-deprecating smile. To Thatcher, sleeping while being surrounded by noise was something he had to train himself to do whereas Lesion is largely unfamiliar with total silence. “At this point I can only guess why I can’t sleep.”

“What’s your best guess then? Anything I can do to help?”

For some reason, this earns him a side glance and no more than a dismissive shrug. Maybe it’s nightmares and he’d rather not talk about them when it’s obvious how much Thatcher is enjoying this escape from everyday life. There are pillow creases on Lesion’s cheek and more down his arm, indents telling of his regularly interrupted and yet deep sleep. Together with his wild hair, the peculiarly patterned t-shirt and naked legs, he looks young and almost adorable, though Thatcher would rather saw off his own foot than admit this out loud.

“What’s for breakfast? I swear if it’s anything with fish again, I’m going to chuck it into the nearest gorge.”

This finally drags Lesion out of his morning funk and prompts a soft laugh in between gulps of green tea. “You’ve definitely come to the wrong place then, Norway is quite well-known for its excellent fish and not-so known for its deep gorges.”

“I came here to hike, camp and do both without too much human contact, not to turn into a seagull.”

“What does that make me then?”

“You don’t count as human contact”, Thatcher waves his question aside, well aware of how disparaging his comment could sound but confident Lesion will take it the right way. “You’ve seen me at various high and low points in my life and you’ve still stuck around.”

“I have, haven’t I”, Lesion murmurs more to himself than in response, smiling into his tea.

“Clearly because of my sunny personality.” When his friend chokes on the liquid, Thatcher doesn’t know whether to be offended or pleased.

They’ve been travelling for a week by now and are scheduled to return in a few days; a date towards which Thatcher looks with trepidation. He hasn’t felt this peaceful in years, not even during other vacations, and long accepted the low, insistent buzzing at the back of his skull as an inevitable side effect of his work – switching off is something at which he’s never been good and it’s always affected his relationships, even friendships. Maybe he’s getting old or careless, who knows, yet this time around he’s finally thoroughly enjoying himself. It took him three days to realise and funnily enough he’d literally stopped to smell some flowers at Lesion’s indication when it hit him: the need to justify this waste of time to himself was gone. His heartbeat didn’t spike when he thought about some of the things he’d have to do once they return. He didn’t urge them to move on if they lingered.

Lesion’s laid-back attitude seems to be contagious and though it spared Thatcher’s rigid sleep schedule, it allowed him to properly marvel at Norway’s breathtaking natural beauty and not despair over the lack of any reliable transportation, instead trusting Lesion that hitchhiking will get them to their small handful of destinations in their own time. They’ve picked up some Norwegian on the way, communicated with grand gestures when no common language was found and joked around with whoever was friendly enough to give them a ride. Thatcher even begrudgingly admits that his international phone plan comes in handy whenever his old and tattered map proves unreliable – he bought it for a planned holiday twenty years ago but it ended up never happening due to his partner at the time coming down with an acute case of lying, cheating and stealing.

Nostalgia is a powerful yet dangerous thing and so Thatcher mostly focuses on the present. Everything else would’ve been unfair to Lesion anyway.

Contrary to Thatcher’s underlying worries, the day plays out perfectly and couldn’t go any better than it does. They pack up after breakfast, careful not to leave anything behind, and hike for an hour to reconnect with the nearest street where they almost immediately get picked up and taken to a town close to the next sight they’re planning to explore. They stock up on supplies, causing a slight commotion in the store when Lesion repeatedly tries to smuggle herring salad into their basket with Thatcher objecting more and more emphatically. They really must look like tourists, Lesion especially with his cargo shorts and frankly embarrassing sun hat – and Thatcher thanks whichever deity is responsible for common sense for stopping his companion from bringing a selfie-stick.

The hike up the mountain isn’t as bad as some others they’ve mastered previously and doesn’t even begin to compare to some of their training exercises, so Thatcher takes a gleeful pride in passing by resting younger couples or families while hardly out of breath and matching Lesion’s unmerciful tempo effortlessly. The only time they stop is to pick some wild blueberries and argue about what to eat for dinner.

“Okay”, says Lesion once they’ve arrived at the entrance of the first cave, “why are we here again?”

Thatcher wants to both laugh and sigh simultaneously and ends up scoffing instead. “You really don’t remember? I told you this morning.”

“See, there’s your mistake – it was morning.”

“How do you normally go on vacations? Do you just wander around until a random flight accidentally lets you on and you’ve just always been lucky to bring the right clothes so far?”

A wide grin is his reply. “Tell me, Mike. What are we here to see?”

It probably should vex him that Lesion doesn’t seem to share his enthusiasm for scenic spots but as he always finds something meaningful to say about them and never complains, Thatcher has to admit he doesn’t mind doing most of the planning. And so he talks about the Trollkirka or troll church which isn’t a church at all but rather a marble cavern with a waterfall, and how they’re about to explore the three limestone grottos around it.

“Sounds better than your idea for improvised fishing the other day. Do we need flashlights?”

Thatcher pauses, recalls the descriptions he’s read for the caves and grimaces. “Are you telling me you haven’t developed the ability to see in the dark over the years?”

“I’ve got a phone. Let’s go.”

The lack of daylight turns out to be not the only obstacle they’re facing: there’s a shallow underground stream happily gurgling past their feet and covering the entire width of the floor. It adds a lot to the atmosphere, that much is true – for the short moment during which Lesion experimentally switches off his phone’s light, it really is utterly dark, yet the calming echo of the water turns what might’ve been menacing otherwise into something soothing instead.

Even so. Lesion’s casual shoes aren’t waterproof.

They’re both hunched over right now as the ceiling isn’t high enough to accommodate them and while Thatcher pays next to no attention to where he treads, Lesion carefully steps from stone to stone, choosing more elevated parts in order to save his socks from getting soaked. He looks almost like a very ungraceful and vaguely irritated bird and Thatcher only barely manages not to comment on his stilted walking.

“From what I’ve seen it’s worth the hassle at least”, he tries to cheer his companion up and earns a pained grin visible in the unsteady, cold light of his phone.

“I believe you, trust me, I’m not complaining – look, I like getting wet, just not like this.”

Thatcher snorts and is about to respond when Lesion hits his head on a particularly low part of the ceiling with a yelp, causing him to drop his device right into the clear water. Once again, the light source dies and leaves them in pitch black, only this time it’s accompanied by a lot of cursing from Lesion as well as the sound of frantic splashing while he searches for his phone by his feet.

“Fuck, okay, here it is, shit. Can you use yours so I can take a look at it?”

Even now, Lesion doesn’t sound annoyed, merely exasperated, and Thatcher decides to buy him a few drinks once they’re back in civilisation. A quick pat down his own trousers assures him that yes, while he does have his own smartphone in his front pocket, he’s going to have a hard time getting it out with the way he’s bending over, stretching the fabric and restricting access to his pockets. “I can try but it’s hard to get, I don’t want to do the same thing you just did.”

For a second, all Thatcher hears is the rippling water, his own fingernails scratching over his jeans in their attempt to dive into his pocket and blood rushing in his ears. He can sense Lesion even if he can’t see him.

Eventually, there’s a quiet: “Let me try.”

There are footsteps now and they sound like their owner couldn’t care less about whether or not his socks end up drenched. Thatcher stretches out an arm for guidance, lets his hand meet Lesion’s and wander up his extended limb before resting it on his side once he’s close enough. They stand there, holding on to each other in the dark, and for some reason Thatcher’s lips are burning, itchy all of a sudden, he’s painfully aware of warm fabric under his palm and that’s when fingertips brush over his thigh.

He holds his breath. It’s suddenly imperative that he does even if he’s uncertain why, and then deft hands run over the edges of his phone, ticklish and tingling and he tries so hard to see anything, maybe make out Lesion’s expression by sheer force of will but all he gets in return is fingernails digging into skin and the feel of regular in- and exhales against his hand which refuses to move anywhere else.

Neither of them speak. The air is lovely and cool compared to the increasing summer heat outside but right now it’s both the same to Thatcher. Lesion makes a small noise of effort and moves, prompting Thatcher to finally drop his arm and twist a bit to make it easier for him. When he feels the device being slid out, he slowly breathes out and hopes the sound of the stream drowns it out.

It’s like flicking a switch. As soon as Thatcher turns the torch on, both of them snap back to what feels like reality even if he’s not sure what to call the previous darkness in comparison. The phone is just as soaked as Lesion’s socks and so they jokingly lament the loss of a good friend before moving on.

When they reach the waterfall, illuminated by bright rays falling in through the open ceiling and caught by a basin of light marble, Thatcher has shaken off any residues of the event, his mind is clear again and gone is the pounding in his chest. And even now, Lesion – shoes squelching and phone longing for a bag of rice – isn’t complaining.

The marvellous sight before him is oddly moving and so Thatcher hears himself say: “I’m glad we came here.” But he doesn’t only mean the waterfall, doesn’t only mean the cave.

“Me too”, Lesion replies and it sounds as if he’s referring to the same thing Thatcher is.

They play Xiangqi and drink brennevin.

Lesion almost immediately dives head first into tipsy territory as he hates the taste of it so much he downs half his glass in one go and then giggles at length over how international their set-up is: he’s in Norway with a Brit, playing Chinese chess and drinking Icelandic aquavit which he finds hilarious for no reason. Thatcher watches him fondly and utterly destroys him at the game several times in a row, not even hiding the fact he enjoys his wins seeing as Lesion usually outplays him effortlessly. They’re using a small magnetic set Lesion gifted him after their first meeting, intent on playing against him one day. Thatcher learned the rules and practised with whoever proved good enough, then they started playing via messages, informing each other of their day so far as well as the move they chose to make – a fact which somehow amused Mute to no end when he heard of it.

