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live-the-fangirl-life · 3 years ago

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It’s the Thought that Counts

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn - Birthday Oneshot

All Rowan wants to do is throw a surprise party for his girlfriend, but that becomes increasingly difficult as every possible thing that could go wrong—goes wrong.

I wrote this for my birthday on the fifth, but I couldn't wait until then to post it, Enjoy!

Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Warnings: Language, Light NSFW

4476 words

*******

“Are you serious?”

If Rowan’s hair wasn’t already silver, it would’ve been by the end of the day from all the stress this was putting him through.

Looking into the open cake box in Fenrys’ hands, he just stared at the inscription atop what was supposed to be a birthday cake for Aelin.

“What? What’s wrong?” Fenrys tried to lean over the lid of the box but it was tall enough to block his view.

“Did you even look at it before you left the store? Before you paid for it?” It took all of Rowan’s self-control not to scream. How many more things could go wrong today?

Fenrys shifted uneasily, noticing Rowan’s slipping control. “Uh, no. I was already running late, and you said to get back here as soon as possible to help finish setting up.”

All Rowan could do was let out a long, slow breath.

“This. Says. Alien.”

The blonde man holding the cake snorted, “what?”

“The cake says ‘Happy Birthday, Alien’”

“Seriously?” Fenrys was quick to put the box down on a nearby table so he could stand next to Rowan and look at it. “Shit. They even put little green Martians on it.”

All Rowan wanted to do was throw a surprise party for his girlfriend.

Was that really too much to ask? Apparently, so.

A couple of months ago Aelin had mentioned how she’d always wanted a surprise party, but of course, you cant ask for a surprise party because then it’s no longer a surprise.

Rowan took the hint and decided to plan something special for her birthday. He even got all their friends to help, and if everything had gone to plan then it would have been a perfect day.

Too bad he couldn’t catch a break.

Rowan had made a list of everything they needed to do, buy, and plan. It was an extensive list because he knew that a party for Aelin had to be perfect. Not because she had impossibly high standards—well, she did, but that wasn’t why it had to be perfect—it was because he loved her and wanted to show her how much he appreciated her on her birthday.

And he thought it would be the icing on the cake—pun intended—to have all their friends involved too. That’s why he was making calls to all of them about what they each needed to do for the party.

First, he got Lorcan and Elide to pick up the golden balloon arch that was going to be at the entrance of the park he’d reserved for the day. By the time he got on the phone with Lorcan, Rowan was already exasperated from having to deal with the city planning office in order to reserve the particular park and gazebo.

“Lorcan, I need you in charge of the—” Rowan broke off, hearing a loud crackling from the other end of the phone.

“You’re cutting off, wha— you say?” Lorcan’s voice was halting as the call cut in-and-out

“I was saying, I need you to cover the balloons.”

“Ba—”

“The balloon canopy.”

“The bo—, ca—”

“Yeah, we need a golden balloon canopy.”

“Okay, fine. I— got the— boun— ca—”

“Shit. Can you hear me?” Rowan pulled his phone away to check his service. It was fine from his end, it must be Lorcan’s phone being spotty.

When Rowan put the phone back to his ear, he could hear rustling and the sound of a car door opening and closing, and then the connection cleared.

“Yeah, man. I heard you. But, are you sure Aelin wants that?” Lorcan sounded skeptical.

“What? Yeah, of course, it’ll be great.” Rowan was already getting impatient, knowing he had a few more errands to run before he could relax.

“Whatever. She’s your girlfriend, and it’s your credit card.”

Rolling his eyes, Rowan muttered, “Thank you for your generous help, Lorcan.” then heard someone scolding Lorcan and grinned before saying loud enough for the other person to hear, “Thank you, Elide!”

Rowan hung up and mentally checked off the balloons. What was next?

***

“Aedion, please, I need you to keep Aelin busy for the day.”

Aedion and Lysandra had come over to Rowan and Aelin’s apartment for dinner, and Rowan had dragged Aedion into the kitchen to talk about that weekend’s plan.

Taking a sip of his beer, Aedion raised an eyebrow at him, “Won’t she wonder why her boyfriend is avoiding her on her birthday?”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “I won’t be avoiding her. You will very adamantly request to take your cousin to lunch for her birthday, and who am I to get in the way of family?”

Aedion snorted but nodded. “Yeah, okay. Lys and I can take her out.”

“No, Lys can’t be there.”

“What?” Aedion looked at him bewildered. “Why not?”

Rowan sighed. “Because if Lysandra is there with you, then Aelin will wonder why I’m not there with her. If it’s just you and Aelin, then she won’t think it’s weird that I’m gone. Besides,” Rowan took another sip of beer, “I’ll need Lys’ help during the day to set up that slideshow.”

“Right.”

The slideshow Rowan had asked Aedion and Lysandra to make using pictures of Aelin that would play during the party. The one that Aedion wasn’t going to tell Rowan hadn’t been started yet. “Yeah, okay. I’ll invite Aelin to come get lunch with me.”

“Perfect.”

One more thing off Rowan’s list.

***

The morning of the party Rowan asked Fenrys to go pick up Aelin’s cake. It was supposed to be a chocolate and hazelnut cake with the top decorated with kingsflame blossoms and say, “Happy Birthday Aelin.”

Rowan was distracted with setting up decorations and directing their friends to put away the things they brought. Dorian and Manon were in charge of getting the alcohol. Chaol and Yrene were bringing deserts because when it came to Aelin there could never be enough sweets. Fenrys helped Rowan bring out the rest of the food, before being sent off to pick up the cake.

Rowan did a quick scan, mentally checking off everyone. Besides the people he could see, he knew Lysandra was in the gazebo finishing up the slideshow, Aedion was out distracting Aelin, and Elide and Lorcan would be here any minute with the balloons.

Letting out a breath, Rowan smiled. Things seemed to be coming together.

Busy showing Dorian where the coolers for the drinks were, he was too distracted to do more than wave a ‘hello’ to Lorcan and Elide as Lorcan’s truck pulled up to the park. Rowan decided they were smart enough to figure out how to set up a balloon arch—or at least Elide could read the directions to a grumbling Lorcan, so Rowan spent the next half hour with other parts of the setup.

After he finished hanging up the screen they were going to use for the picture slideshow, Rowan went to check on the balloons.

He made it two steps out of the large gazebo and stopped in his tracks.

“What the fuck is this?” Rowan exclaimed, gaping at the large monstrosity in front of him.

Instead of looking at a beautiful, arched balloon canopy, he was looking at a massive, inflatable, child’s bouncy castle.

“What do you mean ‘what the fuck is this?’” Lorcan asked, wiping a bit of sweat from his forehead and stepping around the side of the castle. “This is what you asked for.”

“This is not what I asked for.” Rowan could feel his mouth still hanging open and quickly shut it.

Elide looked at Rowan in confusion. “Rowan, you did ask for this. I mean, I definitely thought it was weird that Aelin would want a blow-up bounce house for her birthday, but when Lor asked if you were sure, you insisted it was right.”

Rowan tried to remember that particular conversation. He had so many details in his head and too many people in charge of different things.

“Shit.” The phone call was coming back to Rowan to now. “We kept getting cut off. Shit,” He ran an exasperated hand through his hair making it all stand up on end. He swung around towards Lorcan who looked at him with raised brows. “What did you think I was asking you to get?”

Lorcan slowly looked between the bouncy house and Rowan. “You asked me to get a Bounce Castle.”

For fucks sake.

“I asked you to get a Balloon Canopy.”

Elide’s mouth opened in an ‘O’ and Lorcan said nothing until a moment later he was laughing, bent over at the waist.

“You wanted balloons, and now Galathynius has a bounce castle.” He managed between breaths, ignoring Rowan’s fuming look. It took Elide elbowing him in the side to get him to stop laughing.

“I don’t have time for this. Fix this.” Rowan waved his arms around at the massive blow-up castle, and then he turned around to find something he could actually focus on, trying his best to ignore the increasingly greying clouds in the sky.

“You still paying?” Lorcan called after him.

He let out a string of curses. “Yes.”

Rowan just barely heard the sound of air being let out of the castle as he walked away.

***

A shriek drew Rowan’s attention away from the chairs he was unfolding. He turned towards the gazebo to see Lysandra throw a small ice bucket, mostly filled with water at this point, at the screen Rowan had set up earlier.

The screen that was on fire.

Running in to help, Rowan saw that the candles placed around it had been lit—why the hell would someone already light them? The wind must’ve blown the screen too close causing it to catch fire.

He reached Lysandra just as she threw another bucket of icy water on the screen, dousing the rest of the flames.

“Are you okay?” He looked over Lysandra, but she just seemed shocked and irritated.

“I’m fine.” She gave him a reassuring nod before scowling at the destroyed screen. “This, though, is pretty much dead.” she sighed and closed her laptop she was using to work on the slideshow. “It doesn’t look like we’ll be showing pictures today, Rowan.”

He rubbed at his face. Fine. Okay. He could deal with this. They had a children’s bounce house and no slideshow. That was fine. As long as nothing else went wrong, he could deal with it.

As if in response to his thought, the day began to dim as clouds moved to cover the sun. If Rowan didn’t look at the heavy clouds, they would disappear.

That was when Fenrys came back with the cake.

***

“Alien?! I can’t give my girlfriend a birthday cake that’s calling her an Alien!”

Fenrys almost wanted to laugh at how ridiculous Rowan looked with his hair sticking up and face all red, but he knew this was just the latest in a list of ‘things gone wrong’ and was worried that if he laughed then he wouldn’t live to see the birthday girl.

“Maybe she’ll find it funny,” Fenrys suggested.

Rowan slowly turned toward him with an almost crazed look in his eye. “Funny? You think Aelin will find all this,” he waved his hands at the deflating bounce house, charred hanging screen, and the horribly incorrect cake, “Funny?”

“...Maybe?” Honestly, Fenrys thought Aelin would find it all hilarious but decided to keep his mouth shut. He knew how much work and energy Rowan put into this party, and he worried for his friend’s mental state as he counted all the things that had already gone wrong.

Rowan just dropped his head in his hands and groaned.

***

As soon as Rowan unpacked the last of the food, he heard a boom of thunder.

“This is not happening.” He muttered to himself, refusing to look at what was surely the worst thing that could happen that day.

A moment later he heard the unmistakable sound of hard, fast rain. The yelps from his friends broke him out of his haze and he turned to see everyone rush into the covered gazebo, careful to keep close to the center where they could stay dry.

Everyone besides Yrene, who had been helping Rowan with the food, were varying levels of soaked. And all the decorations they’d been holding were either stuck outside taking the worst of the rain or dragged inside to drip water onto the floor.

Rowan didn’t say anything, he just grabbed the beer bottle out of Aedion’s hand and took a long swig.

***

Looking around, Rowan surveyed the damage. Where a nice balloon canopy should’ve been positioned, a large, deflated, child’s bounce castle stood in its place; the screen he was going to use to show a slideshow of Aelin was burnt to a crisp; the rain pouring down was soaking the park and wrecking everything brought in from the cars, and the perfect cake for his girlfriend was ruined by calling her Alien.

But at least all their friends showed up.

That was the one good thing to come out of this disaster of a party. Even if they were all dripping wet and shivering from their walks from their cars to the covered gazebo in the middle of the park.

Dorian walked up to where Rowan and Aedion were talking about the cousin’s lunch. He took a sip of his drink and asked them, “So, what time is Aelin is getting here?”

Rowan and Aedion both turned towards each other.

“What time did you—”

“When did you say—”

They both froze.

Rowan slowly blinked. “Aedion, you did tell Aelin what time to come tonight, right?”

Aedion shook his head, wincing, “No, man. I was taking her out to lunch. You were supposed to find a reason to get her to the park.”

A dull roaring started in Rowan’s head. He thought over everything he had on his list.

Rent out gazebo: Check.

Delegate decorations: unsuccessful, but Check.

Order cake: again, unsuccessful, but Check.

Get friends to show up: Check.

Buy Aelin’s present: Check

Invite Aelin…

“Fuck. Shit. Fuck me. No, no, no, no, no… Gods damn it!”

Before anyone could another word, Rowan pulled his keys from his pocket and sprinted into the rain towards his car.

***

Aelin loved her birthday.

Usually.

She loved celebrating with her friends and laughing about the stupid gag gift they bought her. She loved making a wish on her candles and she even loved the awkward minute of listening to people sing happy birthday.

Last year, Rowan had woken her up to a particularly amazing round of birthday sex. Which turned into another round in the kitchen and then another one in the shower. He had also spent the day last year doing her favorite things and ending the night with a wonderful dinner at her favorite restaurant.

Which was why she had been so excited to see what this birthday would bring.

Her morning began exactly how she hoped: with Rowan’s tongue between her legs. He’d woken her up slowly, lazily, until she was squirming on the sheets with her hand fisted in his hair.

She’d hoped their morning tumble was the start of a very satisfying day, but soon afterward Rowan left saying he had to make a work call and she should get ready for her lunch with Aedion.

As much as she loved her cousin, all Aelin really wanted to do was stay inside with Rowan all day, clothing-optional. Actually, clothing-nonexistent.

But she did want to see Aedion, and apparently, Rowan’s work call was pressing enough that he practically ran out the door.

Lunch was nice. She hadn’t had one-on-one time with Aedion in a while, but she couldn’t help but notice how antsy he seemed.

“What aren’t you telling me?” She asked him after the waiter took their set down their drinks.

Her cousin choked on the sip he’d taken, and she raised an eyebrow at him.

“What?” He sputtered. “I’m not not telling you anything.”

“Uh huh.”

He rolled his eyes. “There’s nothing Ae, don’t sweat it.”

“It looks like you’re the one sweating Aedion.” Leaning back in her chair she smirked and crossed her arms. “Did you get me something you’re worried I won’t like?” she joked.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, exactly! Lysandra picked it out but I don’t know if you’ll like it.”

Aelin rolled her eyes at her cousin. “Please, if Lys picked out whatever it is, then I’m sure I’ll love it.” Her smirk turned into a genuine smile. “But, it’s from you so I know I’ll like it.”

He laughed but she thought he still looked a bit anxious. Deciding not to worry about whatever else had him fidgety, she let it go.

When she got back to her and Rowan’s apartment, she expected he would be there. He wasn’t.