Setting up camp has gotten easier and easier as the week progressed, now they’re a well-oiled machine, the brennevin at the end the only deviation from their usual routine tonight. Stretched out on their sleeping bags in front of the tent, they make up more and more ridiculous toasts in between moving their pieces on the board and watching as the sun slowly sets, painting the clouds in beautiful pink and purple. Alcohol loosens their tongues and makes them forget they’re so high up that they could have a snowball fight within walking distance of their small tent.

“You keep saying drinking makes me sentimental and I keep denying it, but you know what? I think you’re right”, Lesion declares out of the blue and rolls around a bit to stretch and yawn. The hem of his shirt rides up, briefly flashes unnatural colours and dark ink on his lower back.

Thatcher’s gaze lingers until he realises he can’t set up the board without looking, and so he diverts his attention again. “Why, what are you thinking of?”

“Just that I’m glad to be here. I like it.” A warm smile is directed at him which does more than all the aquavit he’s had so far. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Thanks for coming along.” Both of them remember how easy it had been: Thatcher mentioning Norway, Lesion showing interest, Thatcher suggesting they go together, Lesion accepting. Less than a minute, really, and he almost expected nothing to come out of it with which he’d been fine as he thought the knowledge that Lesion would accompany him is enough. Now he knows he would’ve been wrong, all of this is so much better.

“You usually go on vacations alone, don’t you?”, Lesion wants to know, curious, and makes no move to start yet another game, so Thatcher doesn’t remind him for now.

“I do, yes. I’ve travelled with a few people in the past but it often didn’t go well.”

“How come?”

He shrugs, unconcerned, but his friend is interested now, has propped his head up and is watching him intently. The twilight blurs a few details, softens his image and sharpens it only when Thatcher doesn’t return his gaze directly. So he doesn’t. “Didn’t work out. Many reasons, really. Conflict of interests more often than not. Lost sight of a lot of them afterwards, to be honest.” At this point, he’s confusing their current topic with something entirely unrelated – Lesion did ask about his travels, not about his ex-partners, right? How can he even mix these up?

“You’re not talking to any of them anymore?”

Huh, maybe they are talking of his past relationships after all because that’s what it sounds like. His mouth has developed a mind of its own, readily answering where his brain goes wait a second. “Not really, no. With most of them, it’s over after a year. I’m terrible at keeping in touch with people.”

Lesion looks at him. His expression is unreadable but Thatcher feels like he’s missing something important, misinterpreting something, skidding on ice where he thought he’d be fine but how can he avoid obstacles when he keep failing to identify them?

“I keep wondering what they’re up to these days, some of them were lovely. Maybe I could’ve ended up with one of them if I’d put a little more effort in.” He’s babbling and paying very little attention to his own words which seems to uphold a balance – because it turns out Lesion is indeed taking note very attentively.

“Probably not”, he states calmly. “Not with your horrible commitment issues.”

At first, Thatcher thinks he misheard. And when it finally sinks in that no, not his slightly foggy brain came up with that remark but rather the person before him, the man who so casually opens another match of Xiangqi as if he didn’t just say … well, that – when he realises, Thatcher is furious. “What?”, he barks, incredulous and reeling.

Lesion pretends nothing is wrong and simply produces a small, questioning hm? while even going so far as to meet his eyes in pretend innocence.

“I don’t fucking have – are you serious?” Lesion nods silently as if Thatcher had just asked him whether he was hungry. “That’s bloody ridiculous and you know it is. I’ve been in the regiment for almost my entire life, Tze Long, don’t you think that counts for something? What, you think I didn’t have a choice? I chose to make it my life and if that isn’t commitment then I don’t know what is. Maybe I just have different priorities than most people, but the fact that I can fucking exist without needing another person to tie my shoes does not imply -”

The longer he rants, the more stoic Lesion’s expression becomes. With every sentence he spits at him, dismantles the offensive and unkind comment, Lesion distances himself, avoids eye contact, looks around, takes a sip of clear liquor, inspects the long-forgotten chess board between them. His behaviour only fuels Thatcher’s indignation and though he can’t shake the feeling of somehow being out of line, overreacting maybe, he’s genuinely hurt.

Even so, his heart races and his adrenalin is spiking – his fight or flight response is kicking in and he has to wade through the mud of subconscious urging to just get up and run to arrive at every next sentence he spews out. Eventually, he realises he’s been going off for entirely too long and snaps his mouth shut. He abruptly understands that he’s afraid, but of what?

Lesion stops fiddling with the zip on his sleeping bag and looks up. Strangely, there’s disappointment lining his features along with steely resolve. “Are you done?” When Thatcher confirms with a nod, he adds, softer: “Kiss me.”

Thatcher’s head is swimming. He feels unnaturally warm. “No”, he replies.

“Coward.” It’s said in the same gentle, unfitting tone. Almost as if he expected it. Neither of them are moving.

“I don’t want to kiss you”, Thatcher explains very rationally, as he thinks, “I don’t – why would I want to kiss you?”

“A coward and a liar.”

He carefully avoids thinking about it too much. They’re both drunk so it’s not even worth any deliberations, not worth his time, maybe it’s a joke or Lesion really is feeling unnaturally sentimental – whatever it is, he’d best stop their weird conversation right here. Lesion’s presence is suffocating so switching topics is not a viable option, however, and thus Thatcher physically distances himself from him, grabs the bottle, gets up, turns away. “I’m going for a walk”, he grits out and doesn’t look back as he leaves, swaying a little.

Hopefully the odd mood will have dissipated once they’ve slept over it but spending the night next to his friend somehow feels impossible right then.

Walking around on hard snow, hearing and feeling it crunch under his hiking boots while knowing it’s summer and he’ll have to face over 30°C again the next day is vaguely surreal. The snow field a few hundred metres away from their tent glows in a dark blue, the crystals reflecting the dying light of the sun and creating a strangely bright canvas. In most places, it has melted and re-frozen into a solid mass but there are some where it’s still malleable and allows for Thatcher to sink in one or two centimetres. He considers pissing his name into it but discards the idea as too juvenile, though the thought of leaving behind something possibly for other hikers to find is tempting.

Besides, he’s desperate for anything which will take his mind off… everything, really.

It’s starting to get hard to see, he should return soon instead of stumbling about and taking swigs directly out of the bright green bottle, the colour vibrant even now against the white backdrop. Caraway lingers on his tongue, a taste he doesn’t even enjoy that much yet Lesion convinced him to purchase and try the Scandinavian distillate regardless. Maybe he could just write something, his footsteps are crassly visible and disturb the landscape anyway, but what? His own name would seem self-centric but he squats down still, intent on leaving a mark somehow.

The snow is biting against the skin of his fingertips, the cold radiating and surrounding his body uncomfortable but he continues scratching letters into the half-frozen surface, at some point putting the brennevin away so he can use both hands. It’s almost therapeutic, switches off his brain and reduces him to nothing but his simple task. Once he’s finished, he steps away to inspect it in full view.

Who dares wins, the snow tells him.

He’s shivering.

When was the last time he took a leap of faith? When did he last dare, really dare? Instead of risking nothing because he already knew the stakes, had done something similar a handful of times before, pretended it was a hard decision but his mind had been made up all along?

His fingers are still numb when he zips open the tent to crawl inside. Over here, it’s much warmer, even warmer encased in yellow canvas. Lesion has dragged both their sleeping bags inside already, wrapped himself in his and has his back turned to him, pretending to sleep or possibly asleep already, maybe just dozing or woken up by Thatcher’s return. It doesn’t matter.

Though his eyes have adapted to the increasing darkness, here he can’t make out more than rough shapes and fumbles a bit until he finds what he’s looking for. When he unzips the sleeping bag, Lesion stirs, rolls over in response to an insistent hand pulling him towards Thatcher and sighs groggily – he really might’ve been sleeping already, has Thatcher been gone that long?

He startles awake when icy cold fingers seek out his jaw and struggles against the gentle hold for a moment, about to protest or maybe ask something or merely make a noise of objection, but this too doesn’t matter. Because Thatcher seals his lips with his own.

It’s awkward, their noses bump together and one of Thatcher’s arms isn’t happy with his position, he has to crane his neck and keep body tension so he doesn’t fall on top of the other man yet when he feels Lesion melt against him, it’s all forgotten, easily trumped by soft lips moving and a hand clawing at him for purchase, a leg sliding over his own and he’s so warm, Lesion is stupidly warm and how was he able to overlook this fact the entire time.

One of them gasps for air, one of them groans and suddenly they’re intertwined, making out with no stopping in sight and grabbing at everything in reach. Lesion tastes of caraway, too, his tongue scalding hot in Thatcher’s mouth, courting his own, and for the first time Thatcher admits to himself what it does to him, what Lesion does to him, has done a few times in the past, when colourful swirls and a tiger filled his vision, when fingers worked away at his thigh, and now even more so with their mouths pressed together. It’s insistent, hurried and hopeful somehow, Thatcher feels it as well, contributes to the urgency.

He slips one of his hands under Lesion’s shirt, causing him to mewl and shy away from the coldness, in his attempt to escape scooting impossibly closer to Thatcher, and he decides he likes this, enjoys making him squirm. He strokes his fingers over Lesion’s back, half expecting to be able to feel his tattoo somehow and earning another surprised yelp and angry wiggling, a tight grip around his forearm convincing him to relent and not leech more warmth than he’s offered.

The tent barely offers enough room for them to lie next to each other without touching but more than enough for Thatcher to lie down on top of Lesion, cover him with his body while licking into his mouth and drinking in his quiet panting. Arms wrap around him readily, holding him tight and preventing escape should he be foolish enough to consider it. He isn’t, however. Not this time.

They’re pushing against each other now, aimless and uncoordinated, him bearing down on Lesion and he moving against Thatcher, enough to create a spark between them which catches on and kindles fire; a fire fuelled by feeling Lesion’s naked legs rubbing over his, the small noises he’s making without being aware, the way he follows Thatcher’s lead and tilts his head to deepen their kissing, equally loath to interrupt it as the Brit is.

The silence between them should be unnerving yet Thatcher doesn’t care, communicates without words and pulls on Lesion’s underwear to convey what he wants. To take them off, Lesion breaks the kiss and Thatcher immediately moves his lips to another spot as if he’d lose years of his life for every second they’re not connected to any part of Lesion. He sucks his way down his neck and earns gasps in return which he decides he likes a lot also. Even so, the way Lesion jumps when Thatcher’s hand brushes over his naked hip makes it clear he’s not going to do much touching any time soon.

Mutely, Lesion makes him understand to flip them over and perches on top of him once he has reversed their positions. He’s in a much better spot to take care of them now, yet instead of opening Thatcher’s trousers, he spits into hand and reaches behind him and suddenly Thatcher can feel his own heartbeat in his teeth. Very nearly he lets out a curse but miraculously catches himself in the last second, listening intently to Lesion’s heavy breaths, every hitch, soft exhale, sharp inhale. Fierce need is pulsing through him, clouding his mind and occupying his thoughts. Distractedly, he unbuttons his jeans, careful not to touch any part of Lesion in the process, and frees stiff flesh looking for contact.

When Lesion leans down as if to avoid eye contact – which is impossible to establish in the blackness of the night anyway –, Thatcher claims his mouth once again, swallows all the quiet noises and allows his palms to run over Lesion’s torso, above the fabric to avoid more wincing. Even now when it’s clear what they’re about to do, they don’t slow down, don’t stop to indulge themselves or each other. Lesion deems himself ready much too soon and only briefly wraps slick fingers around Thatcher before moving his hips up, hovering for no more than a second before sinking down. His groan is tinted with pain but he doesn’t let that stop him and so Thatcher doesn’t interfere; partly also because he’s suddenly encased in tight heat which feels so incredibly good that he’s got trouble not thrusting deeper straightaway.

His hands are restlessly roaming, eager to explore all now that they’re allowed to and end up on Lesion’s thighs, massaging the burning skin and guiding his first tentative movements which quickly turn more fluid and come faster. It’s almost desperate but Thatcher refrains from slowing him down, too caught up in the moment to try and make it last. He wants this so badly he soon starts thrusting up, meeting Lesion’s hips with his own and wrenching sounds from his throat in the process. It turns out he’s surprisingly loud which is a whole other turn-on because it’s not for Thatcher’s benefit, not even for his own – it sounds involuntary and broken and cut-off, almost distressed, and Thatcher can’t get enough.

Even though Lesion is on top, Thatcher seizes all control and takes over, decides how to move and endeavours to coax more moans out of him by overwhelming him with stimulation: he nibbles at the nape of his neck, licks over his ear’s outer shell and sucks on his jaw. He feels out his back muscles and ribs and nipples and hipbones and caresses them all, catching him in an embrace repeatedly and making them move in unison. Every whine and whimper he harvests, uttered directly into his ear, makes it harder to breathe.

When he deems his hands warm enough, he reaches between their bodies, between Lesion’s legs, and grabs the hard, hot member to skilfully massage more moans out of Lesion: despairing, pitiful noises only rising in volume when he experiments a bit and increases the speed, adapting to Lesion’s more and more frantic motions as if he was scared of Thatcher stopping any second. He doesn’t, though, doesn’t let up, merely tightens his hold, increases the intensity and brings both of them closer and closer to the edge.

They come simultaneously by pure coincidence, Thatcher arching up and burying his face against Lesion’s shoulder while he pants in disbelief over how fucking good it feels, Lesion trembling above him and wrapping his own hand around Thatcher’s to show him how he likes it. They shudder while they gently ride it out, fingers digging into skin, teeth clenched, lower half throbbing in vicious relief, and only stop moving once the tension holding their bodies taut has subsided. Lesion pulls him out but doesn’t climb down which is fine with Thatcher, prompting him to disregard all concerns for cleanliness and embrace him, turn them on their sides and leave them pressed together.

Their breathing normalises over time and Lesion crawls into his open sleeping bag, dragging Thatcher with him, and yawns once they’ve interlaced their limbs. The alcohol probably plays a part in it but Thatcher is also thoroughly exhausted, muscles sore from all the walking and now this as well, adrenaline worn off, panic not yet setting in. The proximity of the smaller body encased in his arms shouldn’t be this soothing, and yet it is.

They fall asleep in each other’s arms, never having said a word after Thatcher came back. They just hold on like they’re each other’s lifeline.

It’s going to be a gloomy day. Thatcher can tell even before he opens his eyes.

Where he’s been waking up to bright sunshine for an entire week, blinding even through the tent’s fabric and his closed eyelids, now it’s subdued and inhibited, hardly strong enough to help him shake off the remnants of deep yet unrestful sleep. This is the second issue: he’s had too much to drink the night before and long passed the days when he could booze much and suffer little. His head is pounding… and so is his heart. Because there’s something else too. A mistake, his brain provides a little too eagerly and convinces him once more that he’s being chased, hunted, threatened, tortured – that he needs to flee or strike back or lash out preemptively.

Refusing to give in to these urges is remarkably difficult. Much more difficult than giving in to his urges the way he did the previous night, oddly enough, and isn’t that an interesting topic to bring up with his therapist.

He’s alone, which is a small comfort but a comfort nonetheless, he’d have recoiled violently had he woken up next to a warm body. His hungover, sleep-drunk mind is not a kind place. As he’s still clothed, he simply closes his trousers and ventures out into the world of eating or being eaten. And feels his composure crack when he catches sight of Lesion.

He looks terrible.

Not even after most missions in the past did he look this fatalistic, this crushed; he can’t have gotten a lick of sleep and is piteously wrapped in some of his spare clothes. The air is unusually cool today, the sun hidden behind thick layers of clouds and the night not showing any mercy for lost, regretting men. He’s not looking over but the hand with which he holds his mug starts shaking, so he rests it on the ground and blinks at it a little too often.

Thatcher’s chest seizes with guilt and confusion – there’s no doubt he did this, he’s the reason, but he doesn’t understand. How can Lesion know what Thatcher’s brain is telling him to do? How can he know just how big of a coward Thatcher really is? How did he know he was lying?

Unsure of what to say, he looks around and spots the bottle he left behind somewhere else yesterday, turns to the snow field and finds a large Chinese character next to where he assumes he carved his own message. Unlike his, it’s dark and perfectly visible, probably laid out with gravel and thus likely to remain considerably longer as well as garner more attention.

“What does the symbol stand for?”, he asks. It looks familiar but he can’t recall where he’s seen it before.

Lesion doesn’t raise his gaze. “Good fortune”, he answers quietly and his voice breaks on the second word. He’s a wreck and Thatcher doesn’t know how to remedy it.

No. That’s a lie. He just doesn’t want to.

But is that really the truth? Or is he -

They seem to fare better when they’re not looking at each other, so he sits down behind Lesion, pulls him against his chest and when he’s met with resistance, he only pulls harder. Once he can cradle him, he notices the slight shivering and whispers a reassuring shhh, repeats it while kissing his temple, while wrapping himself around him as much as he can, while gently wiping moisture away. It’s not much, Lesion isn’t allowing himself to give in completely, but it unambiguously shows Thatcher how worryingly blind he was, how wilfully ignorant. He knew, must’ve known about Lesion, but thought that staying by his side would be enough for the both of them. But it’s not. It never was. In quiet nights alone, it wasn’t, and it wasn’t when he knew Lesion was crashing on his sofa, and it wasn’t throughout the entire last week. He never – never did anything, doesn’t know whether Lesion has. For him it was no more than a restless scratching at the back of his skull.

It’s a long while until Lesion stops trembling, noticeably uncomfortable with this fact but Thatcher doesn’t comment on it, merely holds him close and peppers his hair with kisses. He smells good, despite all, he smells familiar and safe and it calms Thatcher’s racing heart a little.

“I don’t know what to do”, Lesion murmurs and finally rests his head against Thatcher’s shoulder, eyes closed. Thatcher wants to kiss him, hug him tighter, do something but isn’t certain what.

“I don’t either”, he replies, at a loss. “But I don’t think I’m going to say or do what you think I will.”

“Are you sure?”

No, he’s not sure. He has absolutely no idea what he’s doing and this time he can’t blame any alcohol for the almost aggressive emptiness in his mind. “I’ll try”, he offers because while he can’t provide certainty, he can provide this much. Their eyes meet and all his confidence vanishes in an instant, leaves him speechless and frantically searching for more to say because surely, it’s not enough, won’t be enough -

“Okay”, Lesion interrupts his thoughts. “Let’s eat and pack up then.”