Aelin didn’t think a work call would take the two hours she’d been out with Aedion, so she hoped Rowan would be back soon. She hadn’t talked about plans today because last year he had been so eager to take the lead.

So she waited.

And waited.

Three hours later she was irate, hurt, and confused. How could he just up and disappear on her birthday? If he was busy—if something came up that he needed to deal with—he should’ve just told her. She still would be upset, but she’d have understood.

But he hadn’t said anything. He hadn’t called or texted. Rowan hadn’t given her any explanation as to why she was alone now on her birthday.

Aelin walked into the kitchen and was about to pour herself a glass of wine when she heard loud noises from the hall outside her apartment door. It sounded like heavy, stampeding footsteps.

And then Rowan was bursting into their apartment.

He was breathing heavily, soaking wet, and looking at her with such an apologetic expression that she momentarily forgot why she was angry.

“Aelin,” he panted, trying to get a breath, “I am so sorry.”

Right. That was why she was angry.

She crossed her arms over her chest and took in his disheveled appearance, trying desperately to understand why he was so out of sorts.

“What happened to you?”

Rowan loosed a long, heavy breath and stepped closer to her. “Aelin, gods, I’m an idiot.”

“Yes, you are.” She agreed. “But, explain to me why.”

Rowan took another step towards her and she let him.

“I had a whole thing planned— I still do, kind of, but it’s basically ruined at this point—” Rowan started talking faster and Aelin struggled to keep up. “I planned an amazing surprise party for you, I spent weeks getting things organized. I had all our friends come out to help, they’re all still out at the park—I rented out the park—they’d better all still be there, anyway.”

He took a breath and Aelin’s anger slowly started to fade, but then she remembered sitting alone in her apartment for three hours and stared at him until he continued his explanation.

“There were supposed to be balloons, golden ones! And photos of you, and a cake, but all of it got ruined.” Rowan ran an angry hand through his hair. “Lorcan thought I asked him for a bounce castle�� a bounce castle! Then the screen caught on fire, and then there was a mess up with the cake that you don’t even want to know about.”

He finally looked back at her, pleadingly, hoping she could understand how sorry he was. “But the worst part, which was one-hundred-percent my fault, was that I forgot to invite you to your own party.”

Aelin was wide-eyed by the end of his speech. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

Rowan grabbed her hand and looked down at her with sorry eyes. “Please, forgive me.”

“Forgive you?”

His face crumpled and he leaned to press it into her shoulder. She heard him grumble, “Fuck. I ruined your birthday, I’m so sorry.”

Aelin pulled away to hold his face between her hands. She waited until his eyes opened to say, “Rowan, you planned that whole thing? For me?”

His brow furrowed as if he couldn’t understand why she would ask that. “Of course, I did. I know how much you wanted a surprise party, but—”

“But nothing.” She cut him off pressing her mouth firmly against his. Rowan was too surprised at her reaction to reciprocate, but she pulled back just as fast.

“Okay, yes, not inviting me to my own party was a bad move,” He winced. “But, everything else you did was amazing.” When he still looked skeptically at her she continued, “the rest of that stuff; the weather, the cake, the fire, Lorcan’s bad judgment—none of that was your fault.”

Rowan finally cracked a smile at the last bit.

“So,” he searched her face for any clues, “you’re not upset?”

Aelin laughed at pulled Rowan down for another kiss. This time, he eagerly returned it and wrapped one arm around her waist and the other moved so his hand could hold the back of her head. They stood wrapped up in each other for a minute, deepening the kiss before they both pulled back for air.

“I’m not mad. I was, before when I thought you’d ditched me on my birthday. But I’m not anymore now that I know you spent the day trying to make me happy."

Aelin pulled back further to give him a stern look. “But I will be angry if you don’t bring me to this party right now.”

He pulled her back into him and let out a relieved laugh.

“Let’s get the birthday girl to her party.”

***

The drive from their apartment to the park was filled with Rowan telling Aelin about everything that had gone wrong. His fingers intertwined with her over the middle console and she listened as he told her about the crazy day.

“Why someone would light the candles so early in the day is beyond me.” He grumbled and Aelin chuckled at the bitterness in his tone.

“I’m sure the slideshow would’ve been great.” She perked up. “Oh my gods, that was why Aedion was so weird at lunch.”

Rowan glanced side longed at her. “He was weird?”

“Yeah, real fidgety, wouldn’t always look me in the eye. He said it was because he was worried I wouldn’t like my present, but I knew that was a load of bullshit.” She laughed, remembering how relived his face had been when she offered that excuse.

Rowan rolled his eyes but watched as the sky began to clear.

“Good, the rains finally stopping. I told the others to finish putting up decorations if the weather cleared.”

“There’s more?” Aelin questioned, thinking of everything he’d already told her about.

“A bit. I gave Fen a list of stuff to buy, but knowing him, he picked up some things that I didn’t tell him to. So, who knows what we’ll see when we get there.” He groaned thinking about it, but Aelin just laughed.

“It’s a couple of decorations, Ro. I’m sure they’ve got it handled.”

When they finally pulled into the parking lot nearest the gazebo, Aelin and Rowan didn’t get out of the cart immediately. They watched the scene in front of them in bewilderment

Lorcan was throwing a rope over a tree branch—Aelin assumed it was because he was the tallest—tying one end to the trunk and the other end was attached to a large pinata.

“Is that…?” She was so confused about what was happening.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Fen?” Rowan seethed.

“Fen did that? Why would Fenrys buy an Alien pinata?” Aelin suddenly had more questions than answers.

Rowan rubbed his hands down his face, muffling his curses.

“Don’t ask.”

Aelin watched as Aedion picked up the stick and took a couple of practice swings.

“What? They’re gonna start without us?” Aelin pulled Rowan’s hand off his face and made him look at her. “Hey. I know this didn’t go like you’d planned, but it's still pretty great, and everyone is here and having a good time. And there’s cake, right?”

“There’s cake.”

Rowan refrained from reminding her that all the guests had trekked in and out of the rain that afternoon setting up and half the supplies were ruined or nonexistent. Apparently, she could see all that in his face though so Aelin leaned over and kissed him.

“Let’s go, come on.”

At some point during their conversation, Lysandra had found the blindfold and tied it around Aedion’s head. The rest of the group, minus Manon and Dorian who had snuck off somewhere she didn’t want to think about too much, stood around as Fenrys cheered and Aedion swung.

He missed the first time, but as he prepped himself to swing again, Aelin and Rowan climbed out of the car and walked toward the group.

“Aelin!” Fenrys called, eyes going wide as he called her name.

Everyone else whipped around to face her and Rowan and yell “Surprise!”

Unfortunately, Aedion still had a stick in his hands; and he quickly turned, it nailed Fenrys in the head.

Rowan stood there gaping as Fenrys let out a loud sound between a yelp and a groan, before falling to the ground, knocked out.

“Shit! Who’d I hit?” Aedion asked as he ripped off the blindfold, and tuned to see what—or, who—exactly he had swung at.

Mostly in shock, a little bit in amusement, everyone watched as Fenrys slowly groaned, lifted his head only to wince and bring his hand up to hold it, and opened his eyes.

“…Surprise”

***

“You know, this may be my most memorable birthday.” Aelin was perched on Rowan’s lap, eating a piece of the outer space-themed cake.

Her boyfriend groaned and pressed his face into her shoulder.

“I’ll take it. Memorable is better than disastrous.”

She threw her head back and laughed.

After Fenrys woke up, Yrene came over to check on him and make sure he was going to be alright. She didn’t think he had a concussion, but she put Aedion in charge of watching him. His punishment, apparently. They were currently at another table with Lysandra, Lorcan, and Elide.

Aelin looked over to the other end of the gazebo and watched as Chaol and Yrene sat with Dorian and Manon, the latter was trying her best to pretend she was interested in the conversation. By the heated looks she and Dorian were giving each other, Aelin didn’t think those two would be sticking around too long.

Turning back to Rowan, Aelin smiled.

“Thank you, Buzzard. I love it.” She grinned as he rolled his eyes, but he tightened his grip on her and pulled her face down to his.

“Happy Birthday, Fireheart.”

*****

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avengerscompound · 4 years ago

Text

Small Gods: Patience - 2

Patience: A Black Widow Fanfic

Patience Masterlist | More Small Gods PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 1885

Warnings: Language

Synopsis: Every day Natasha prays for more patience to deal with a litany of things from waiting for her target to make a move - to not yelling at Clint for putting empty milk containers back in the fridge.

When her prayers are answered, Natasha finds that having patience is easy, holding on to it is a little harder.

Chapter 2

Natasha sat in the dark and noisy bar waiting for you to show up. She’d chosen a booth up the back and she’d been trying to not attract any unwanted attention. You were late. She should have expected that given who you were. Still, as she sat waiting, she started to wonder what the hell she was doing. It was bad enough that she had to sit patiently waiting for criminals to reveal themselves for her job, did she really want to intentionally cause herself this kind of irritation?

She finished her beer and looked over to the bar, debating with herself whether she should get up and get another drink. You were leaning on a bar stool, one foot propped up on the crossbar, and leaning forward as you spoke to the bartender. He went to fix your drink, a flirtatious smile on his face, and you turned to Natasha and winked at her.

The frustration Natasha felt was almost overwhelming. In just about any other circumstance she’d storm off. She was not one to be kept waiting, and she definitely wasn’t one for playing these kinds of games. Well, at least not from the position she was in now - she’d certainly been the one flirting with the bartender while her date waited for her before. The question of who or what you were was too great though, so she stayed put - waiting for an answer.

When the bartender served you your drinks you brought them over with a number for the table and slid into the booth beside Natasha. “Waiting long?” You asked as you pushed one of the drinks over to her. She knew what it was even before she smelt the coffee liqueur and she rolled her eyes.

“You know I have,” she said. “And I don’t appreciate it when people order my drinks without checking with me first.”

“Oh come on,” you teased. “It’s a Black Russian. At least appreciate the pun.”

She shook her head and lifted the glass, taking a sip. It was annoying that she didn’t actually hate the cocktail because it was a joke she’d had repeated on her more times than she could count. “You’re really…” She started and cut herself off.

“What?” You laughed. “Am I testing your patience?”

Natasha gave you a look that would normally level a man, but it just made you laugh harder. The knife she kept tucked in her boot was becoming very tempting.

“I ordered some starters. Just one of those sample plates. I wasn’t sure if we were eating, or going somewhere else to eat. Or just drinking. Or you just wanted to give me the third degree,” you babbled. “I’m hungry though. So I needed the starters.”

“Who are you?” Natasha snapped, cutting you off.

“I already told you,” you said, taking a sip of your cocktail.

“But what does that mean exactly?” Natasha asked. “How can you be patience?”

“Yeah, I suppose that’s not fair. I’m not actually patience. I just wield it. Just as Thor wields a storm,” you explained.

“Then why do I want to strangle you so badly right now?” Natasha asked.

You laughed again, this time nearly spitting your drink out on her. “I like it better when people beg me,” you said, sitting forward in your seat a little. “Besides - you’re still here aren’t you?”

“Barely,” Natasha snarked.

You laughed and held out your hand, palm up to her. “Oh, you want the part where you don’t feel annoyed, huh?”

Natasha looked at your hand for a moment, debating with herself whether she should take it. Slowly she lifted her hand and placed it in yours. You closed your fingers and pressed down softly on the back of her hand. “Close your eyes,” you said. Natasha narrowed her eyes at you before closing them. “Deep breath in, and then out again.”

Natasha did as she was instructed, first taking a deep breath in, and slowly releasing it. It was something people always told her to do, and while it often helped to focus her mind and still her nerves, it had never quite relaxed her the way it did right now. It was like all the anger and annoyance she had about having to wait and not knowing what was going on, just melted away.

Her fingers linked with yours reflexively and she opened her eyes. “So you’re a god?” She asked.

You shrugged. “I guess that’s what you’d call me. But I was never really worshipped like a lot of the others. People always took me for granted.”

“How old are you?” Natasha asked. It was hard to believe you were a god, not looking the way you did. Yes, she knew her very own deities who could pass for men in their thirties, and yes, she looked a lot younger than her actual years - you were different. You fit into the world in the way Thor or Steve struggled with. You drew just enough attention to be considered cool, but not enough to be considered out of place.

You shrugged. “I don’t really know.” You took a sip of your drink while you considered the question. “Time is tricky. The further you are from when something started the harder it is to hold on to. Sometimes I feel like I remember a time before man, but then… that … consciousness doesn’t feel familiar.”

Natasha blinked at you in disbelief. Thor had an age. He claimed it was fifteen hundred years old, which didn’t make a lot of sense as the stories that featured him predated that, but at least it gave a wheelhouse for the length of time he’d existed. Maybe three thousand and fifteen hundred just felt the same when you were that old, or perhaps an Asgardian year just lasted twice as long as an Earth one. You on the other hand were talking about true immortality. A being that predated human evolution.

“How… how… how?” Natasha stammered, gesturing to you. “How do you look like that and speak like you do when Thor speaks like he just stepped out of ye olde England. And … how do you look like us if you were here before us?”

You downed the last of your drink. “Asgardians live in a bubble world of their own. Their technology is stuck in a point that is both somehow advanced to ours and behind ours all at once. I change because I live here, where everyone’s life spans are tiny and if I don’t keep up people accuse me of witchcraft and try to burn me at the stake. I can’t answer the other part. I don’t remember not existing, but I don’t remember when I started existing either. I just… am. I know I’ve changed over time. But I don’t know how or why. All I know for sure is that I can patiently wait it out and that if I want, I can grant that ability to other people too.”

The waiter came over, put your appetizers on your table, and took the empty bottle and glasses away. Natasha looked at the bar longingly. “I think I need another drink.”

“Go on,” you said. “I can wait.”

“Can I get you something?” She asked.

You took a jalapeño popper and turned it around in your hand. “Yes, please. An orgasm.” Natasha looked at you deadpan and you bit back a laugh. “Over ice please.”

Natasha shook her head and approached the bar. She ordered herself another beer and gave the bartender a look that dared him to make any kind of remark about the cocktail you’d asked for. As he poured the drinks, she looked over the food menu, trying to decide what she was actually doing here. She wished Thor was on Earth so she could run things by him. She was interested in this whole god thing, but she was more interested in why you’d come to her.

You had been flirting. Natasha could pick up even the most subtle of flirtations, it was what she’d been trained for, and the cocktail order had been as far from subtle as you could get. You weren’t only flirting though, and that was where Natasha was getting stuck. You didn’t seem to want help with anything, and if you did, you were living up to your powers by dragging it out. What had attracted you to her?

The bartender put the drinks in front of her as a couple of people at the other end of the bar started yelling to get his attention. “Did you want to order food?” he asked in a flustered tone.

Natasha shook her head and put some cash on the bar in front of him. “Keep the change,” she said, and head back to you.

“Can I ask you a question?” She said.

“That’s why I’m here,” you answered, taking your drink from her.

“If you can grant patience to people, why don’t you?” Natasha asked. “I mean, look around, there are people at the bar yelling to get served. The women in the line to the bathroom look like they’re going to explode, and those men at that table are one more disagreement away from starting a bar fight.”

You let out a huff. “Whatever it is I am, I need people to pray to me - I guess that’s right. There have been times where I’ve thought I’d be infinitely kind and allow everyone who had required patience to have it, but then they stop sending out to the universe that they need it, and I start to fade. It’s a bit of a weird loop though because then they need it again, and I come back.”

Natasha blinked at you as she absorbed what you said. “That’s…”

“Weird,” you agreed. “Yeah. So… it suits me best to just let people be. Let them have their feelings. That’s why I’m here. New York is fantastic for people wishing for the patience to get through their day.”

“And that’s why you came to me? Because I’m always praying for patience?” Natasha asked.

“It’s what made me notice you,” you said with a smirk.

“So… what then?” Natasha asked. “Why are we here?”

“Well,” you said. “Here I am, older than I even know. Existing in a world of temporary things that do not understand me if I reveal myself to them. And then things start getting weird. People show up who can’t seem to die with superhuman abilities. The Norse gods return. People start accepting stranger and stranger things. And there is this one person who just runs with whatever is being thrown at her. Never questioning - just accepting. And she calls out to me.”

Natasha tilted her head and a smile slowly crossed her lips. “You were lonely?”

You shrugged and curled in on yourself, and for the first time since she met you, you looked scared. Natasha downed the last of her drink quickly and stood up. “Do you want to get out of here?”

You smiled up at her and nodded. “I really would.”

Natasha took your hand and led you out of the bar. She might not understand patience, but she knew how it felt to be lonely. Maybe you could teach each other something new after all.

// NEXT

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #small gods #patience

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el-255 · 3 years ago

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What sort of benders ( from atla) I believe the Ericson students would be:

Louis: Louis would definitely be a kickass earthbender who totally uses his bending to prank people I will not be convinced otherwise

He and Mitch have earthbending competitions all the time (which he always loses but of course he only does that to prevent Willy from the disappointment of watching his brother lose, it’s definitely the only reason why he loses)

Violet definitely calls him out on that bullshit

Also his colour coordination just gives me earthbender vibes ;) the green and brown combo is just *chefs kiss*

Violet: she feels like she could be a really cool airbender; her airbending would help carry her to the watchtower and she would definitely use it to pull peoples chairs out from under them-

She’d use her bending as an extension to her body and to her it feels natural to use it in her day to day life

She’s also used the trick that the red lotus used on the earth queen before (she definitely used it on Louis and he definitely still gets pissy over it) I mean hey, if the others are allowed to use their bending however they want to she should as well

Marlon didn’t see it that way though and promptly banned her from using her bending on people which was complete bullshit in her eyes

Marlon: it feels cliche to say but I’d go with firebender

Not because of his anger issues mainly but more of the fact that I get the feeling he would hide it when he had his shit together like using it more subtly but as soon as things don’t seem to go his way his bending erupts into a full blown fire that takes a while to extinguish

I wouldn’t put it past him to have used his bending subtly to scare Brody into submission, she definitely has some burn scars from his anger

Mitch: gives me full earthbender vibes

He’s a complete gremlin with his skills as well as he pulls out bits of the earth to use for his knife carving, he teaches Willy to do it the same way as well

One time he convinced Omar that earthbenders could consume dirt for nutrition (which was definitely a lie but he wanted to have fun with his bending and Omar was an easy target) and promptly pulled some out and ate a bunch of it front of the horrified Omar

He was sick for 3 days after the dirt incident and the only ones who know that it was a lie are Willy and Louis who are all too conniving to ever breathe a word about it to anyone else; Omar still can’t look him in the eye it’s great

In a fight Mitch uses dirty (no pun intended) tricks and strategies to gain the upper hand, pulling out the earth in front of people to trip them up, trapping people in a concrete prison, it’s all the same to Mitch who simply believes in the philosophy of survival of the fittest

Aasim: it’d be a crime not to say he was a firebender after he canonically went to ericson for arson-

He rarely uses his bending as he simply sees no need to show off unlike Louis and Mitch who can’t go five seconds without bringing something up from the earth

I get the feeling he’d only really use his bending for emergencies, he’s more in control of his bending than Marlon is as he was practically reformed when the apocalypse started

He totally feels a connection to Ruby as they’re both unconventional firebenders

Brody: I get the feeling she’s a waterbender who lacks control because of her anxiety and her guilty conscience

Before the deal with the twins Brody loved her bending, every time she’d go fishing at the river she’d pick out bubbles of water; it was her way of escaping from the walkers and survival for a few minutes

Violet of course loudly complained whenever she saw Brody using her bending when she should’ve been fishing but in a way that was another thing that drew them apart, Violet could never understand her fascination with a bunch of water

After that day with the twins Brody completely shut herself off from her bending, every time she saw water all she could see were her friends terrified faces as she stood by and watched them get taken away by that man, her bending caused her nothing but pain after that

Violet was concerned when one day Brody’s fascination with the river stopped but was too embarrassed to ever show her concern (in hindsight she wishes she had said something to her clearly distraught friend)

Tenn: Tenn strikes me as a non bender who’s mainly content to have it that way, why have bending himself when he can simply observe other people’s bending?

Every so often he’ll ask one of the kids to show him their bending and though some may be more hesitant than others, they all do it because, let’s be real, Tenn doesn’t ask for a lot and most of them are happy to show off anyways

Though Tenn loves all his friends bending skills, Violet’s bending is his absolute favourite, he spends many evenings in her room watching her manipulate the air around her

Something about the way she expertly moves the air in the vicinity brings him peace that he so rarely gets to bask in

Though he may have fantasised about having bending skills in the past, he’s seen the way some of his friends struggle to cope with their bending e.g. Marlon, Tenn knows he would prefer to be a non bender and content with that than have bending he has little control over

(However, if he had to pick he’d choose to be a waterbender; he used to love how carefree Brody used to look showing him her skills before she stopped)

Omar: a very subtle waterbender, he only really uses it for his cooking and that’s the way he wants to keep it

Fighting has never really been his strong suit, in his eyes it’s better to not get too reliant on his bending in an almost opposite view to how Mitch uses his bending

It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate his abilities but more that he feels he lacks the capabilities others have in terms of their bending skills

He does however have a particular skill in creating ice that he uses in the summer to make sure their water is always cool

Ruby: while some may peg her as a waterbender with exceptional skills in healing, I think her personality better fits a firebender

She still has her talents in healing and is similar to tlok and the firebender who healed korra, having the ability to help her fellow peers when they need it makes her feel more important and helpful

She learned how to use her firebending to heal people from Ms. Martin who, while a waterbender herself, saw the potential in Ruby and taught her the essentials for healing and gave her the courage to pursue her healing talents

Willy: earthbender who uses similar tactics as Mitch

Willy was ecstatic when he learned Mitch was also an earthbender and spends most of his time learning from his pseudo brother figure, in his eyes it’s just another way he and Mitch are similar

He gets especially excited whenever Tenn asks to see his bending and uses it as an opportunity to see how far he’s come from his big brothers guidance

Willy feels a connection to his bending in a way that he’s never felt towards anything in his life, his only constant before ericson was how close a bond he felt towards nature and he never takes that for granted

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a-bugz-life · 4 years ago

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Fuckin’ Amphibians || Anita & Nicodemus

TIMING: A few days ago. PARTIES: @professoranieves and @bountybossier SUMMARY: Anita and Nic are both out in the forest when they run across some Ballogbogs. Things get a bit psychedelic.

Anita had lived in White Crest for almost five years now. When she first arrived, she knew of a handful of supernatural beings, but her worldview expanded exponentially even within the first few months of living here. It didn’t hurt that she spent a lot of her time in the woods, mostly for the bugs partially for the isolation. But even in her years of experience, she apparently still had more to learn. In her exploring, she found herself near a small pond out in the forest. Perfect place for some interesting breeds of bugs. But then she saw them, very large and very gross looking toads. She didn’t think much of it, toads love bugs too. But as she drew closer to the pond she noticed one of the toads puff up, and then shoot something at her. “Shit, shit…” She groaned, as she tried to run before it hit her. But she wasn’t so successful. Initially she didn’t feel much of anything, and thought for a second maybe she was immune to whatever this was. But then the leaves on the trees began turning pink? And the ground began to slowly melt under her feet? No, something wasn’t quite right.

The place farthest away from the lake was the woods on damn near the other side of town. In between trying to figure out any thing that might help deal with the fucking squid, Nicodemus went about business as usual. Took up a job and saw it to completion. Traditionally, he wasn’t picky about jobs that demanded a bounty dead or alive. He took whichever. But lately, he wasn’t in the mind for killing. Just a catch and release to the shadow paying him. The task of catching a handful of fatflitters was just mundane enough that he didn’t expect to be bothered too much. The hunter tapped his fingers against his thumb as he walked, a small perforated cage in his other hand. The things were quick and liked their fatty tissue, so it was just a matter of finding the right tracks of a larger creature and hoping the quick shits were on it. The croak of toads sounded loudly to his left and he briefly looked over in that direction. Over the sound of toads, a voice. A voice that sounded a hell of a lot more bothered than he did. The hunter considered just keeping on the way he was and even as he did, he was already heading over to the noise. As he drew closer and his night vision made out the shape of a person, he looked over at the pond. Oh hell. Fucking ballybogs. They didn’t like when anyone got too close to their little domains. And it looked like the stranger had found that out. He cleared his throat to try and get her attention. “You, uh, you good?”

For a split second Anita thought she saw a person approaching, but it quickly became clear to her that this was no person, but rather a very tall and mobile ice cream cone. Interesting. It was rocky road, which wasn’t her favorite flavor. No pun intended but she really wasn’t a fan of nuts. But then the strangest thing happened, the ice cream spoke to her? No that couldn’t be. She slowly got closer to it, trying to figure out if maybe someone was just standing behind it? But no, just one singular cone of ice. “You can talk?” She asked, the disbelief thick in her voice. She sat down on the ground in front of the ice cream and dropped her head into her hands. “This ice cream cannot talk to me. This ice cream cannot talk to me.” She whispered, then rubbed her eyes and looked back up. “Fuck.” It was still an ice cream cone.

She was looking at him like she wasn’t really seeing him. Nicodemus squinted. Ballybogs made homes out of the swamps he grew up in and he had seen people when they got hit by their shit. Woodstock had nothing on what ballybog crap could do to a person. Once, a few years ago, not even he had escaped it and he was stuck trying to hop into the Mystery Machine that had just been a hollow log. The shame of that still haunted him sometimes. Fucking Scrappy Doo. “Yeah, I can talk,” he answered with a sigh. Damn it. He just wanted to find some damn fatflitters. Not this mess. When she sat down, he stepped back and put a hand on his hip. Oh hell. “This, uh, ice cream is fuckin’ talking to you. That’s me, one big damn waffle cone.” Alright, so she was seeing him as an ice cream cone. Maybe she wouldn’t feel like attacking him. He glanced down at her. “And I might be able to waffle us the fuck outta here.”

Anita was shocked when the guy? Yeah, sounded like a guy, seemed to respond to her delusions … and knew that he was a waffle cone? Anita stood up, eyeing the frosty treat with delicate suspicion. But it was almost as though the moment that he acknowledged that he was in fact a waffle cone, things began to shift. Anita began to hear odd voices coming from all around her in the forest. They weren’t speaking any language she understood, but something told her they were not nice voices. Suddenly, the nice ice cream cone began to melt, causing large puddles of melted chocolate ice cream. “Oh no.. oh my god… here let me help.” Anita tried to scoop up the puddles of ice cream and put it all back into the cone. “We can’t get out of here until I fix you… I can’t just leave you here for them to get you.”

Her eyes, large and confused, were directly on him and Nicodemus couldn’t help but feel a little scrutinized. Waffle cone or not. Jesus, he was starting to refer to himself as a waffle cone. Maybe he had been hit too. When she started to try and put dead leaves, plus bits of grass on him, he decidedly was not feeling like a waffle cone. “Alright, no need to go and do that,” he asserted as he took a step back. “Think you’re the one needin’ help here.” Surely someone else would come along and help. People in town had a habit of running headlong into shit every day. As he waited for a beat, a ballybog croak answered him. Fuck. He was the person that had run headlong into shit. And she had too. “Let’s get the hell on outta here, huh? I think somethin’ nearby is causin’ me to--fuckin’ Christ--melt my ice creamy bits all over the place.” He winced and shook his head. He was a hunter, for fucks sake. With a reserved expression, he offered a weathered hand. “Name’s Nic, alright? Let’s get on away from the fuckin’ acid trip frogs.”

Anita had been ignoring his claim that he didn’t need help getting all of the ice cream back into his cone, largely because that was just insane? Why wouldn’t a giant cone of ice cream want all of it’s contents securely inside of itself before running off? But then he finally offered a real reason. He was melting because of something nearby! Of course! Quickly, she stood up and stopped scooping up the ice cream melted in giant sticky puddles on the ground around them. Anita reached out to take the cone’s hand, finding it a bit odd that he had hands to begin with. “Nic the Ice Cream Man.” She repeated, clearly making up those last three words herself. His comment about frogs threw her for a loop. She had heard stories about supernatural frogs. As she was just about to open her mouth and say something, she saw all of the ice cream quickly melt away from Nic and the cone break off into a million tiny pieces. That’s when she realized that he really wasn’t an ice cream man… he had been a giant toad in disguise all along. She let out a soft scream, then quickly pulled her hand away from him. “You! You’re the acid trip frog!” Without paying much attention to where she was going, she began to slowly back away from him.