And as he pulls away, rises to his feet to squat down a distance away, rummaging in their large backpacks, Thatcher recognises the tone of his voice as defeat. He doesn’t believe Thatcher’s words, doesn’t trust the half-hearted promise one bit and he’s right not to; his repressed grief shows on his face and his movements are aimless, sluggish, at some point he even halts and stares blankly at nothing. It’s not even that he isn’t expecting anything. He’s expecting to receive nothing.

His sun-kissed skin looks warm even from a distance and it’s an impossible task for Thatcher’s mind to link the person before him with the one he kissed the previous evening – he’d embraced him, touched him everywhere he could reach, heard him moan. Made him moan. It’s the same man. The same man with whom he stayed in regular contact for years no matter what, whose necessary silence from time to time felt punishing and whose jubilant messages always brightened his day.

Maybe this will be easier than he feared. He’s in Thatcher’s heart already, he doesn’t even need to let him in deliberately.

“Tze Long”, he says and has no clue how to continue, only knows he needs to get rid of that expression on his face. Fortunately for him, his friend doesn’t turn to him, merely pauses. “Look, I know I’m a shithead and you know it too, and sometimes I don’t think things through or overthink them, and you know me well enough to call me on my bullshite. And I respect that. So do it now.”

Lesion shakes his head, confused, meeting his gaze with a frown. “What do you mean?”

“Call me on it. Tell me no, you’re not convinced I’ll make any sort of effort. Tell me that you think I’ll keep you at arm’s length still, just like I have all this time. Tell me that you don’t expect anything to change, for me to conveniently forget about it all. You’re thinking it, so say it.”

His lips part. He struggles to come up with an answer, eventually wants to know: “Why?”

This is the scary part. Thatcher isn’t proud to admit it but he’s terrified of this, of their entire conversation, of having to deal with any of it. Their friendship was safe and familiar, they’d established a routine and beyond that routine lies chaos, uncertainty, uncharted land. But he dares to step into it. “How else do I get the chance to get upset, deny everything, run away, mull over what you said in private and without telling anyone, then begrudgingly and in a subclause mention that you’re right and set about changing it while pretending it was my idea all along?”

And that does it. Lesion’s stony expression softens, a small smile stealing onto his lips. He’s ready to listen. “You’d change it, would you?”, he asks just to be sure and Thatcher really can’t blame him.

“I would, yes. Because I’d know it’s worth it.” You’re worth it, a voice in his head supplies but isn’t strong enough to make it out of his mouth.

“How about we skip the whole beginning then? Seems a little redundant now.”

“You’re right, yes, let’s. The whole… self-awareness thing probably lessens the effect.”

“It does. So – you don’t actually need any of my input?”

“Well, it’ll definitely be helpful on some issues, I suppose.”

Lesion laughs and though it’s awkward, the sound lifts a weight off Thatcher’s chest. “Good Lord, you’re terrible at this.”

“Listen”, he starts to defend himself sheepishly, “I normally make a point of keeping friends and partners separate.”

“That actually explains a lot.” The backpack, previously half on Lesion’s lap, now lies forgotten next to him and it’s as if their surroundings don’t matter anymore – the bleak sky doesn’t, the cold blinding snow field doesn’t, the mountains don’t. Thatcher erroneously believed that it was Norway itself which provided peace of mind, a place he’d been meaning to visit for decades now but never got around to it, thought that this finally fulfilled wish granted him one of the happiest weeks of his life. Yet he could’ve gone to the Antarctic and possibly felt the same calm – provided he had Lesion by his side.

“Can I ask for a show of good faith?”, his friend requests quietly and adds, when he’s sure he has Thatcher’s attention: “Kiss me.”

He’d lie if he claimed he showed no hesitation, but he overcomes it. Crawling towards the other man, he doesn’t stop once he’s reached him, uses his leverage to push him down into the grass, follows suit and takes the time to mirror his smile. Last night they were in a similar position, Thatcher hovering above him, yet now it’s intentional, eyes locked, in full daylight, thoughts sober. He still wants to run, the urge hasn’t disappeared and neither has his discomfort over leaving himself figuratively naked. But it’s easier to resist now.

They kiss for a long time and it gets less strange with every passing second, morphs from awkward to nice and though it hasn’t yet reached lovely, it’s almost there. Thatcher will have to get used to it, used to all this, re-learn a few things, dust some of it off in his mind and unearth old rituals, bury certain habits. It’ll take time. And fortunately, Lesion is nothing if not patient.

When they break apart, they’re not out of breath, their hearts aren’t racing, there’s no insistent need for more and ever more. Instead, they’ve replaced the sun which so tragically abandoned them this morning by beaming at each other.

“Looks like I have to take back the ‘coward’ ”, Lesion states ambiguously.

“No, the coward was warranted. The liar, too.” Another quick peck. Something tells Thatcher that he’s going to get used to this much quicker than he might expect. “Hopefully you’ll sleep better from now on.”

Lesion doesn’t even seem surprised that Thatcher was aware of the real reason for his restless tossing and turning and merely nods. “Yes. I think we both will.”

#rainbow six siege #thatcher #lesion #thatcher/lesion #fanfic #oneshot #though it's technically set after the tattoo one #also lesion tells him at some point #I lost my socks and my phone #I couldn't stand it if I lost another precious thing #he's the real mvp in this

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stereksecretsanta · 6 years ago

Text

Merry Christmas, @everchanginginks!

AN: My very first Sterek fic and my first published proper fanfic in like four years! Very exciting. This is a Sterek Secret Santa 2k18 gift for the incomparable everchanginginks, so I hope I have done everything she could ever want in this.

Within: Fluff, There Was Only One Bed, friends to lovers, and magic!Stiles, which is 4/5 of the prompts I was given! If I had 10k to work with I could have encompassed the fifth of enemies to lovers, but we do what we can. I'm already WELL OVER the 5k limit I am so sorry SSS it just happened like that orz

Read on AO3

******

Wędrowiec

Hey -SS

What -DH

What’s your address. The loft. -SS

Why do you need it -DH

Well I can’t just ask the postal service “hey what zip code are Derek Hale’s eyebrows” -SS

I mean I could but it wouldn’t get me anywhere -SS

Why do you need it -DH

I’m going to be in Michigan for Christmas so I can’t be there on the 25th to give you your present so I wanted to send it to you, if you must know -SS

You don’t have to get me anything -DH

Well you embarrassed me by getting me a way-too-nice present last year so yeah I actually kind of do. We have spending limits for a reason!!!!!!!!!!!!! -SS

That wasn’t a Christmas gift, and your laptop was nearing meltdown. We need you technologically capable to keep the packs safe and up to date. It was a necessity. It just happened to be around Christmas -DH

My Christmas gift was within the spending limits. That was the laptop case. -DH

Why are you going to Michigan? -DH

My mom’s family wants to see us again, apparently they’ve gotten over the spat happened between my uncles and my dad and they want us all together -SS

Really I think it’s because they figure it’s my grandfather’s last Christmas so they want us to pretend that everything’s fine for his sake -SS

I’m sorry to hear that -DH

Oh I don’t really give a fuck it’s just free food and free gossip about my cousins as far as I’m concerned -SS

I’ll just be bored to tears because they don’t have any fuckin technology. Just a frozen ass lake and a frozen ass town in a frozen ass state. How do they survive in a house with NO WIFI?!??!?!! -SS

Guess you’ll just have to die, then -DH

The typing indicator went up for a few seconds before a full half a minute’s pause, then Derek’s ringtone played as Stiles was now calling him. It was Derek’s preferred method of communication anyway, tone was completely lacking over text and he kind of needed some sort of cue to figure out what people meant.

“That was a fffucking meme you’re so full of shit when you pretend not to know what I’m talking about!!!” Stiles was trying to sound some form of mad, but there was way too much of a smile in his voice. “So full of shit. Fuck you.” Stiles’ verbiage towards Derek had gotten crasser and somehow even more confrontational since he’d gone off to college, but paradoxically more affectionate.

“Mhmm.” Derek didn’t give him much to go off of, but figured that Stiles had something else to talk about with him rather than just to whine about his alleged meme knowledge. Honestly, he’d just heard Isaac say it once and it garnered a positive reaction from others, so he filed it away for later use.

That wasn’t exactly what Stiles was hoping for, but he wasn’t going to let something as trivial as Derek’s resistance to banter stop him from talking. “So what are your plans for Christmas?” He still hadn’t gotten that address out of him, but if Derek had plans to be somewhere, he wanted to find out what.

“Nothing.”

Stiles stopped in his pace around his room, “Wait, nothing? What about Cora ‘n Erica ‘n Boyd ‘n Isaac ‘n Scott?” he listed off the people Derek was close enough to be around without too much annoyance in either direction.

“Cora’s down in Peru with her old pack, she’s pretty excited for their plans there, and it didn’t come with an invite, I figured I’d let her be. It’s…” He trailed off, grateful that Stiles held his tongue so he could find his words. “We’re siblings, but those six years of thinking the other dead and her pack being hundreds of miles away, we’re just not that close. I’ll call her on Christmas and I’ve sent her a couple things, it’s enough. Boyd and Erica are visiting Boyd’s grandmother in South Carolina, since his mom got a nice Christmas bonus in her paycheck.”

“Christmas bonus, huh.” Stiles’ tone was completely not buying the story.

“Christmas bonus.” Derek reaffirmed, not addressing Stiles’ suspicions in the least. It’s not that he was wrong, but Boyd was the hardest to convince to accept his financial support, so he had to resort to more sneaky measures to help him out. “And Scott and Isaac are with Ms. McCall.”