Nicodemus breathed in sharply through his nose, thankful as hell that she had stopped trying to help get his ice cream back together. Jesus, he was already in too deep with the ice cream bit. It was too much and he can feel a nerve pulsing somewhere near his temple. He shook her hand a bit stiffly. “Just, uh, Nic works,” he said. “The...Ice Cream Man is my father?” Whoever the hell that was. He had never met the poor bastard. And just when it had all been going so well, she looked at him like he was coming apart at the seams. Hell, he just might have been. Ballybogs spat serious shit and she had been hit with it. His hand clenched by his side before it came up to pinch the bridge of his nose. She was backpedaling towards the ballybogs again and he could see the damn things puffing up. He moved toward her and attempted to act as a buffer between. Like a dumbass would. “No. Nope, I’m not the acid trip fr--Oh fuck.” The ballybogs spat and Nicodemus blocked his hand with his face. He blinked twice, squeezed them shut, then opened his eyes to see his hands melting. His ice creamy hands with weirdly frog-like fingers but hey, he had been born with those. He stared at them for what felt like a century. “I...I think I am the ice cream frog,” he said as he looked at her. “And we gotta get out of my fuckin’ swamp.”

As the giant ice cream began to move towards Anita, she began to panic. How was she going to get out of here? She didn’t even know where here was anymore. Had she hiked here? Was her car nearby? Could she even drive like this? Unlikely. She heard a faint noise from beside her and while it took her a moment to place it, she eventually recognized it. Amphibians. And this ice cream frog was likely their king. Of course the dumb fucking amphibians still had a monarcy system. Reptiles had evolved beyond that need of hierarchy. “If you’re the ice cream frog… can’t you just make them stop! They’ll listen to you. Amphibians are really dumb.”

“Reckon they want us to move away from the party we weren’t invited to,” Nicodemus said as if it were obvious and it was. He could understand them. He splayed his hands out to his side, ice cream and all, in a sign of submission. They could respect that. “Partners. Fellas. We’re just gonna hit the, uh, old dusty trail now as it were. Didn’t mean to bother you fine folks this evenin’.” He made a sound as close to a frog as he could before he turned on his heel and took to walking away. He turned his head toward the stranger and spoke in a stage whisper. “They might not be bright but they like bein’ respected. Let’s just go on elsewhere.”

Anita watched the frog’s leader try to talk them down, finding the level of kindness he was showing them to be more than a bit annoying. In fact she might have rolled her eyes at his big performance, or maybe she just thought about rolling her eyes and actually didn’t move at all? It was really hard to tell. So she tried again, feeling pretty confident that she did this time roll her eyes and not just roll her head around in a circular motion. “Of course they’re not bright,” Anita quickly replied, not bothering to follow suit and speak in a whisper. “Why would I want to go anywhere with you? You’re like their leader or something stupid.” Despite her resistance, Anita followed this strange somewhat suave smooth-speaking ice cream man. At least wherever he was going was away from here, and away from those fucking frogs.

#wickedswriting #fuckin amphibans #chatzy #nic #chatzy:nic #//did we start this 6 months ago???? yes #//did we finish it today????? yes #pls enjoy

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redwoodrroad · 4 years ago

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where did you get the idea that it’s part of norn culture to demoralize women

Here’s the thing: This is the sort of thing you pick up around NPCs in the game, and it’s something that I’ve decided is worth an essay. Norn men tend to fall into a category of hypermasculinity--they’re loud, they’re stubborn, they’re aggressive, and all Norn have massive complexes related to power and prestige, especially as applicable to the Hunt, etc. These traits may sometimes extend to Norn women, but they are emphasized in Norn men. I have actually included a read more at the end so I could offer some anecdotal examples, leaning on Braham, Eir, and Jora to discuss their actions throughout the game. For the moment, there are a couple of things I’d like to point out here: 1) these stores do not exist in a vacuum, they come from real life inspiration and experiences; 2) the Sons of Svanir didn’t invent the idea of hating women, it’s an idea that’s intersected with a yearn for power; and 3) Jormag also is not advocating for the demoralization of women, they also just want power.

First off, here’s something pretty key about this that my friend @jorasdottir brought up: Guild Wars and Guild Wars 2 do not exist in a vacuum. The culture that came up with Norn culture is a hypermasculine and hugely westernized culture. We see hypermasculinity all around us, and it exists in this game. I get into more of this later.

Second, the very fact that the Sons of Svanir are so anti-women doesn’t come from nowhere--you don’t just start systemically hating women because one woman killed someone; the Sons of Svanir were bourne from someone who already hated women but who found the justification for it by pinning all their anger on Jora partly out of their respect for Svanir. Not only that, but no one starts a whole movement of hating women by being alone either--one guy yelling in the street about how he hates Jora doesn’t start a movement, it’s something that several people would have to calculate. It’s also not all Jormag’s funny little whispers because if that was the case, we’d primarily see mindless Norn attacking you for not agreeing with them--in reality, the Sons of Svanir essentially have a motel built into Hoelbrak’s caves, and they got jackasses handing out fliers. They believe that women are not to be trusted, that they are weak-minded, and that they are not worthy of Jormag’s blessings in the same way that the Sons of Svanir are worthy of them.

Lastly, and to wrap up, if Jormag was only utilizing promises of power, the Sons of Svanir would not be willingly chilling (no pun intended) 100 feet away from Knut Whitebear, and Knut Whitebear wouldn’t be letting them stay there if they were visibly hostile. Jormag isn’t telling the Sons of Svanir to hate women, and Svanir himself didn’t represent all Norn men before he was killed--Jormag promised power to the few Norn who were already prescribed with larger yearns for power, and those Norn didn’t just happen to be men. These were men who themselves felt demoralized enough to want power. They must be competitive, reckless, untrusting of others, unempathetic, and selfish. It is not a coincidence that these qualities can become more intense in men--and this is something that extends past the walls of this game. This is what I meant when I said “we see hypermasculinity all around us.” These are the qualities of hypermasculinity--and sure, you can see all of these qualities in women too, in the real world and in the game, but it is not without purpose that these qualities apply to the most extreme members of Norn culture, in Norn men. There are also many essays that examine the intersection between sexism and power, it comes from a history of demoralizing women--yes, in the real world, but as I’ve established, these games were created by people who also live in the real world--and it’s honestly worth reading up about.

All of this is to say that Norn men didn’t just come up with hating women simply because of anything like Jormag’s influence or hating Jora, it must come from the culture. Norn culture involves seeking power. Power requires demoralizing others. Hypermasculinity in a culture that emphasizes power, legacy, prestige, etc. breeds otherism. Otherism causes a rift between those who deem themselves the most worthy of receiving power--those who have heightened traits of hypermasculinity, predominantly men, to include those who are extremely competitive--and those who they deem most unworthy of receiving power. If you’re a man and you’re experiencing otherism mixed with competition and other qualities of hypermasculinity, the subject of that otherism is most commonly women. When there are a lot of you who feel this way, you make a group because you may also in turn be rejected from the larger society for having these views. This is what leads to the creation of groups like the Sons of Svanir. This is why it is part of Norn culture to demoralize women. It’s not by any means a priority, it’s not a central quality of Norn culture, but it is part of the culture.

Obviously this is a lot to swallow, I’m sure you didn’t expect six paragraphs of Sociological perspective here, but hey! this is what I went to school for. I’m very passionate about this topic, so I’m glad you were inspired to ask! This also wasn’t meant to be preachy or condescending in any way, so I’m sorry if any of this might come across that way. If you’d like ask me anything else about my perspective on this type of thing, please feel free! Of course, thank you so much for reading all of this, and I hope you found it useful. Feel free to read some anecdotal evidence under the read more below; otherwise, take care! Let me know what you think!

For even just one example, remember how Braham acted towards us when we admitted we weren’t going to uphold Destiny’s Edge, that we thought it was more respectful to start Dragon’s Watch in her honor instead. Braham reacted by claiming it was not only unhonorable to her legacy but then turned on us while accusing us of letting her die, going against all the good terms we left him on during the Heart of Thorns campaign. In the caves during Season 3, he became more reckless than ever, newly obsessed with upholding his idea of her legacy by unearthing this scroll, right, and risking Rox’s life in the process. He didn’t even hold any remorse for her when she was in that ice--even after she was freed and brought back to proper health--and look, I’m not saying Braham is a bad person for acting this way. He was going through a really terrible mourning process after losing someone he only recently realized he still loved. Even so, this attitude was not something necessarily present in Eir, even though she was raised in the same community.

Eir wasn’t necessarily a nurturing person herself, but she didn’t have as extreme a version of those qualities as Braham--and if the implication during the Personal Story was that all the members of Destiny’s Edge were close close friends, having spent years fighting and traveling together, you’d think she’d be just as stubborn and reckless about Snaff’s death as Braham was about her own, later down the line. Instead, Eir drew into herself and stopped fighting dragons all together. When fighting with Zojja all those times we were there to witness it, she didn’t get aggressive, she got depressed; she didn’t blame Zojja or anyone else in defensiveness, even though Rytlock would be the first and loudest to blame Logan at the time, she maintained that she felt horrible for what had happened. She was full of remorse. It’s likely she had never experienced a level of remorse like that, and neither had Braham for losing Eir.

Now, this isn’t a perfect 1-to-1 comparison, but it’s pretty clear that it’s at least somewhat a pattern based on the fact that other major characters fall into these categories too: Svanir turned into a bear and went mad due to Jormag’s influence, that’s not necessarily his fault, but Jora chose to find another way to heal him or break him out of the curse. Only when she realized there was no other way did she decide she had to kill him--you can honestly ask jorasdottir more about this because she’s very knowledgeable about the whole affair--but if the theory is that all Norn, regardless of gender, should be the type to run in, guns (or, axes) blazing, in order to kill everything on sight, that would extend to Jora as well, right?

My point is that we have witnessed Norn men take extreme approaches to situations, especially in moments of high emotion, and we have witnessed Norn women take careful or even passive approaches to situations, likewise in moments of high emotion. I believe these anecdotes further emphasize my point here that some men in Norn culture may sometimes be raised to act differently and more aggressively than some women in Norn culture, even those within the same family. Again, thank you for reading!

#redwoods words #long post sorry #guild wars 2 #gw2

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trashmouuuth-blog · 5 years ago

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forgotten memories.

based on the comic by @/atxnolasco on twt!!

—

Richie never liked winter. It was probably his least favorite season out of all of them. The early nights, freezing temperatures, bare trees, and inability to do what it was he usually did. Perhaps the last time he recalls feeling excitement for the anticipated snow fall was when he was a child, hanging with his friends as they played in the mountains of snow, and scarily trudged over the frozen over river that ran through the barrens.

The crunching of snow beneath his sneakers, or the numbing feeling of ice burn into his calloused palms. It was a memorable time, really. One of the many memories he looks back fondly on ever since he left Derry for a second time, mind flooded now of thoughts that had been buried so deeply within his subconscious for over thirty years now. Voices that drew blanks now had faces; faces that were admittedly more matured and attractive, sure, but they were still the same faces off his friends.

It had been a few months now since he returned home to the big city of Beverly Hills, resuming the life of a normal man who just so happened to be a big name around both the country and world. But, many were quick to note the subtle change in Richie’s usually boisterous and vulgar attitude. Yet, no one seemed to understand why.

Sure, he was the same man who made jokes about cheating on his girlfriend, about people’s mothers, or even the infamous ‘that’s what she said’ trope. But there was an evident sadness behind that smile. One pitted so deep within him that not even Richie himself could fathom a melancholy so drastic.

Yet his return back to the celebrity life was short lived, as the spotlight finally shone upon the middle-aged comedian, it seemed to catch everything but the usual glimmer of mischief that always shone despite being hidden beyond thick glasses. To be honest, Richie himself didn’t know what was wrong, nor what was the reactant causing his chest to feel so empty. Numb, even. It wasn’t until he closed his eyes at night did he ever feel normal. Probably because sleeping consisted of dreaming a life that he could possibly ever have. But what was particularly strange about it, was that he could never remember what exactly it was he had been dreaming about. It had been like this for months now, and he’s grown accustomed to it. Also undeniably irritated, but used to the dressing feeling of the slumber blinking itself out of his eyes on instinct.

Richie hadn’t forgotten about his time in Derry, either. He can only blame the defeat of IT, or maybe some childhood trauma- maybe both- to be the cause of these weird dreams. In fact, he had managed to stay in touch with the rest of the Losers, too! It was hard not to, especially when the majority of them were such big names. Bill was still producing his feature film of ‘The Black Rapids’, and had been published a brand new book with an ending that didn’t completely suck. Ben and Beverly were still together, with their companies beginning to merge and create more publicity than ever. It was strange how well they made the drastically different worlds of fashion and architecture work. Mike had moved out of Derry at the end of the summer, settling down in Florida and living out the dream life he had always wanted. Needless to say, everything was going great for the remaining five Losers. They hadn’t forgotten each other this time, either. Everyone had gotten their well-deserved happy ending.

..Well, almost everyone.

They called and texted frequently, keeping to date with each other’s lives. However, their busy schedules sometimes meant that these calls would be postponed for days on end.

But winter meant a slow in business. People and paparazzi would much rather be cooped up against a roaring fire than going out of their way to catch a glimpse at the celebrities that seemed to roam around. They could stalk them from the comfort of their own home, thanks to technology.

The holidays were coming up, too. Early December now, but a time both Richie and his friends had been planning ever since their drastic turn back to the regular life of fame; one that contrasted almost comically to the one they used to bare back in the tiny, mundane town that was Derry, Maine.

Richie never thought he’d set foot back on this cursed pavement ever again. That’s what he had told himself during that dreaded week back in summer- to get the hell out of this place and never look back. But that was easier said that done. Despite its reputation, one couldn’t deny the place they had grown up and known for a majority of their life. Even then, the man still had good memories he’d rather hold on to that tied a part of his heart at the one place that truly felt like home.

Richie didn’t have anyone to spend the holidays with. His mother had long since passed, father only dwindling behind. His sister and niece lived out of state, with each other’s company and that of his brother-in-law. There wasn’t any romance, nor even a fling he could call up. Maybe it was out of shame, maybe it was out of the fact that Richie Tozier refused to admit to himself that he was truly alone. He did have one thing, though. Well- four things, if you count each of the Losers individually. Bev, Bill, Mike and Ben were the closest thing Richie had to family nowadays, and he jumped at the proposition of them spending time together back home at Christmas.