“Which also didn’t come with an invite.” Stiles filled the blank for him. It prickled at him that everyone just forgot Derek, even the ones staying in the area. “Hell, man, if I knew you got fucked over like that I’d have stayed, screw the free food ‘n everything, but we already said we’d go. I could have made you watch all of the Christmas movies that you missed out on living under a rock. And my famous hot chocolate.”

“Your famous hot chocolate, which is powdered hot chocolate mix made with whole milk, a Lindt truffle at the bottom, and a half a can of whipped cream?”

Stiles glared at the phone like the screen had personally insulted him, his ancestors, and the entirety of the Power Rangers all in one sentence. “Who told you.”

Derek was smiling despite the topic being how alone he was on the holiday. “Lydia warned me of the sugarbomb.”

“Traitor.” Stiles had an idea in his head. “Hey…..I’m gonna be bored as hell over in Michigan, and it won’t be much fun without technology, you wanna come with? You can convince them that I actually have friends and you won’t be listening to the pipes clanging in that loft all by yourself.”

“I couldn’t impose on-“

“Fuck that, they’re my family and they barely like me anyway, they’ll love you and that way I’ll at least have someone I can talk to aside from my dad, who’ll probably be bickering with my uncles, and my grandfather, who mostly speaks Polish and is about as social as a wombat.”

Derek squinted at the simile. He had to ask, even if it was stupid. “How social are wombats, exactly?”

“Hell if I know.”

Derek thought for a moment. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to at least have somewhere to go instead of staring at empty walls. “Check with them if they’re alright with you bringing someone you want to kill half the time, and if they say yes, I’ll pay my way and get a hotel.”

“No, no no, you’re staying in the house. They have a pretty big house, they got it decades and decades ago and it’s right on the lake, it’s really nice. I haven’t been there since I was…” Stiles counted on his fingers for a few seconds before giving up and ballparking it. “…Like twelve but yeah. I’ll tell ‘em I’m bringing a friend, I’m sure they’ll be fine with it. Should be grateful my fine ass will even be showing up at all.”

Derek rolled his eyes only part of the way. “See what they say, but don’t push. I won’t die if I’m on my own for Christmas.”

“Yeah but I might if I’m bored for too long out there.”

“I guess harassing me is entertainment.” He could concede that as Stiles’ motivation, it was easier than accepting a invitation offered out of guilt to bother his family by intruding on their Christmas

“Ever since I trespassed on your property, it’s been my favorite pastime.”

“Talk to you later, Stiles.” Derek wanted the conversation over before Stiles got too wrapped up in the parley and didn’t start asking, which was a basic courtesy before bringing someone they didn’t even know all the way there to stay in their house and eat their food and intrude on their family Christmas. He didn’t have high hopes, but even just the offer was enough to make him feel a little less alone.

*~*

Stiles was still blinking in shock at being awake at the ungodly hour that he was awake at, sitting in San Francisco Airport, when his father put a coffee in his hand. John was making something that was as close to small talk as Derek could get as they waited for the plane at the gate. How the both of them could stand to be so conscious before 7am was beyond him. How dare they. Didn’t they know that 5:55 am was a fake time of day and that being awoken at 3 in the morning was tantamount to a Geneva convention violation?!?

“Nhghhhgngh.” Stiles mumbled in response, shaking hands lifting the cup to his face and putting all of his faith in muscle memory to navigate the rest of it. It worked well enough, liquid went down the right tube and not down his shirt.

“C’mon, get that down so you can cram Dramamine in your face and when you wake up we’ll be in O’Hare.” John’s tone of voice was surprisingly warm and sincere despite a sentence which could easily be condescending. Maybe it was the whole Christmas spirit getting through to him, or maybe it was that Stiles was way too groggy to backsass him at this hour of the day and he was enjoying it as much as he could.

They got Stiles upright enough to get him on the plane and negotiated seating, Derek wanted on the aisle for easy escape from a compacted tube full of a ton of people and noise and smells and recycled air, which John couldn’t fault him for, and given that Stiles was going to be unconscious shortly, it was better he was on the window, so Stiles was next to Derek on the two seat side and John across the aisle from them.

Derek figured Stiles would just curl up on the window and fall asleep and he could read on his tablet in peace, so it was a mild surprise that Stiles, buckled in and half gone already, leaned on his shoulder and nuzzled in, breathing steadied and as comfortable as anything.

John leaned over to check on his son, and though wildly perplexed, he leaned back and decided that as long as Derek wasn’t strangling his kid for touching him, it was fine by him.

*~*

The arrival to Gerald Ford Airport in Michigan was, to say the least, a wakeup call for the youngest of the trio’d travelers.

“Jesus fucking Christ, oh my god, why is it so cold?” He asked as the pilot announced that the temperature in Grand Rapids was a balmy twenty-five with flurries all day. Barbaric.

“Stiles, you know it’s gonna be like, ten degrees and windstorms in Michigan the whole week, right?” Derek’s eyebrow rose at the double hoodies and vest Stiles was sporting, that Stiles had not taken out anything warmer from his luggage. That wouldn’t be nearly enough for wind straight from Canada’s frozen wastelands. Derek had done his research into where he’d be heading before packing his luggage, you know, like an adult.

“This is what I got!” Stiles shrugged, a California native that did his schooling in D.C. and Virginia, where neither place got REAL snow on the regular.

“Well, as it turns out, I expected as much.” Derek pulled out his carry-on duffle and extracted three coats, one light brown, one navy, and one black. He handed the brown to John in the middle of their row, and the navy across to Stiles. “Figured you guys wouldn’t have remembered how cold it gets in real northern places.” He said as he shrugged the black coat on himself, a slave to aesthetics.

“Hell, Derek, you didn’t have to…“ John did have a halfway warm enough coat, it wasn’t- oh, it was actually pretty nice. “How much was this?” He’d be really weirded out if Derek was dropping stacks on him and his son, he was already confused at the gift of a laptop the previous year, it’s not like he couldn’t afford a laptop for his son. He couldn’t have afforded the one Derek got him, but he didn’t want to be upstaged in taking care of Stiles. The other kids could take advantage of Derek’s money all they wanted, but the Stilinskis had pride. They didn’t accept charity from rich boy werewolves.

“Not nearly enough for either of you to worry about it.” Derek said, sliding his sunglasses on and leaning back, not interested in carrying on the conversation any longer.

John, unable to turn down the gift but weirded out by Derek both anticipating this need at all, actually going to the trouble to getting these, and sacrificing space in his carry on to bring them on the plane all for this specific scene along with buying him gifts, pulled it on all the same. What a fucking drama queen. “Thanks, Derek.”

Stiles had rolled his eyes at yet another extravagant present from Derek that was way too much to accept but he was trapped by it, since he did desperately need it and couldn’t say no. Well, he’d saved Derek from being the saddest bastard in all of California on Christmas, so maybe this was recompense. “It’s not like I can’t warm myself up.” He grumbled. Heat spells were elementary on the roster of the things any spark worth his salt would know. And Stiles was the saltiest of all.

“Yeah, Stiles, go ahead and slightly set yourself on fire through the whole week.” Derek’s deadpan delivery could easily be mistaken for sincerity, which did well enough to disguise the fact that he was actually really impressed that Stiles had been getting far enough with his magic to do some interesting and sometimes even useful things. “You’ll be our Yule Log. Very seasonal self-immolation.”

John expected Stiles to look pissed at that level of smack-talk, but Stiles looked oddly gratified by the response, like getting Derek to make fun of him was his goal all along.

“Such a good alpha provider, takes such good care of us. Thaaaank you Dereeeek.”

There might have been just a twitch of a smile at the corner of Derek’s mouth, but it could have just been a trick of the lights as cabin prepared for landing.

*~*

Stiles was giving Derek a rundown of the family members he’d have to keep straight while there, cousins and uncles and aunts and people that were peripheral to the family but close enough to be considered part of the group, the bits and pieces of them that he’d pulled together. He hadn’t seen them in a decade, so much of what he knew was informed by Facebook posts and a few Instagram bits that let him know who was who and look at least a little less like he didn’t remember jack shit about his cousins. Which he did, just they were also around 8-14 so it’s been a while, alright? Some of ‘em had gone to college, some of ‘em got jobs, hell, one of ‘em was married with a kid. Wild.

“Shortlist of the important family to know: Nelia, grandpa’s wife. My grandmother died a few years after my mom, but Nelia’s a pretty nice woman, she’s got a really thick accent so if you don’t understand what she’s saying you can ask one of us to translate, we all speak Polish to some degree.”

“I don’t.” John added, at the driver’s seat of the rented car. Derek would rent a car in town, they figured that arriving together would be easier, and then no one was alone for the ride from the airport to the family house.

“Well, Dad doesn’t, but there you go, you and him can be awkward together when we talk shit about you guys, it’ll be great.” Stiles was in the passenger seat, texting people at lightning speed about how this was going to be the most hilarious week of his life and it was all because Derek was going to have to be exposed to a TRADITIONAL FAMILY CHRISTMAS. Did you pack Benadryl? -ER

Why? -SS

For when he breaks out in hives from people expressing genuine emotion around him -ER

“Then there’s Grandpa, I call him the Polish term for it, Dziadek, you’re probably best off with Mr. Gajos. I think I’ve heard a grand total of ten words out of him my whole life, so you don’t have to worry much about him.”

Derek’s eyes were fixed on something in the distance, and casually added, “He’s who you’re named after, right?”

Stiles went stiff and turned around to look at Derek. “Who told you.” Much less humorous than the previous inquisition about the hot chocolate, he seemed properly displeased about it.

Derek only mildly smiled and made no other answer. Stiles made an aggravated noise but wasn’t going to try and interrogate Derek. He continued his familial explanation but sounded much more irritated at everyone in it. “Then there are my cousins, there are a bunch and some new ones I’ve never met, but you pretty much only have to know Nika, who’s two years older than me. She’s the only one that sort of kept in touch and therefore the only one I care about. The uncles are …well you don’t care, and I bet they won’t mess with you much. Now, the whole drama with them, Dad, if you wanna take the lead on explaining why we haven’t talked to ‘em in over a decade.”

John gave Stiles a meaningful glance, but didn’t explain it. “Well, after Claudia died, I had a hard time of it for a while. They thought that I should have handled her, and Stiles, differently than I did.” Derek realized the glance was begging Stiles not to ask John to air his most closely guarded shames right in front of Derek, who signed up for a little getaway and not to hear all their most private secrets.

“They were firm believers that ADHD was cured by beatings and were annoyed that I was a bit of a holy terror.” Stiles translated.

John grimaced a little. “They wanted to take Stiles in, raise him properly. I admit I wasn’t perfect. They weren’t right to say it, but I understand why they did.”

Derek could connect the dots laid out before him. They saw John as a useless drunk and Stiles as a neglected brat and thought they could do better. “So now you’re talking again?” He asked, desperate to save John from further agonies.

“Enough that they didn’t threaten to play family politics chess and try to make Stiles’ grandparents chose which children they liked better this year.”

“We did alright on our own.” Stiles declared with a defiant smile, clearly not about to entertain the notion of understanding their position whatsoever.

It was hard for Derek to wrap his head around a family fracturing so easily like that, Hale lines ran so deep that even someone as gone as Peter could find his way back in Derek’s heart if he worked for it. To cut someone off so cleanly on either side was alien to him. But it wasn’t his family, and frankly none of his business anyway.

*~*

They stood outside of a surprisingly expansive house on the edge of Silver Lake on the western side of the Michigan mitten, the gray sky above their heads threatening to dump yet more snow on them as they waited for someone to reach the door. Derek could hear a collection of heartbeats and voices within. Two of them old, one arrhythmic. A couple more adults, a few younger voices, a decent family gathering. There was apple, rum, cinnamon, nutmeg in the air, someone made mulled cider. It was only the 22nd, this was just a small contingent perhaps, or at least not held to the same importance as Christmas Eve.

The door opened, and a short, stout woman with steel curls and a smile that felt like home stood in the doorway to welcome them. “Mieczyslaaaw!“ She reached forward and pulled him down to kiss both of his cheeks and hug him tightly. She hadn’t seen him since they all attended the funeral of their grandmother. As a longtime family friend in the area, it was an easy transition for the family to absorb Nelia in the fold. “Oh, my sweet child. Look at you, how you’ve grown. My love.” She ushered him inside to embrace John as well, but paused a little in surprise when she saw Derek. “Nelia, this is my friend Derek.” Stiles said, looking almost proud to bring home such a fine friend to his step-grandmother. Almost as if he was proving to everyone that he wasn’t a complete social pariah, that he had people who liked him enough to come all the way out to Michigan with him. Nelia looked surprised at the man before her, but to her credit recovered quickly, holding a hand out for him to shake. “So nice to meet you, Derek. Please, come in.” For all of Stiles’ warning of an accent, it really wasn’t that bad. Clearly not her first language, but perfectly understandable. Though Derek had taught himself Polish when you are very rich you have a fair bit of time on your hands, he knew that he could only tell Stiles that he could speak it once, and he was saving that card for later. Unless Nelia was struggling on something, he’d keep his fluency to himself. She pulled him in with a hand on his shoulder as well, closing the door to the cold.

The house was warm and alive, a strong furnace and people comfortable staying there. Derek was able to pick up on more than the others and could hear a side conversation between two men.

“Your other grandson and John are here.” An adult man, a husky voice, probably a smoker, speaking quietly in a distant room. There were footsteps coming towards the Stilinskis and Derek at the door, but the voice stayed put. Whoever was talking wasn’t moving a muscle to meet them.

“Good! Good. I want to see them. It’s been too long.” The responding voice was hoarse, stilted slightly, and far older. It almost reminded Derek of Vito Corleone, a man assured of his position as patriarch.Who wouldn’t have his opinion questioned.

"It’s a disgrace.”

"I have tolerated the insult of your war against them long enough. Silence.” An authoritative end to a conversation, before a creak of wheels coming toward them.

Stiles was going through family, stiff handshakes with the assorted uncles, trying to communicate through grip and direct eye contact that he knew precisely what they said about him and his dad, and that given the opportunity, he’d fight them. He then had to give hugs of varying sincerity with the cousins. The ones he knew from his childhood he could embrace with genuine emotion, the ones he’d never met was more of an uncomfortable formality, performed for the sake of appearances. Once finished, he saw his grandfather for the first time in years. It was a lance through his heart to see the once tall man reduced to a withered shadow in a wheelchair. “Hi Dziadek.” He said, bending down to put an arm around him.

“Oh, Mischief.” The older man put shaking hands around Stiles’ face. “You look so much like Claudia.”

Stiles nodded sadly as his grandfather patted his face and let him return to full height again. Mentions of his mother didn’t hurt as much as they used to, but he didn’t remember her face as much as the others did, it seemed. When he looked in the mirror, he didn’t see a ghost looking out like the others could.

Derek was awkwardly explaining who he was to some people there who also seemed confused, when the cousin he saw Nelia talking to earlier took his arm. “Derek, we were under the impression when Stiles said he was bringing a friend that you’d be a girlfriend.” She finally explained outright.

Derek blinked a few times and was grateful for all the years of keeping a straight face under pressure to now not give any sign of a reaction. He put his thoughts into a response after a moment’s recovery. “That does explain why Nelia was confused. I’m just a friend who didn’t have plans for Christmas and Stiles offered. If it’s a problem at all I could absolutely stay some-“

“Oh, no, staying here is fine.” The girl saved him from talking. “I’m Nika, by the way.” She fixed him with an odd look that he’d seen sometimes in Stiles, a sort of curious, searching look that a raptor might give while wondering if something was prey or a toy. “Just that originally, when you were a girlfriend, you’d have been staying in my room and Stiles was with my brother. But that’s clearly not going to be a thing. So you and my brother will be switching, so you’re with Stiles and my brother’s with me. He had to go move his stuff. You and Stiles should come up and see the room, I think we have some things to discuss.”

She was tossing around so many red flags in Derek’s head she could be a one person color guard. He didn’t know what the hell she was, but there was something very very very wrong with this whole situation. He might not have an intuitive evil detector like Stiles’ spidey sense, but he had a healthy dose of paranoia, and it was telling him that there was all kinds of trouble about to occur. Maybe she was going to ritually sacrifice them up there. Maybe this was the Polish Get Out. Wyjść. It was a little catchy.

The adults had started passing around drinks and returned to their original conversations, and Nika made some excuse about room arrangements and putting luggage up to drag Stiles away from the grandparents glad to be reunited with their prodigal grandson.

Stiles peeled away from them and caught the Am I Going To Be Flayed Alive look in Derek’s big green stupidly pretty eyes and almost laughed. “Relax, Ice Man, you’re fine.” He clapped him on the shoulder as they went outside to get the suitcases from the car. “It’s Nika. She’s my absolute fave cousin, and if something happened to her or she meant any kind of ill will, I’d know. Trust me. She’s fine.”

Nika lead them upstairs to a small room with a full size bed, dark blue walls, no decorations but a nightstand and rug. Hadn’t been lived in for months, given the dead air in the room. “So, Stiles. How about you tell me when your spark woke, and why you brought a werewolf all the way over here.”

Stiles choked on either air or an immediate response, either way he sounded like an ostrich getting throttled. Derek wasn’t making out much better mentally, but he only raised his eyebrows.

Nika smiled as she sat on the bed. “Come on, Stiles, where’d you think you got the gift from? Aunt Claudia never used her talents much, but she was one of us.” She picked up the candle on the nightstand and blew on the wick, a flame lighting to fill the room with some warmth. “I’ve never met a werewolf before, but you were sensing shit like Legolas out there, Derek, it wasn’t too subtle, and a set of ears and or nose like that, out of Beacon Hills aka Werewolf Wonderland?”

“More like nightmareland.” Stiles snorted. “So, holy shit, like five revelations at once and I wanna come back to like….all of them, but…uh….how many of ‘em know, downstairs?!” He asked, shocking Derek by asking an actually relevant, useful question.

“The three brothers know their mother and their sister were “”””out there”””” and that you’re insane and I’m a lost cause. Dziadek knew that Babcia was a superstitious woman and that the wild comes through sometimes. Oh, sorry Derek, Dziadek and Babcia are grandfather and grandmother respectively.” Nika explained. “Babcia did small things, mostly stuff with herbs and intent, like thumping a car engine and telling it to run, or aggressively sweeping bad energy out of the house, or putting bundles above doorways to keep evil intent out. Even the mistletoe around the house was hers.” She set the candle back onto the nightstand, the fire flickering with the movement. “Werewolves are very family oriented, in general, it’s unusual to break away from the family to join another entirely alien one for a holiday like Christmas. I’m just curious.”