Richie rolls up outside the Derry Townhouse, pulling his suitcase out of the trunk of the red sports car. Flashy. He recognizes the other three vehicles parked outside, too- Bill’s silver Chevrolet, Ben’s green Lexus and Mike’s black Peugeot (that admittedly looked in a lot worse wear compared to the others, but Richie is nice enough to not voice that aloud).

Admittedly, he’s not nervous. It wasn’t as if this was the first time he was seeing them in twenty season years or something. The rekindling if their friendship in the earlier months was enough to make Richie recall how deeply rooted his emotional connection was to the group of Losers. They were just friends. Their shared trauma bound them closer than what one would even be able to perceive as humanly possible. It was love. A real love, one that not many got to experience in their lifetime. Sure, it may have not been romantic, but the familial bond was so strong that it seemed to triumph anything else.

The door of the Townhouse creaks open, Trashmouth Tozier plopping his bags down on the ground with a small thump as he watches the familiar figures hunch over the bar, talking and laughing about any and everything under the sun.

“Hey, look who finally decided to show!” Bill turns and raises his glass to Richie, beckoning him over. This, in turn, earns a cheesy grin to erupt from the comedian’s lips. It was strange being back here again. Where it all started, yet they were down to five instead of seven.

“Yeah, yeah, keep it in your pants, Denbrough.” Richie proceeds over, Bev welcoming him with open arms. He engulfs his tiny friend in a hug, ravishing in the feeling of warmth. Bev knew better than anyone about Richie’s hurt, even if he didn’t want t admit it to himself. She couldn’t comprehend what it must feel like, though- she came out of this story with the love of her life, yet her best friend’s own was lost in the process. Apart of her can’t help but feel bad, mostly because there was nothing she could do to better the situation, nor was there anything that could’ve helped prevent it. Needless to say, Beverly wouldn’t mind being a shoulder for Richie to lean on if he needed it. That had always been their thing, anyways. Sitting together with a smoke and a beer, staring up at the night sky and just letting their facades fall. Beverly and Richie could always be real with one another. They understood each other. Maybe that was due to their similar personality traits, or the fact that they were platonic soulmates made in hell.

“Heeey,” the red-haired woman grins up at her tall friend, reaching up to pat his cheek – the scratchiness of the stubble feeling like sandpaper against her soft palm. Pale blue eyes meet brown, the happiness evident within them- yet Bev could sense the emptiness behind Richie’s own. “Poured you one and everything. You’re no fun unless your drunk.” She chuckles, holding up a glass of whiskey for Rich. He takes it, rolling his eyes as the clinking of their glasses echoed throughout the desolate B&B.

The taste is bitter in his mouth, the alcohol practically burning as it surpasses his throat. Just how he liked it.

“Haven’t put a ring on it yet, Haystack?” Richie asks Ben, earning a flustered laugh from the undeniably attractive, former fat boy. His cheeks were barely illuminated under the dim lighting of the bar.

“I, uh-“ Ben begins, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, stop! You’re embarrassing him!” Bev points out, slapping Richie’s shoulder gently.

Mike and Bill proceed to join the conversation – time seemingly to fly by almost immediately. Perhaps that was just an effect of the copious amounts of alcohol everyone began to consume, cheeks flushed and words beginning to slur. It was nice, though. Even if it were for just a few hours, Richie wasn’t focusing on ignoring the gaping hood in his chest (pun intended), but rather his best friends.

One by one, the group seemed to dissipate – Mike being the first to stumble up to bed, followed by Bill, then Bev and Ben. Richie had grown quite the tolerance towards the cursed alcohol, having grown a feign dependency on it to help get through the tough times. He had stopped for a while, wanting to counter the issue before it untwisted into something bigger. However, that seemed to be easier said than done.

Being back in Derry erupted a heavy weight to press down on his chest, especially while housed in the same lobby that housed the previous six. The area was so quiet that even the slightest sound of a pin could be heard if it were dropped. Richie sat alone, the empty glass one one calloused hand, with the other bent against the bar as he hunched against it. He stares ahead at the array of bottles that were lined up neatly on the shelves, letting out a sigh as he deliberates tearing into those, too.

Nonetheless, he decides against it. He decides against heading up to bed in general. The thick bottom of the rugged glass meets the wood below one last time, an exasperated grimace pulling at the older man’s aging features. No drinks, yet no sleep. What exactly was there to do?

To hell if Richie knows. All he can comprehend is the fact that his car keys seemed all that more heavy in his jacket pocket.

Footsteps echo throughout the desolate hall of the Derry Townhouse, the sounds seeming to echo off the four paper-thin walls holding the place up. He had no idea where he was going, but chose to trust his gut with this overwhelming sense of need to travel somewhere. To just get out of here and clear his head. It was easier said than done, especially while the wooziness of the alcohol seemed to alter his state of mind and make his emotions all that more heightened.

He doesn’t even comprehend the comfort and warmth of his car, how it contrasted drastically to the bitterly cold Derry air outside, or how the night wind was so harsh that each whip of it felt like a repeated slap to his freckled and now-red cheeks. The bright lights of the modernized town pass by like a blur, each one reflecting over the lenses of his glasses in their varying neon colours and flashing rhythms. Greens, pinks and blues mixed with the navy sky, standing out like a candle in the darkness – flickering on an off in an attempt to garner a reaction from the people outside. It was a ploy that usually reeled the very man in with its excitement, but now his stoic and determined face seemed to scream anything but intrigued.

The night life seemed to decrease the further Richie headed out, the more he continued to follow the Main Street down until its nearing end as it broke into paths. Two roads diverged in a yellow road, and in his haste, Richie chose the one less travelled by. The car’s tires bump over the uneven hills and potholes that were littered in the grass, showing that this very shortcut hadn’t been touched in years. Last he recalls was when he was in his youth, the freedom of his beaten-up sneakers against the crunchy grass almost like music to his ears, surrounded by those he valued enough to call his best friends. The cold air would toss his unruly and outgrown curls around erratically in rhythm with its howls, Richie only having his glasses to shield his eyes from squinting in an attempt to savor some of his sight.

However, the sounds of tires rolling over pebbles seemed to signify enough that he had gone far enough. The desired destination would have to be reached by foot. It wasn’t an issue, though- the trees parted up ahead, clearing a path for the bridge to be crossed safely. Richie pulls his jacket closer to his body, teeth chattering at the coldness that seemed to envelop this winter night. The surrounding area seems to familiar to him, all the memories flooding back like a slap to his face.

Ah, yes. The Kissing Bridge.

It was only good for two things; sucking faces and carving names. Both options that appealed to Richie wholeheartedly, but he had only ever gotten to fulfill the latter.

The decayed wood that was laid across the bridge creaks under his weight, showing how much wear thirty years really does to something like this. Richie’s walk slows, taking in the scenery around him – the sparkling stars up above, how one seemed to shine ever so slightly brighter amongst the others and how it was situated directly above his head. The rushing water of The Barrens below also seemed eerily calm, more like a secluded lake. The place was hugged in a dark blanket of black within the night, but the full moon shine so brightly that it illuminated the path ahead of him.

He wasn’t sure what had originally led him to this spot, it the familiarity of it was enough to make him understand. And man, he wished he hadn’t.

Brown eyes cast downwards as he comes to a stop, looking over the wooden panels that served as barriers at the bridge’s side. Names and initials of all kinds were engraved deeply into them, some now faded or grown over with moss. But one in particular still looked as good as new. It was only redone a few months prior, after all.

R + E

He scans the initials, a small smile tugging at his lips, yet the melancholy was evident from the way his brows creased in hurt. Eddie. Man, he can almost hear the voice telling him to shut up as Fichte delivered yet another crude joke or in protests to the many silly nicknames he had dubbed the small hypochondriac over the years.

That pain he had been experiencing was there, but only seemed amplified by a thousand – the knife in his heart now being twisted at an unimaginable angle to further embed deeper into the already open and sensitive wound. It hurts. Of course it does. He just wasn’t expecting it to feel so.. excruciating.

Richie reaches up to touch the bow of his glasses, fingers brushing over the lens from where it had previously been splattered with blood.

His breath hitches, and before he knows it, he’s knee-down in the gravel below, having to crawl a few steps over in order to sit his back against the panels below. The man’s shoulder shake pathetically, face buried within his calloused palms as he just.. cries. For the first time in forever, he feels the sensation of tears screaming down his face, the shortness of breath as he gasps in sobs. Albeit silent, each one caused his heart to ache more and more. Time seems to pass, but it’s beyond the point of being able to be told, considering the night was still upon him and he lacked a watch to check the time. Hell, he doesn’t even know if he wants to. He couldn’t been crying for five minutes, maybe an hour- who knows?

It’s the setting of his dreams all over again. The very scenario- only it felt way more real.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts once again by a familiar yet oddly foreign voice from behind. “Hey, fuckface. Mind if I sit here?” It asks, grabbing Richie’s attention. Over the fence leans a short man, his brown hair arranged in a neat fiat-top and puppy-dog eyes still so round beneath his thick brows. The occasional wrinkle was invented into his smile-lines, which was to be expected with age. The large gauze on his cheek is almost significant to his character.

Eddie Kaspbrak.

“Shit, fucking fences-“ he curses out, struggling to catch his leg over the top panel. He was so short in comparison, it was usually comical to Richie. But he hasn’t looked up. His head merely rests back against the fence, a defeated smile pulling at his lips. Eddie takes a seat beside him eventually, dusting himself off.

“This is the most disgusting place I’ve ever been. Even your mom wasn’t a public menace to mental health.”

Richie can’t help but snicker. “Pffft. Of couuurse. Even while you’re dead, you’re still the same germ freak.”

Eddie reciprocates the laugh, ensuing his usual playful teasing-wars with Richie. His sarcas, always seemed to contrast the vulgarity of his jokes. “Well, sue me for having standards.” The silence is resumed once again, it seeming so deafening in the current moment. The distant crickets chirp, combining with the faint sounds of rushing water and the natural night ambiance. It would’ve been beautiful if they had been in any other situation other than their current one. “So, whats the big Trashmouth plan here?” Eddie asks, glancing over. It was as if he was expecting Richie to conjure up some elaborate plan in order to make himself feel better.

There was no answer. Nothing. For the first time in what had to be history, Richie Tozier had nothing to say – which was worrying in itself. His long legs just sprawl out on the ground before him limply.

Eddie furrows his brows. “..Richie?”

“I don’t wanna forget again,” the taller of the two eventually blurts our, which earn a pair of chocolate-brown eyes to look over at him with a hurt expression. Eddie hurts for Richie, knowing that he’d have to live ur is days seemingly miserable. He didn’t want that, especially not for the very man he’d cared about for so many years. He wishes he could’ve said something sooner- anything. Maybe they wouldn’t be in this predicament right now.

“I remember everything now,” Richie begins, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose in distress. “I can’t let go again, Eds.” Of you, Eddie. Richie doesn’t want to let go of the very hypochondriac beside him.

“You wont this time. IT’s dead, remember? We’re free..”

A bitter tone is laced through the replying tone of Richie. “Doesn’t fucking feel like it.” His hand comes away from his face, glasses in grip as he takes them off. His thumb brushes over one of the lenses, as if recalling the very day they were crusted with splattered blood of the very man who was stabbed before him. “Did you know I had to clean your blood off my glasses after?” The Adam’s apple in his throat bobs as he gulps. “Had a sore throat for day’s from screaming your name.”

Eddie feels his own heartstrings get tugged on. He doesn’t hate anything more than seeing Richie so upset, especially when there was nothing he could do. He could take the shitty nicknames, even the jokes about his mom, but Eddie Kaspbrak hated being helpless. He takes Richie’s glasses and instead reaches up to adjust them back onto the wearer, a soft smile with creased brows adorning his features. “You won’t forget, but you do have to let me go, Rich. You deserve a happy ending, too.”

Richie’s gaze meets Eddie’s for the first time. It feels like they’re kids again, and he’s staring into the eyes of the same boy sitting across the hammock from him. “How?”

Quoting the famous lines said to him in the sewer, Eddie nudges him. “You’re stronger than you think. You’ll figure it out.”

“Am not.”

“The strongest, smartest, dumb asshole I know.”

Richie takes ahold of the hands near his face, holding them in a genetic grip as he studies the drastic difference in size. He’s feeling a plethora of emotions right now, and can’t control his next words. “I love you.”

Eddie merely smiles and presses his forehead to Richie’s, his eyes closing in glee. “I love you too, man.”

The curly-haired man feels his chests sink. It was now or never, but he just had to tell Eddie how h event one and for all – facing his fear of being rejected and outcasted by others for this one simple moment that decades had led up to. “No, I mean..-“ He swallows again. “Shit, Kaspbrak, I-“

“Richie, come on.” Eddie pulls away, his lips pressing against Richie’s forehead from where it was exposed beneath his bangs, “I know.”

Richie opens his eyes to instead see a small boy embracing him, his red shorts and fanny pack all too familiar. His head buries in Eddie’s chest, the casting down of his gaze now revealing that instead of his usual modernized-outfit, Richie wore some ripped jeans and an oversized Hawaiian shirt. They both seemed so small right now- having to be no older than thirteen. The same age their friendship was in its prime and began to blossom into something beautiful.

“Now quit the pity party. Go take a shower and make someone laugh, dipshit,” Eddie says, his voice matching his youthful look.

—

When Richie opens his eyes again, he realizes that it was indeed morning, from the brightness and the chirping birds, but also from how groggy he was. He must’ve fallen asleep outside, but the memory of last night still rang in his head like a second nature.

He smiles at the thought, wiping away the few stray tears of happiness that cascaded down his stubble cheeks. His palm presses against his face, trying to conceal that stupid grin that pulled at his lips.

“..Okay, Eddie.”

Pushes himself up, checking his phone to the the multitude of messages from his friends back home. Fuck, he didn’t mean to worry them.

“Let’s do it your way.”