“He’s way too nice and let his pack totally forget about him.” Stiles wasn’t remotely afraid of being as bitter about it as Derek tried to deny that he felt.

Nika digested the statement for a moment and gave them a vague smile. “Maybe not all of them.” She got up and left the room as if that would give her the last word. Clearly, she didn’t recall from her childhood who Stiles was, as he followed her as quickly as his gazelle legs could with an indignant “WHAT DOES THAT MEAN!?”

*~*

Stiles had been so wrapped up in realizing that there was a whole family history of witchery that he’d completely missed out on the fact that Derek and him were actually now supposed to share a bed until it was one in the morning and he finally arrived in the room. To find Derek sitting on his suitcase reading. “Hey, thought you came up here a while ago.”

“I did, but…” Derek half winced and locked his tablet. “We only got the one bed, and..”

“Bro, you used to live in the burned-out husk of your family’s old house I am not about to buy that you’re such a snob that you can’t share a bed for a few nights.” Stiles yanked his shirt off and tossed it in the vague direction of his suitcase. “It’s just a few nights and I even have sleep pants if you wanna go all no homo on me.”

“What? No, n- that’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean.” The belt careened through the air in an ark as Stiles continued the process.

Derek was going to have to talk quickly if he wanted to get out anything. “I can’t sleep next to people.”

“What? Why?” Stiles paused, button of his jeans undone.

Derek was looking at a particularly fascinating piece of lint on the ground. “Just never works out right. I didn’t want to just disappear on you, so I was waiting for you to get back before I went to find a hotel or crash on the couch.”

“No, why. I wanna know why.”

Derek contemplated crawling out of the window to escape Stiles’ eyes, which even in the low light of the room burned into his skull. “I just can’t, alright?”

“Nope. Not alright. Fess up.”

“I’m a sleep cuddler.” Derek said it so quickly and refused to look up no matter what Stiles did.

Stiles was quiet for a few odd moments while he had a face odyssey. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Derek could feel the blush on his face and was actively willing it to go away forever. “Ever since I was a kid, if there’s someone next to me I always end up wrapped around ‘em. It’s not conscious, it just happens. So.”

“Jesus tittyfuckin’ Christ, Derek I thought it was something serious. I’m not gonna die if you give me a lil hug. Don’t be so dramatic.” Stiles finally flung his jeans off and crawled under the covers, the little tone of his phone plugging in to charge playing as he settled in. “G’night, Der.” He mumbled sleepily.

Derek had no choice. If Stiles told anyone about this, they’d never find his body. Whose body would go missing was up for debate.

*~*

Derek was a filthy liar when he tried to say it didn’t work out, and he knew it. He slept better than he had in months that night. When he awoke, Stiles was playing some mobile game, and Derek was spooning him pretty hardcore, legs tangled and an arm over his stomach. He moved away the instant he came to consciousness again. “Sorry.” He mumbled, only the ghosts of vowels in the slurred word.

“Hell, if it was a problem I’d have crawled out, but uh, you don’t get too much sleep and seeing as you knocked out for a solid nine hours there, I thought it best to let you wake up on your own.” Stiles was all nonchalance, but Derek could hear something like omission from his words. It’s not that he was wrong, it was just adjacent to the truth.

“Who told you I don’t sleep?”

“The fact that you text me back about Edda translations at three in the morning on Tuesday nights tells me that you’re not sleeping much. Now c’mon, we missed the breakfast train but if we make puppy eyes at Nelia enough she’ll probably cave and feed us. Or smack us lightly and call us lazy. One of the two.”

*~*

“Stiles, your friend is so handsome, how does he not have a girlfriend?” Nelia asked, perfectly comfortable to talk all kinds of terrible things as Derek was helping fold pierogi with Nika and Stiles. “He’d make a fine husband. He should find a good wife.”

Stiles gawked for a second, and had no clue how to respond. This would in no way stop him from doing so anyway. “He’s had a difficult time for a while, he’s helping his family right now, college, supporting them.” Stiles’ Polish was pretty rusty, he hadn’t been practicing much in the last several years.

“He has children?”

“No. Not exactly. More friends that he kind of brought inside because no one was helping them right.”

“Hmm. Nika, he’s handsome, isn’t he?”

Nika did not want to get dragged into this conversation. “Very, but it isn’t nice to talk about people in front of them.”

Nelia went to check on the uncles as they were all apparently having a slight discussion with John on the front lawn and was fully prepared to drag each of them back in by their ear and give them a firm education on the meaning of Christmas. This of course left the cousins and Derek all alone in the kitchen, the others of the family dispersed for their individual amusements.

“So, Stiles, are you…..and Derek….?”

Stiles blinked, sealing the dough around the potato and onion. “Are we what”

“Boyfriends.” She said it like it wasn’t kind of a bombshell of a word to utter.

“Nooo.” Flour and bits of dough scattered as he waved his hands to emphasize how NO that was. Absolutely not. Had she even seen Derek? He was so out of his league it physically and emotionally pained him. “ No. We’re just friends. Truly.”

“Okay, okay, I was just wondering. I wasn’t going to tell anyone.”

“I’m not gay.”

“I didn’t ask if you were.”

“You were asking a little bit.”

“But I wasn’t.”

“Derek’s also not gay”

“I wasn’t asking!”

“But he does have terrible….choice in women. Every time he gets a girlfriend she tries to kill us.”

That was enough of that. Derek had developed some thick skin about the litany of traumas he’d incurred and would give Stiles a little leave to talk shit about Jennifer, but that was taking it a little more casually than he’d like. “That’s a little mean, Stiles.” He said in perfect Polish.

Stiles turned so many colors that there was a risk he might burst a blood vessel. He fled before anyone could grab hold of him and make him accountable for his actions. Nika at least muttered an apology before scurrying off.

Derek wondered if his deep-seated need to be dramatic may contrasting with his desire to not be such a colossal dick to people he actually liked.

*~*

Stiles successfully avoided Derek by busying himself with everything possible for the rest of the day, but of course, after the day, must come the night, and thus the sleep. In the same bed. With the guy he brutally insulted and exposed just hours ago. Fuck.

Maybe if Derek was already asleep he could just curl up in the closet and evaporate entirely before anyone noticed he existed. Fuck. Why did this have to happen. Why did he have to open his big stupid mouth and say the stupidest thing that he’d ever uttered in his life.

He didn’t see light coming from under the door as he went, but knew that Derek would wake up if the doorknob made even the slightest sound. He rubbed his hands enough to warm the bony fingers and waved his hand slowly around the doorframe, collecting the sound from that space before snatching it all. Just long enough to open it silently.

When he saw Derek sitting up in bed with just the candle on the nightstand and his tablet in hand, Stiles had half a thought to make a run for it. But Derek had already looked up with a raised eyebrow. There was no escaping.

“How’d you do that that quietly?” Derek asked, not addressing the parade of elephants doing the merengue in the room.

“I, uh, didn’t want to wake you up. So I just took the sound away from it.” Stiles answered, stepping inside and looking pointedly away from anywhere near the bed.

Derek locked his tablet and set it aside. “That’s pretty impressive.” Was all he said in reply, but it was gushing praise given who it was coming from.

Stiles couldn’t stand it anymore. “Derek I am so sorry I said that, I never should have even thought it, I just-“ his words were running on top of each other and he felt like King Trashbag of the proud nation of Shitfriendia.

“Relax.”

Stiles hated being told to relax by anyone, but he had to be very nice to Derek for the rest of their concurrent lives and there was something so calm about the way Derek said it that made it less insulting. He hazarded a glance up, but Derek wasn’t wearing a shirt and even in the low light of the room he could see chest hair and he had to look away immediately or he might die.

“You have a family member who understands you on a level none of the rest of us do. She’s becoming a fast friend and you’re very comfortable with her. It wasn’t the nicest thing to say,” and it was pretty damn private, but Derek was trying to make Stiles feel better so he wouldn’t bring it up, “but I know you didn’t mean to hurt me by it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” This was probably the most adult conversation that either of them had ever engaged in, it was frankly shocking. Derek had called Boyd to help process his emotions and figure out what to say in a way that was a little more level headed than he might have done on his own.

Stiles nodded, knowing that Derek wouldn’t appreciate further self-flagellation from him and that he just would have to accept being a terrible person for the rest of his life. When he crawled into bed, he lied awake, staring at the wall across from his face and mulled it over and over. He could hear Derek’s breathing settle as he fell asleep, and an hour later a couple wiggles and there was a nose pressing against his neck and a hand over his stomach. Stiles sighed at the warm heat against him, and finally could fall asleep.

*~*

Nelia checked the codfish in the oven, monitoring the temperature carefully. “Still not ready. Mieczyslaw, could you help set the table, please?” She asked, setting some rolled napkins and a handful of forks onto the table.

It was Christmas Eve, and the whole family was sitting down soon for Wigilia, the main feast. Usually eaten before going to Midnight Mass, beginning at around eleven and finishing at midnight proper. Despite its importance, the grandparents had not gone since the grandfather had been confined to his wheelchair and their local church loved its beautiful stone steps so much. As a religious building that was remarkably old, it was exempt from the ADA act requiring public buildings to be wheelchair accessible.

They still held the meal, though Nelia and the older Mieczyslaw went to bed and the others of the family were encouraged to go and say their prayers for them. The young children were kept at home with the grandparents to watch them and make sure no one got out of their bed to try and catch Santa Claus.

Stiles was carrying various accoutrements from the fridge and counters to the table, and counted the place settings. Exactly enough for everyone, though this alerted him. “Wait, Nelia, we’re missing one. The spot for the wanderer.”