#reddie #it #it chapter two #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #losers club #bev marsh #bill denbrough #mike hanlon #ben hanscom #angst #mcd #pennywise #it ch 2

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jokerfan99 · 5 years ago

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Insult to Injury (RWBY/RVB) by Necroceph

*RVB Opening Theme*

On the Blue Base's roof

Church: The fuck are they doing over there?

He's right, what on Earth are the Red's doing. Through his rifle's scope, he sees the Reds building something on their roof what appears to be, a signboard?! First the stink formula, now this? Who's giving them these stupid ideas anyway? Hey don't look at me, I'm just the narrator!

Caboose: Hello!

Out of the blue, no pun intended, Caboose pops up into Church's view.

Church: Aaaaah! Goddammit, don't scare me like that! Caboose: Sorry. Whatcha watching? Church: Check this out.

Church gives Caboose a peak through the scope.

Church: I don't know what they're building, but it looks like a signboard. Caboose: Signboard? Aww, not another highway advertisement! Church: Who knows what they're using it for. My guess is Sarge just wanted to write something to mock us, that's for sure. Caboose: Or maybe they're planning to advertise their products so that they can earn a quick profit. Church: What? Who the fuck would be buying their junk? Not us of course. Caboose: Maybe Sangheili's passing by in the atmosphere? Church: Guess we'll have to find out ourselves. By the way, what are you doing up here? Caboose: Oh right! I'm here to tell you that Weiss is awake! Hooray! Church: It's about time that Ice Queen wakes up. Here take the rifle, I'm going to have word with her. Caboose: Uhm, Church, what about me? Church: I don't know just... spy on the Red's construction I guess. Call me out if anything new comes up.

At the Blue Base, Weiss' Room

I'm never going near another trash bin for a week. Weiss thought to herself as she takes another sip of her coffee, specially prepared by none other than Kaikaina. Weiss gotta hand it to the Grif, this is one hell of a caffeine.

Kaikaina: You want Dr. Kai to get you some meds? Weiss: No no, I'm perfectly fine. No need to concern yourselves over me. I've been through worse situations before. Tucker: Schnee, you passed out since yesterday! I doubt you're still fine. Kaikaina: Yeah. Plus you even puke while you slept. Weiss: I beg your pardon? Kaikaina: Nothing!

The door opens as Church enter to see Weiss fully recovered from her sixteen hour coma.

Church: Good to see the Snow White has awaken from her deathly slumber. Tell me, did the 'Prince of the Holy Sword' kiss you? Tucker: Wha-? No way I wouldn't do that while a chick's old cold! Though I would if she wants to... do you, baby?

SMASH!!!

Weiss hits Tucker with her mug, shattering it in the process. Even with his helmet on, he somehow felt the pain in the side of his head.

Tucker: OW! I was just saying! Weiss: At least learn how to shut that perverted mouth of yours, Lavernius! Hmph. Church: Not as perverted as suggesting a tight bikini wrestling match yesterday. Weiss: *shiver* Don't bring up that idea again. Tucker: So, Church. I'm guessing this isn't just to check up on her, is it? Church: Nope. In fact I'm here to talk about her fight with the Red yesterday. Tucker: Oh that one. Man it was awesome! Church: I'm not talking about that! From what I saw, she and that Red seem know each other. Is that right, Schnee?

Everybody turn their heads to Weiss.

Weiss: I don't want to talk about it. Church: Well too bad, we are going to talk about it whether you like it or not. So what were you two before, best friends? Tucker: Rivals? Kaikaina: Lovers?

Everybody looks at Kai.

Kaikaina: What, was I really the only one thinking that when they were fighting? Tucker: Speaking of lovers, were you two bisexu- Church: Shut the fuck up Tucker! Look just explain from the beginning, don't care how long, just say it. Weiss: ... Fine if that's to prevent you guys from asking me again and again in the future, so be it. Did I told you guys about the a military academy I studied at before I came to Blood Gulch? Everyone: No. Weiss: Of course. Anyways, me and... that girl, were for a lack for a better word, partners. Kaikaina: Hell yeah, I knew you guys were lovers! Church: She's not referring to that kind of 'partnership'! Weiss: Our relationship was somewhat great if you could say that. Not the brightest girls I know, but she was alright once you get to know her more. Kaikaina: Kinda reminds me of this girl I knew before coming here. Tucker: She a friend? Kaikaina: Nah we fucked, literally. Tucker: Woo baby! Weiss: Would you mind? Tucker: Sorry. Church: So how did your relationship go downhill? Weiss: Oh you would not believe what I've been through. One day, we were posted at this base on a planetoid as part of our final assignment. I think it's called Amity. Anyways the job was simple, follow your superior's orders and make sure no unathorized personal gets in. Everything was fine for the first week. Soldiers talking around, complaining about the weather, you name it. Tucker: Is it me, or does this story sounded familiar? Church: Shh! Weiss: Me and my partner weren't together most of the time there cause we were given two different orders. She patrols around the base while I sit in the server room, keeping away not only unauthorized intruders but 'undisciplined' hands as well. I mean who would be watching porn in a state of the art archive machine? Not only are they disgusting like Tucker,- Tucker: Hey! Weiss: -but they have arrogantly ignore their duties and- Church: Schnee? Hate to remind you but, this isn't a therapy session. Weiss: Sorry. Anyway, I kept away undisciplined hands from the server room.

Transition fade to flashback

Amity guard 01: Oh come on honey, just one download. Pleeeeaaaassee! Weiss: No. Amity guard 02: Look kid. There's nothing to do but standing around here and talk all day. Some of us have already died of boredom! Weiss: And since when did that happen, 'sir'? Amity guard 02: Uhm... last Tuesday. Weiss: That incident? He didn't die of boredom! He just slipped and broke his neck upon impact. Plus he's still alive! I can't believe you all here. You're supposed to be soldiers fighting for your government and still you act like conscripts from the past! Amity guard 01: Hey don't blame us, blame human nature.

And that's when the base shooked. Space pirates. One of the guards I talked to started panicking.

Amity guard 02: OH MY GOD, WE'RE BEING ATTACKED! WE'RE DOOMED!!!

Every guard in the room rushed out until the commander called me. He ordered me to collect all the data to prevent them from falling into enemy hands, so I did what I was told. Once I got the data, I was to rendezvous at the landing bays to be evacuated. On the way to the bay, I came across my partner along with some guy she's carrying over he shoulders.

Weiss: Ruby, what's going on? Ruby: I don't know! Some guys just came out of nowhere and start blowing up the place. Command ordered us to fight back before reinforcements arrive. Weiss: Well go and stop them. Ruby: We can't! These guys are heavily armed and we're loosing a lot of men! Our top priority now is getting everybody out of here! Weiss: Command's new orders? Ruby: Nope. Weiss: Then who's order is that? Ruby: Uhm... mine? Weiss: WHAT?! Ruby: Look just help us out and we'll explain to command later. Weiss: I can't, I have to get out of here! I'm carrying the base's data and is highly important that I evacuate immediately. Ruby: What?! What about everyone here? We can't just leave them to die here!

That's when I got shot in the arm. My partner started fighting the intruders back while I run off to the landing bays to keep the data safe. It was miracle the landing bay wasn't attacked yet and so I manage to escape safely. The data was secured but the base, not so much. We've lost half our men that day and everything stored there was either looted or destroyed.

Transition slide out of flashback

Tucker: So... what happened afterwards? Did you get a medal? Weiss: I did. They gave me a Colonial Cross for my bravery. But after what happenedback there... sigh... I didn't manage to get the scores I needed. THANKS TO HER THAT IS! Church: Is that why you're pissed at her? The scores? Weiss: You have no idea how important it was to get those scores and our pride! If she hadn't just followed her orders and stop those pirates. Things would've gone smoothly! But nooooooooooooo! She just had to disobey her orders and started evacuating people as many as possible. If she had rally them to fight instead, everything would've gone different! DAMN HER! I'M GLAD SHE DIDN'T GET A MEDAL OF HONOR! AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT'S WORST? SHE CALLED ME A DESERTER. DESERTER! I WAS ONLY DOING MY DUTY! ARRRGH! I'm sorry I got carried away again. Once I recovered my wounds, she renounced our partnership right at my face! Well that's good for me. Hmph! Church: *whistle* This is a lot like my relationship with Tex. So what will you do now that you and her saw one another? Weiss: Something I've should have done long after we split. DESTROY HER!

Weiss pulls off her most angry face, but not as fierce Ruby's demonic anger but still... *Suspenseful stinger music*

Weiss: Nonono, that method is just too simple. Hmmmmm... or maybe!... nonono, torture's too barbaric. Tucker: Wow she really is pissed with that Red. Church, if you're still pissed at Tex, would you guys try to forgive each other? Church: Yeah right! That bitch isn't the type of girl to say 'sorry' to anyone, even me! Kaikaina: Plus she's a Red. Tucker: And your brother? Kaikaina: Wha? I won't kill him. Weiss: But he's a Red. Caboose: Psst! Church?

Church hears Caboose's voice as everyone else were busy talking to each other. He turns to see the private peeking behind the door. Wonder why he isn't coming inside, no matter at least he may have some update on the Red's construction. He leaves the room and hears what Caboose has got to say.

Church: What's the update on the Reds? Caboose: Oh it's fine, but it's just... let's not let Weiss see it. Church: Why? Caboose: Well the thing is... do you know those times when teenagers drew something about their teacher just to mock them? Church: Yeah kids have become total assholes these days. Wait what does this got to do with the sign... Caboose:... Church: ...You're not saying what I think you're saying? Caboose: Weiss won't like it! She'll cry if she sees it! Church: Why would she cry... look wait here and give me back my sniper rifle. I'm going to take a look at it myself.

Church leaves Caboose and heads straight to the roof. With him gone, it's time for our beloved Caboose to check on Weiss.

Caboose: Hi, Weiss! Weiss: Hey, Michael. Where's Church? Caboose: Oh he just needed to take a potty. A potty! Hehehe. Weiss: At least he should tell before he left... so you're saying you won't kill your brother? Kaikaina: Duh we're family! If Mom finds out I shot him, I'd be in serious trouble. Tucker: How is she gonna find out? It's not like she's can hear her son's scream light years away, that's physically impossible. Kaikaina: Actually she can. Tucker: Wait she can- Caboose, you okay buddy? Caboose: What? Tucker: Dude, you're staring at the ceiling. Is there something wrong? Caboose: Nothing! Nothing involving the Reds and Weiss won't have to be devastated. Church from the roof: Pfft-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! Caboose: Uh oh. Kaikaina: Holy shit! What is that?! Tucker: Giant hyenas? Weiss: As if! Get out, I need to change immediately!

On the Blue Base's roof

The Blues arrived to the scene to see Church collapsed on the floor. He is laughing uncontrollably like a madman from an asylum, why is he laughing? This put a lot of confusion to the Blues, except Caboose who knows what Church has seen at the Red Base.

Weiss: Church, what are you laughing at? Church: Oh Schnee, you're here. Hehehe... nothing to worry about, there's totally nothing to see... pfft! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! HOHOHOHAHAAAAA!!! Tucker: Is Church alright? Caboose: Oh yes, he's alright! He's... uh... infected with laughing disease. Very contagious but not lethal. Tucker: Laughing disease? I've never heard of it before. Caboose: That's cause you're dumb!

Weiss, curious to see what's on the enemy base, take out her binos and see this signboard. To her disgust, the first thing she sees through the binos was a familiar red colored rifle and brunette hair look straight at her. Ruby is looking back at her. She lowers her gun to reveal her angry expression before pointing at something out of the bino's vision. Weiss zooms out and finally sees the 'so-called' signboard and something drawn on it. The first sight of it widened her eyes. It was a drawing her except... it doesn't match her beautiful petite physique. The drawing of her is an ugly round doodle with the writing, 'BIG FAT MEANIE' next atop. As if she really looks like that! Then there's another drawing of three stickmen with stink-lines above them, still being drawn by Donut, with the title friends is added above them. This must be represent Ruby, and her two other teammates. Oh my she's gone too far.

Caboose: Oh no. Weiss seen it. Tucker: Seen what? Church: Hahaha! Take a look.

Tucker looks through the sniper's scope and starts to instantly laughing upon seeing the signboard.

Tucker: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Big fat meanie! HAHAHAHAHA, that's priceless! Kaikaina: Big fat meanie? Let me see.

Kaikaina gets the same results.

Kaikaina: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! Tucker: I know right? HAHAHAHA! Caboose: Uhm, guys? Weiss is still here. Church: HAHAHA- Son of a bitch. Tucker: HA- Oh fuck me. Kaikaina: HAHA- Whoops.

Weiss was standing still. She may have heard the commotion behind. The first thing that came in the Blues' head is Weiss screaming at them like the banshee she is till their ears popped and bleed. However to their relief she still keeps her composure.

Caboose: Weiss? Are you okay? Weiss: Get the rocket launcher. Caboose: Okay. Church: Hold on, what are you doing? Weiss: Giving her an example not to mess with me.

At the Red Base

Grif: Will you hurry up? This isn't Ancient Renaissance! Donut: Patience. Art need to be clean and refine, so you can't rush it. Grif: I doubt that's art. Sarge: This ought to give that psychological attack to that Blue. Once she sees this, the guilt will force into her and break her from the inside. Ruby: Thanks, Sarge. You didn't have to do this for me. Sarge: Ah don't mention it. And besides, what that Blue did is UNACCEPTABLE! Hehehe, I wonder what kind of reaction that Blue's going to get when she see this. Simmons: Sir. I think you take a look a this. Sarge: Looks like she's pissed off already.

Ruby and Sarge approached Simmons who had been looking at the Blue base. Simmons hand the rifle to Sarge and the rough Sargeant looks through the scope to see the results of the deserter. To his disappointment, Weiss hasn't gone barmy and it looks like she just fired a rocket... A ROCKET?!

Sarge: CRAZY COWBOY ON A NUCLEAR BOMB, GET DOWN!!!

Everybody ducked following a loud WHOOSH passing them by. That was close! Had that rocket hit the concrete, it would've cause a lot of dama- never mind. The drawing, which Donut had worked so much on, is now a large ripped hole!

Donut: NOOOOOOO!!! I haven't painted it yet! Ruby: GGRRRR... WEISSSS!!! Sarge: Dagnabbit, you destructive vandals! You may have spared the signboard but you should never have taken out the drawing!

Back at the Blue Base

That shot put a smile on Weiss. Sure the rocket didn't exploded as predicted, but at least the rocket got rid of the tarp.

Weiss: That's what you get, Rose. Okay so who's up for breakfast? Everyone but Church: Me!

Caboose, Tucker and Kaikaina rush down the stairs, leaving Weiss and Church alone on the roof.

Weiss: Did I just provoked the Reds and caused another attack? Church: Kind of, though I doubt most of them have the mood to attack today. Heh, you know you sure kinda remind me of Tex. Weiss: Who? Church: My girlfriend. The way you acted and talked is somewhat like her, except she more of a crazy bitch than you. Weiss: Girlfriend huh? I don't hear you talking to anyone through the lines. Church: That's cause she's dead. Weiss: Oh... I'm... sorry. I didn't mean to. Church: Nah it's alright. We broke up a long time ago. Sigh, I still miss our arguments. But enough of that, let's get some grub. So you can cook? Weiss: A bit. My butler back home taught me a thing or two about making steak. If you got the meat of course. Church: Well hate to break it you, but we only have canned food. Wait you're rich?! Weiss: Yeah but not the life you'd expect.

A/N: That's the end of this story arc, now that you know why Ruby and Weiss now hate each other. Sorry it couldn't be longer.

#Red vs Blue #rwby #monty oum #Rooster Teeth #weiss schnee #ruby rose #michael j caboose #leonard l church #franklin delano donut

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ilovereadingandilovebreathing · 5 years ago

Note

Ooo I have a few weakness for irondad stuff ._. Could you maybe write Peter taking care of his dad? Or maybe Tony noticing how strong Peter is and how much he has to hold back during hugs? Or hmmm what about comfort cuddles? Honestly anything would be fine though ^-^ cause I love what you write and as long as you have fun with it I'm pretty sure I'll love it! But yeah! I hope maybe these suggestions help ^-^

IronDad writers have literally been making and breaking my whole life these last few months LOL How about all 3?? Great suggestions, Nonny! I appreciate you. This helped immensely.

Random AU in which May is dead and Tony adopted Peter. Shocking, I know, but you said dad, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Characters/Genre: Tony Stark & Peter Parker (IronDad & Spiderson); mostly hurt/comfort, tbh

⚠️ warnings: mentions of gun violence (yes I brought up Ben. Don’t hate me.), crying, broken body parts

•••••••

“Hey, Pete.” Tony tried to keep his tone light as Peter fluttered around him like an anxious little bird; the boy muttered quietly to himself as he pushed various pieces of furniture a few inches to one side, looked over the set up, and then pushed some of them back the other way again.

“Pete.” Peter seemed to not hear Tony at all as he breezed toward the kitchen at a brisk pace, quickly returning with a cold compress which he absently laid on the coffee table just out of Tony’s reach.

“Peter!” Tony’s tone was loud but not angry as he called out to the teen; Peter jerked to a stop, seeming to come out of a trance as he stared and blinked at Tony for a good five seconds before speaking.

“Yeah? Why’re you yelling?”

“Because I tried to get your attention in a normal person way, but apparently you’ve focused all of your energy on scuttling around like a frightened hen instead of allowing your ears to pick up sound outside your own head.” Tony accentuated his comment with a grin to show Peter he wasn’t truly upset with him, but Peter’s face fell anyway, his eyes wide and shimmering as he pointedly only looked at Tony’s face. “Oh, sh- Awh, buddy...”

[[MORE]]

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Tony. I didn’t mean to upset you. Please just relax. I can go to my room if that’ll make you feel better. Or I can just leave all together, I guess; I’m sure Rhodey or Happy could-”

“Kid. Stop. Before you give yourself whiplash.” Tony sighed and gestured for Peter to walk toward him. “Come here.”

Peter stayed frozen in place, a look of horror washing over his features that might have been comedic if Tony didn’t know it was genuinely wrought from a place of fear.

“Pete. You’re not gonna break me, kid.” Tony grimaced when Peter flinched, catching the mistake far too late. “You know what I mean. Just get over here or I’ll come over there.” Tony reached for the crutches propped nearby, wrinkling up his nose and making a mental note to get to the lab to make a suitable replacement when Peter wasn’t looking. If that was possible.

“No! No no no! I’m coming; I’m coming. Don’t move!” Peter scurried over to Tony and stopped inches from the side of the couch; his eyes shone even brighter than before, and Tony braced himself for the inevitable flood. Peter hadn’t cried since everything started, and he knew it was only a matter of time before the kid’s guilt shattered him to pieces.

Tony shimmied back so that his side was against the back of the spacious sectional sofa, patting the now empty space beside him. Peter eyed him warily, finally looking at all of Tony before letting out a shaky sigh.

“Please, Tony.” Peter whispered, his voice catching painfully. “I....I can’t. Not yet.”

“Okay.” Tony reached out a hand, and Peter took it slowly, eying Tony in case he tried anything. Tony smiled stiffly and rubbed his thumb over the back of Peter’s hand while studying the boy’s face carefully. “It’s not your fault, Peter.”

Peter jerked violently and dropped Tony’s hand; he stared in disbelief at his mentor-turned-father, his mouth slightly agape and nostrils flaring. “That’s...how can you say that?” His voice was low, but his tone was bitter and biting though Tony knew Peter’s ire was not aimed toward him. “You wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for me.”

“I mean, you’re not wrong.” Tony sighed at Peter’s shocked expression. “You definitely played a part in this situation, but so did I. And so did the idiot who didn’t know how to stop or redirect a pair of ice skates. I guess he was shocked that a toothpick could pick up such a hunk of meat.” Tony snorted but immediately ground his teeth together when his comment didn’t soften Peter’s gaze at all. “Look, Pete. Times were had. Mistakes were made. Tonys were dropped, and a foot was broken, but it’s not the end of all things, okay? I’m not a fragile little porcelain bird; I don’t always shatter when I fall, but this time just happened to be a bad break. No pun intended.”

“But that’s the point!” Peter was actually on the brink of a breakdown, his voice manic with fear and guilt. “You’ve done so much in your Iron-Man suit, and you’ve ended up okay. I’ve been so careful to control my powers, but the one time I decide to have a little fun, I screw everything up by being careless, and now you’re hurt!” Peter threw an arm toward Tony’s left foot which was encased in a red cast and propped on a stack of throw pillows that had come with the couch.

“It was fun, though.” Tony drew up a fond if not slightly devious smile. “I haven’t been carried around like that since I was a kid. I felt like a five-year-old. And the look on that guy’s face. I’ve never seen a man more terrified of me. Did you hear how he said, ‘T-Tony Stark?!’” Tony brought his hands to his mouth in a cartoonish manner, eyes comically wide and teeth chattering like a frightened Scooby Doo. He quickly dropped the façade and smirked devilishly. “I wonder if he thinks we’ll sue. We’ll hold off on making a statement; that’ll be plenty of karma for my foot.”

Peter’s brow creased at “we,” but he stayed silent, pulling and twisting at the edges of his sweater’s sleeves and worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Pete, I can’t truly have fun with the situation if you’re all pouty like that.”

“What’s fun about this?” Peter grumbled and slouched with his arms crossed.

Tony laughed out loud, startling Peter with the boom in his tone. “Now you look like the five-year-old. There’s plenty that’s fun. I can order Happy around in a way I haven’t been able to since Afghanistan. He’s even better than you at the worried hen impersonation.” Tony just wrinkled his nose at Peter’s sidelong glare. “Pepper won’t dream of getting on my case right now; at least, not like normal. A short break from Stark Industries stuff is a nice change of pace. Definitely no Avengers stuff for a while which is fine with me. I need time here to settle in with my kiddo.” Tony’s features softened when Peter’s cheeks heated with a blush; the teen refused to meet the billionaire’s gaze, so he continued on quietly. “My son. My adopted child named Peter Parker who is one of the best things that’s ever happened to me, regardless of what has happened or will happen. Sleepless nights and broken feet and all.”

Peter worked his jaw painfully, his lips curling and uncurling as he fought with himself.

Tony lightly snapped his fingers and gestured for Peter to meet his gaze, smiling a closed-lipped smile that reached to his eyes before quietly but firmly declaring, “I forgive you, Peter.”

Peter didn’t react at first. He stared at Tony for a moment with his jaw clenched so tight Tony worried he might break a tooth, but then twin tears broke free when Peter blinked for longer than normal, and his face crumpled. He let his head fall forward into his hands as quiet, broken cries tore up and out of his throat.

Tony reached out and tugged lightly on Peter’s sweater until the boy finally acquiesced and dropped onto the very edge of the couch, sitting parellel to Tony. Rolling his eyes, Tony sat up and pulled Peter into his arms, cupping his son’s head with one hand as he cried into Tony’s shoulder. “I know, buddy. I know. It’s okay. I’m going to be okay. And so are you.”

Peter finally wrapped his arms firmly around Tony’s midsection, clinging to the back of his sweatshirt, and Tony tilted his head to rest against Peter’s.

Tony gasped when Peter’s hug became just a bit too hard, squeezing the air out of him, and he felt Peter stiffen in his hold and try to pull away. Tony, however, had no intention of letting go of his kid until his cries died down, so he held Peter tighter and reclined back against the couch, giving them both a second to readjust before sliding his hand back into Peter’s messy curls.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Peter was muttering repetitiously into one of his hands which was balled in a tight fist against his mouth, trying in vain to keep in his cries.

“I forgive you, Peter. For everything. I’ll never get mad at you for loving me.”

“But I hurt you.”

“On accident. While showing how much you love me by having fun and hugging me. I’m not mad, buddy, so I need you to get out whatever guilt you’re feeling, okay?” Peter took in a gasping breath, and it finally clicked for Tony; he rested his chin on Peter’s head and murmured into his hair. “Not that I don’t think you love me or anything, but what’s really got you so worked up?”

“What do you mean?” Peter stuttered quietly.

“I know you feel bad about dropping me, but we both know I could’ve gotten out easily and that it was the other guy’s fault, not yours.”

“But I snuck up behind and surprised you.”

“So? I could’ve told you to put me down, and I know you would have. Please, kid, you gotta tell me what’s had you creeping around me like a hand-shy stray kitten for the past few days.”

Peter was silent save for his cries, and Tony looked toward the ceiling and closed his eyes, willing himself to be patient.

After a full minute of silence, Peter sighed heavily.

“...You know what happened to Ben?”

“Only what you’ve told me.”

That wasn’t entirely true. Tony had definitely dug up what he could on Ben Parker’s murder, and, putting Peter’s and his pieces together, he knew Peter had his powers when his dad’s brother, a police officer and Peter’s guardian at the time, was shot outside of a gas station in Queens while trying to stop a mugging. Unarmed. Tony had come to understand so much about Peter after reading about Ben’s case.

Tony’s wandering thoughts halted when Peter cleared his throat.

“It’s just...I was there...the night he died. I was in my crummy old Spider-Man costume, watching Queens from a building near the gas station.” Peter sighed a deep, trembling sigh, and Tony felt tears drip onto the hand that held Peter against him. “I heard them yelling, but I figured it was some drunk guys fighting over a lotto card or something, but when I really listened, my enhanced hearing picked up his voice. I tried to web over, but...it was too late.” Peter’s voice cracked and trembled. “So now, knowing that I have these powers that can do good...that could have done good...I don’t want to do anything else, you know? I never want my powers to be a bad thing, so it just sucks so much that I hurt my dad-” Peter cut off with a sharp intake of breath, biting his lip hard and squeezing his eyes shut though tears still leaked out. “That I hurt you, especially after everything you’ve done for me. I just feel so bad.”

“I know.” Tony readjusted them so that Peter’s head rested against his shoulder; his tone was low and even in Peter’s ear. “I know you get your moral compass from Ben and his self-sacrificial nature, and I’m so glad you had someone as loving and dedicated as Ben to raise you during your formative years.” Peter shook against him, his breath coming in short bursts, and Tony wrapped both arms around Peter to secure him as closely and tightly as possible. “But, Peter, you have to drop this guilt, okay? I know I didn’t know Ben, but he wouldn’t want this for you. He’d want you to be living it up and happy with me. Not mulling over something you didn’t have control over. Multiple somethings.”

Peter continued to whimper into Tony’s neck, and Tony just held his newly adopted son, hoping his words sunk in as he allowed the boy to cry himself out as he needed to. The stress of the last day, really the last year since May’s passing, had really worn Peter down to the bone. Despite his healing abilities, Tony had noticed the frequent glaze that settled over Peter’s eyes and the hoarse undertones in his voice. The kid was sleepless, running himself ragged at night being Spider-Man and searching for May’s killer. (Peter has never confessed this, of course, but Tony knew there was a reason Peter just couldn’t seem to make curfew....Plus he’d used FRIDAY to make Karen tattle, but for now, Peter could believe she was keeping it all on the down low.)

Tony had heard (read: read online) some teenager adoption stories that were outright horrific, but the majority of adoptive parents just warned about emotional instability, pushing boundaries, and the critical step of forming strong relationships. Tony had definitely experienced the first two, mainly before he’d even had a reason to adopt Peter, but he often worried about that last part. Was he forming a strong relationship with Peter, built on boundaries and actual bonds? He doubted this often, especially when Peter exploded or they disagreed loudly, but right now, with his kid in his arms and finally, if not too carefully, hugging him back, Tony told those fears to back off.

Peter was his kid, and Tony loved Peter Parker more than any other teenager in the world.

Superpowers, broken foot, crying mess, and all.

#irondad #spiderson #irondadfic #irondadfanfic #irondadandspiderson #mine #spiderbabyfic #irondadfanfics #mcufics

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bts5sosempire · 5 years ago

Text

Yandere! BTS Reaction: Trap & Bound

A/n: *risen from the dead* I-I'm...alive!

Pairing: Yandere! Bts x Reader

Words: 1,663

Content: Slight mention of abuse, toxic relationship, horror/ thriller, delusional, force relationship, drugs, manipulation, etc.

Prompt: “Take care of me will you?”

Kim Seokjin:

Sitting in front of your vanity mirror with such a petrified look as you do your best to calm down and try not to breakdown. Jin was behind you, combing your luscious locks as he glides a comb down smoothly to tame the messy tresses. Never would you have thought this person was capable of being a monster.