In many other cultures, an empty place setting at a family meal might be in remembrance of someone who had passed, or who could not be present at the table due to extenuating circumstances. It meant that something was missing, and some wanted to honor that with a missing place for them at the table. However, in Polish tradition at Wigilia, there is an empty place setting for an unexpected guest, or wanderer. A wędrowiec.

Nelia gave Stiles a meaningful look, one that he couldn’t decipher. He was so used to these kinds of looks being paired with massive eyebrows and kaleidoscope green eyes that trying to do it for other people was more difficult. “Think on it.” She said, slicing challah bread into a basket and wrapping the napkin over it to keep them warm.

Stiles puzzled and puzzled til his puzzler was sore, then it dawned on him. He wondered why it hadn’t before. “Derek.”

Nelia chuckled as she started slicing a loaf of challah bread. “Such a smart boy you are, Mieczyslaw.” Bringing a friend who had nowhere else to go so soon beforehand was certainly an unexpected traveler, though she didn’t know that Derek had been a wanderer for much longer than just that winter.

*~*

As John wasn’t Catholic, Stiles hadn’t even been Confirmed, and Derek didn’t want to go without Stiles, they all hung back while the others went off to the Midnight Mass. Since they knew that with kiddos younger than eight, Christmas begins absurdly early for everyone, they went to bed after seeing everyone off for the church about 20 minutes from the house.

Stiles lied awake, waiting for Derek to properly fall asleep so he’d get that heavy warm weight against him, that even though it’d only been a few nights, he found it hard to fall asleep without that. He loved the excuse they both got for it, this unconscious habit, but he hoped, he wished that Derek wasn’t regretting that he woke up with an armful of Stiles.

But he didn’t. He lay there for a few hours before getting out of bed and leaving the room. Stiles thought he was going to the bathroom or something, but after ten whole awful minutes of not having Derek next to him, he had to investigate. Checking his phone, the screen said 11:57PM. The whole gang of adults would be out at Mass for a while yet, the service had barely just started and apparently the priest loved his speechifying when the whole congregation was actually there for once during the year as his captive audience.

Stiles crept downstairs looking for his friend, finding Derek in the kitchen, watching a mug rotate in the microwave. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

Derek glanced up. He’d heard Stiles coming down, but he didn’t really see the need to react beforehand. It’s not like his mom had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar or anything. “Kind of. And I wanted to set out some of the things I got for the kids who don’t have as much money as the others. Went out when you were trying to avoid me with their parents to make sure none of the kids felt left out.”

“Santa’s Lil Helper, huh?”

Derek pondered it. “A little. And it’s a Hale tradition. Or more, it’s a Derek Hale tradition, since I’m pretty much the one who spearheaded it.”

“What did your family used to do for Christmas?” They were speaking in hushed tones so as not to wake anyone up, but in the warm light of the kitchen Christmas lights, and the soft look of Derek in a beat-up tee and plaid sweatpants, he felt sentimental enough to ask.

“Christmas was always a little funny in the Hale house.” Derek admitted, stopping the microwave a moment before the chime would go off. “We didn’t do Santa Claus.”

“Did you do Santa Claws?” Stiles mimed some claws and fangs, knowing he’d earn an eyeroll at best.

Derek did not disappoint. “No, just a couple presents from Mom and Dad, and aunts and uncles would be later. They didn’t want us getting spoiled or thinking Santa loved us more because he gave us all kinds of stuff. But we didn’t open anything until at least noon.”

“Parents liked their sleep?” Stiles definitely remembered a firm ALL PRESENTS WILL BE REPLACED WITH CHORES AND BRUSSELS SPROUTS IF THIS DOOR IS OPENED BEFORE 8:00 AM rule on Christmas morning. Of course, Stiles was jumping on his bed with excitement at five in the morning, anyway.

Derek shook his head, and his phone started vibrating in his pocket. Stiles squinted, who would be calling Derek at midnight? Moreover, why was Derek actually taking the call??

He stepped outside onto the porch, little snow drifts from their actual white Christmas shuffling aside for him with his mug. Stiles saw the bag of Lindt truffles and a little chocolate powder dust on the counter- that sonuvabitch made HIS secret recipe. Wait. WHAT.

Derek stepped back in a few minutes later with half a smile on his face.

“Who was that?” Stiles had to ask.

“Cora.”

“What’d she want?”

Derek looked mildly embarrassed. “As of,” he looked at his watch, which read 12:08AM “…five minutes ago, I’m thirty years old.”

Stiles’ jaw dropped just a bit as his mind whirled. “It’s your birthday!?” he hissed, needing to aggressively shout but not able to wake the kids.

Derek almost winced. “Yeah.”

“Well….happy birthday!” Shit. Shit shit shit. HE’D KNOWN DEREK FOR EIGHT YEARS AND HE NEVER KNEW THIS WAS HIS BIRTHDAY. Stiles had to go find his King Trashbag of Shitfriendia crown again and sit on his dumpster pile.

“I don’t like people knowing. It’s an awkward day to have a birthday.” Derek sipped his cocoa, clearly uncomfortable.

Stiles didn’t know how to deal with this. “So…is that why you guys didn’t do Christmas until the afternoon?” He felt like he was playing minesweeper, except he didn’t get to see the warning numbers.

“Yeah.” He looked down into the mug, it was easier to talk about things if he didn’t have to watch the face journey of sympathy on people’s faces when he talked about his family. But he missed them on his birthday especially, and he wanted to talk about it. And out of anyone, he wanted to talk to Stiles about it. He knew, at least to some degree, the feeling of empty spaces in your memories. “My mom used to wake me up at 12:03 to tell me happy birthday and bring me in the kitchen. She’d have a present on there that was a birthday present only. From her. She was the alpha, so it was…pretty much impossible to actually ever get her alone. Always busy with the whole pack, worrying about everyone else, worrying about…” He trailed off. Christmas was always such a hectic time for everyone, so much noise and stress and busy rushing everywhere. “So it was nice, to have that little moment with just her.”

Silence fell between them for a few moments. Stiles didn’t know what to do with himself. Then he realized; his present to Derek was bizarrely perfect. “Hold on. Hold right here.” He stole up to his room and came back down with a wrapped present, the tape shoddily put on. He thrust the box out to Derek, looking way too happy with himself. “Happy birthday, big guy.”

Derek looked between Stiles and the box a few times, but took it and quietly unstuck the tape to slide the box out and open it. “You fucking dick.” He laughed as he pulled out a sweater that said “BIRTHDAY BOY” on it, with a hideous looking Jesus. A true ugly Christmas sweater, with a bday twist.

Stiles was grinning like a loon as Derek pulled the sweater on over his tee, that amused glint in Derek’s eyes where Stiles’ idiot sense of humor hit him perfectly. He picked up his mug again, and felt that it’d turned cold. “Can I get a warm-up?”

Stiles could have just poked the mug in Derek’s hands, or even just pointed at it. But Stiles wrapped his hands around it, his hands glowing a little as the liquid heated within, and Derek’s cold hand too.

Derek’s eyebrow quirked slightly. “Thanks.” He took a sip. “Can y’do whipped cream too?”

Stiles stifled a snorted laugh poorly, but didn’t step back away.

Derek set the mug back onto the table and looked at Stiles for another quiet moment, this one much less tense. Without looking up, he broke the silence with “I swear to God if there’s mistletoe up there right n-mmf!”

Stiles had closed the gap to kiss him, his hands holding Derek’s face as he nearly crushed their noses together. They eventually managed to tilt their heads properly so it was less of a frantic smush and more of a proper kiss.

When they finally broke so Stiles could breathe, Derek had a smile on his face, one that didn’t leave in half a second. “So, is there any?”

Stiles was able to stifle that stupid laugh better. “C’mon, lets get those presents out there for them. They’ll be back eventually.”

They put some Christmas movies on the TV as they sorted the presents into neat piles for each family so everyone could sit with their group. They were on the couch, writing out the tags on each one, making sure that the way all the Santas were written exactly the same and all of the names were spelled exactly correct. Stealing kisses every once in a while devolved slowly over the course of one of the Rankin and Bass animated movies to Stiles pressing Derek into the couch, making out like a couple of teenagers with the Christmas spirit in them.

John was trudging downstairs to see if Santa had left any of those shortbread cookies, but heard something odd from the family room. He was about to investigate, but heard something that sounded very distinctly like a Stiles happy noise, and decided to have a coughing fit and remind those two that they were not only not alone in this abode, but that the assorted parents and cousins would be returning soon and unless Stiles wanted to come out to the family in the most aggressive way possible, they better take it upstairs.

Derek managed to blush harder than Stiles did, but both had received the message, and put away the tags and pens before retreating to their room sheepishly. But they knew that John had probably seen this coming, and wasn’t going to judge them for it.

When they crawled into bed, Stiles didn’t have to wait to feel that arm around him, the press of heat against him, safe and warm. Derek kissed the back of his neck, and he could feel the smile against his skin.

Derek heard the family come back from the Midnight Mass downstairs, doing their best to tiptoe through and not wake up anyone.

“Ah ah ah! Mistletoe!” one of the aunts cooed, before a smack of a kiss.

“Who puts mistletoe in the middle of the kitchen.” Grumbled someone who was not getting themselves a Christmas kiss, bah humbug and all that.

The last voice was Nika. “Babcia always said there’s magic in a kitchen.”

#everchanginginks #stereksanta18 #*fic18 #*gifts18

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