Jin was everything a person would've wanted in their life before everything went downhill. He was charismatic, so funny with his lame puns and jokes, and to the point your parents liked him.

Hell, the reason why you're sitting in front of a vanity and being decorated like a bride for a wedding…that is was is happening now.

“You look so pretty,” he complimented before leaning down next to your face and smiles at you in the mirror. It would've sounded nice but the fact that you can see your parents mangled bodies behind you through the reflection is very off-putting. Clenching your hands together into fists, Jin chuckles, “Since you're gonna be a Kim alongside with me,” he then utter those words that cause dread to set within you.

Min Yoongi:

Breathing deeply as you feel another convulsion of a shock going through you again. You shaking hands grips the knife tightly in your hands.

Silently sobbing into the dark, you can't prevent any sounds coming out from your throat as the images of people who were precious to you like jewels lay dead in their own pool of blood.

“What do you want from me Yoongi?!” You scream angrily into the dark narrow hallway that was almost deprived of any light but was saved but a lone candle that seems to be walking closer to you in the hands of someone.

“What do I want from you?” Yoongi mocks your question rhetorically before a slight laugh and scoff came from them. “That's a good question,” he brings the candle closer to his face to show there was blood splatter across as it glint by the light. “Since you've made me so crazy for you and you're all I ever see in my head,” he stalks closer to your face and held the candle closer to you both, and whisper those words to you so soft and dangerous.

The candle then was blown out as a scream echo out.

Jung Hoseok:

Faintly tracing the marred scars on your collarbone you look at your haggard self in the mirror. Dried blood smear on your lips due to being abused. Tired eyes from the lack of sleep. Bruises of handprints litter on your body due to being mistreated.

The sound of the door being knock open at the front brought you back from reality. Quickly putting your clothes—that was given by Hoseok, you open the bathroom door and fear overtook your body. Your heart was hammering loudly in your ears and it feels like it wants to bust out from your chest.

“(Name)!” Hoseok shouted in the house. He sounded angry by the tone and use of your name.

Slowly approaching the man, he throws a knife pass your head that implanted deeply on a dartboard and you stop walking immediately and close your eyes in fright.

“What took you so long? Also, did I tell you to stop walking?” His eyes dangerously narrow at you and you shook your head as a ‘no’ to appease him. Continue towards him, his mood shifted immediately to a happy one you recognize during the first few months of dating him. “Come here,” he opens his lap for you while extending a hand out at you.

Slowly accepting his hold, he pulls you into his lap and you tense up. It's not like he cares anyway. “Since I have been so nice to you for so long, why don't you…” He whispers out while one of his hands glides underneath your shirt.

Kim Namjoon:

Hands clutching onto a much stronger one as the feeling of life is being depleted from you every second. Water spills everywhere from the bathtub from the frantic kicking and erratic movements.

Namjoon pulls you out of the tub of ice cold water and you gasp out for air. He tosses the glasses he was wearing somewhere in the bathroom as his white dress shirt was drench in water, which shows his chest and his stomach.

You were coughing and shivering in the bathtub. You were also sure that your lips were purple too.

“I've been patient (Name), and you're just taking advantage of it.” He was calm, and you can see he was disappointed in you. “I also expect much better behavior from you from now on.” Namjoon took off his tie and start to unbuttoned his wet see-through shirt. “Get out of the bath and drain the water, draw me a warmer one.” He then proceeds to pull you up from the bathtub by the arm. One of his arms snake around your waist that spare no personal space.

Namjoon then whispers those words slow and seductive, which cause you to squirm in his hold.

Park Jimin:

You never thought something so innocent and pure would destroy your world overnight like this. Sitting in front of you was Jimin who happily talk to you minus the mess of dismembering corpses blood and bodies were everywhere in the room.

“Noona did you listen to me?” The man pouted and shook you slightly. Snapping back to reality, you stutter out a few incoherent words in fear. Seeing you try to answer him he just giggles at you. He thought it was cute how you were so afraid of him, “It's okay,” one of his bloodied hand went to your face, “I get that being newlyweds must be kind of shocking.”

“What do you mean newlyweds?” Your question makes the man pout again, and you gulp nervously at what he was about to say.

“I ask if you were okay that today we are married to each other, and you nodded. I even ask the part of wanting children too and you also nodded.”

Oh fuck, you're so screwed.

Jimin then grasp your hands tightly and pull you across the table to him, “You won't lie to me right?” You were so afraid that his eyes darken and you just nodded at what he said. “Great!” He let's go of your hands and clap his hands together, “Let's get started!” What Jimin said next didn't match his cheerful manner, those words that he said only makes you more afraid.

Kim Taehyung:

Nothing seems to register to you, every time you look at the paper the world seems to spin around you. “Dr. Kim,” you childishly called out to Taehyung who was busy giving you a drug through the IV drip that'll keep your mind like a child, “I don't understand this!”

Taehyung snatch the paper from you and scan the paper, “Where do you get this?”

“I got it from outside! Doesn't the girl in the paper look like me?” Proudly telling him, the man hit your face. This made you whimper as you feebly hold your cheek in pain.

“What did I tell about the outside world?”

Cowering under his tone you can't help it but cry. “Y-You told me not to go outside and to never do it.”

“Good that you remember, and yet you still do it,” he then pulls out an electrical rod from a drawer, “but there is punishment for consequences too.”

Your eyes widen and you start to hyperventilating in your chair. “I'm sorry please don't hurt me!”

“You do know how hard it is for me to take care of you don't you? But I can let this slip if you'll be willing to please me.” That somehow made your ears perk up. “If you're willing to take care of me and help me lure the bastard who had handed you that flyer then I can let this go.” There was a smirk from him and a dark glint in your eyes. And without hesitation, you told him, ‘yes’ and that made him happy.

Jeon Jungkook:

Chain to the bed headboard you try to tugged the cuff links just to make sure that there would be a defect in the links.

“What are you doing baby?”

You look at the door to found an amuse Jungkook who cocks a brow at you while leaning against the doorframe. Blowing hair out if your face you just roll your eyes at him and throw your head back into the pillows.

Jungkook heavy boots approach your prison form. The man looms over you. He grabs your jaws and let his thumb caress the bruise underneath before pressing it and this cause you to lash out violently at him in pain. But the cuffs prevent you from doing it so.

“You don't like it when I'm being nice nor mean to you, so you better pick a side and stick to it, baby.” Palming your face with his callous hand be gives a few slaps. You spit at Jungkook and he just chuckles, “Guess mean it is.”

He then presses a finger at the barely close wound on your stomach and you scream in pain as he digs it deeper to open it back up. Sinister as he is, he can replace the devil anytime.

Taking his finger out he then drew a heart on your unbruised side of the face. Blood seeps out from the wound. “I can be nice sometimes, all you had to do is just swallow your pride and submit to me.” He then drums his fingers down your bloodied stomach, “But then again, it's your turn so…”

His sweet voice says such words that sound so vehemently in your mind makes you wish you were dead.

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mrneighbourlove · 6 years ago

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Red Typhoon: Ch 5. Cool as Ice, Hot as Flames, this is the Beat of the Mad Crocodile Rock

Corsaire had fought his way out of the bar, luckily without getting shot. There was a loud commotion in the casino, people screaming and running in every direction. He saw Eltontor picking up Lex and ran toward the pirate. Firing a single shot, the bullet nicked Eltontor's ear.

"LET HER GO!"

The bullet entered behind his head, and Eltontor roared, his clawed hand squeezing into Lex instead of letting her go. Raising his gun, he fired a bullet the size of a cannon shot towards Corsaire. "Somebody kill that rat!"

Revy and Rat were the first to hear, and saw a commotion of crocodile men firing at Corsaire. The Gerudo lady took notice of the massive crocodile with the golden eye. "Dad! That's Eltontor! And he has Lex!"

"Revy, get his attention and I'll a-go behind him." Rat told his daughter as the two rushed toward the crew. "Keep out of the line of fire, and watch your steps. Keep your guard up around these men."

Corsaire had dove behind a stack of barrels, the ale inside gushing out onto the docks. He then kicked one barrel forward that was not busted, and ran behind it. The crew men had to avoid the barrel and he took the advantage; shooting them dead on.

Revy did as she was told, raising her blade. "HEY! You ready to crocodile rock and roll?!"

She jumped down from her cover and drew her sword. Eltontor growled, firing a shot at her. Where did these people keep showing up from? He had to get to his ship. Adda would pay handsomely for one of her daughters back.

When his internal radar picked up Rat sneaking up from behind, he gave a low click for his first mate to arrive.

Bursting from underneath the weak ice, a normal, yet massive Crocodile snapped at Rat.

Rat saw the other crocodile jump out of the water. Even though it had been years since he had fought as a gladiator, he still knew some dirty tricks. Not to mention, he had fought against this kind of breed before. Yelling, Rat grabbed the first mate's tail and swung him around... colliding with Eltontor.

Eltontor gasped as he was struck. "GET OF ME YOU FATASS! EAT HIM!"

The crocodile turned around, and waddled to Rat, jaws open and ready to devour him in a death roll if it caught him. He started running onto dry land, moving through the jungle with Lex in hand. Revy followed him, wishing how she had a fire arm. Even a bow and arrow would do. "Get back here with my friend you creep!"

"Revy!" Rat tossed his daughter his rifle. "Aim, breathe, and fire!!!" Then he turned his attention to the crocodile. "I'm going to a-turn you into a nice trophy."

Corsaire tried to follow, but was blocked by other crew members.

Halvar's sensitive ears picked up on all the commotion. He smelled the rest of the crew, along with gunpowder and blood.

"Liz... I think your sister is in trouble." He sniffed the air. "... her scent is going... this way!"

Bakura, Liz and Halvar ran as fast as they could. They came into the clearing to see Revy fighting Eltontor in an exchange of gunfire. She had little experience using a rifle. Rising up, she went to shoot Eltontor... only to have the massive Crocodile man bound on her cover. She had hesitated on firing and it cost her. Unable to draw her sword quickly enough, Eltonor clawed her across the lower chest with one of his hands. Her blood sprayed across the rock as she fell back, clenching her wound. If she hadn't jumped back, she'd be holding her guts in instead of just trying to stop the blood. The Crocodile Captain smiled with a toothy grin. "Looks like I have two Gerudo as my pets now."

Liz screamed as she saw Revy be nearly gutted. This brute had both her sister and her best friend at her mercy. Rushing down to face him, she thought about all her anger. This man worked for Adda. Adda had ruined her happiness. So this man would face her wrath. Her fingers cackled, and as he raised his gun to fire at her, Liz beat him to it, raising her hand, and instinct took over for her. A blinding light made Eltontor fire into the air, and Liz turned that light into a searing flame, launching a bolt at the crocodiles bullet wound in the kneecap. Her target screamed and fell back, and she jumped on top of his stomach, straddling him. With fists of fire she started to beat his face in. "GET! AWAY! FROM! MY! SISTERS!"

"Liz, wait!!!" Halvar watched as his intended beat the ever loving shit out of the man. The pirate captain was unconscious now, and he pulled her off of the man. "We still need him alive to find your father! My love, look at me." He held her face in his hands. "Calm down... we have him. We'll take care of Lex and Revy. Let's get the bastard back to the ship to interrogate him."

"I...I..." Liz breathed heavily, looking down at the scarred, burnt face of Eltontor. "I'm sorry... I lost control."

"H-he might think its 'hot'." Revy chuckled making her pun, blood leaking from her mouth now. "I should be the one apologizing. He got me good. I keep taking stabs wounds for you two..."

Bakura was getting to work immediately on Revy, grinding up herbs and getting bandages ready. "Liz, Halvar, get Lex awake and make sure she's ok."

"I'll get the pirate, make sure he's a-bound tight." Rat came into view and tossed Halvar a pair of cuffs for wrists, connecting the ankle and neck. Corsaire had made his way through the jungle area with Rat. The captain of the Sea Witch did not look pleased. "You two help Lex, Revy, and Bakura. We's heading back to the ship now. Put Lex in her cabin." Corsaire had a deep frown etched into his face. "And keep her there."

"Captain?" Halvar wanted to make sure he heard right. "Keep her there?"

"She's not leaving that cabin until I talk to her."

Scarlet made it back to the ship with the rest of the crew after a few minutes. "Rat? Where's Revy? I heard we're leaving. Did we get our target?"

"Aye, dat we did." Rat had Eltontor over his shoulder while Halvar and Liz helped Revy walk. Thanks to Bakura's touch of magic, she was fine, just in need of rest. "Cap'n... cap'n's not happy with Lex though."

Rat watched Corsaire tromp onto the ship and give orders to the rest of the crew to ready the sails.

"I'm here mom. Don't worry. We got the scaly punk. I'll be fine." Revy walked off, hiding the discomfort she felt from her wound.

"Should I have a talk with Lex?" Scarlet didn't want to step her bounds, as it was Corsaire's mission after all, but she sometimes felt the twins looked up to her as a mother figure.

"She disobeyed orders from the cap'n," Rat sighed, noticing Corsaire's permanent scowl on his face. "Caused a ruckus and our daughter got hurt. He's a-going to give her an earful. You could warn her if you like but won't do no good."

"Well, perhaps I should talk to her, give her a cushion. How did we catch Eltontor anyways?"

"Eh... Liz burnt him."

Scarlet took a step back, her face quickly building with an abundance of emotion. "She did what Rat?"

"Burnt him. See?" Rat turned to show Scarlet the face of Eltontor.

Scarlet started to lose control of her breathing. "And Lex? How did she fair against Eltontor???"

"I don't know, the harbor just turned... icy."

"By the gods. By the gods!" Scarlet laughed aloud, disbelief over taking her. She ran to Liz, who was processing the mission. "Liz! Show me your fire!"

"What?"

"You can use fire now, can you not?"

Liz nodded. She hadn't given it much thought, but the knowledge to use magic was swirling around in her mind now. Had her emotions being pushed to save her loved ones unlocked a talent? She lifted her palm out and decided to give it a try. A flame flickered out, surrounded by an extra light.

Scarlet was ecstatic. "Come on! We're getting your sister!"

"We are? What about-"

"The Captain can lecture her after! Come on!"

Lex had finally started to regain consciences and her head was killing her. Her natural reaction was to touch the wall next to her and lean into it. It felt nice and cold. When Scarlet burst in with Liz, she screamed in celebration. "It's true! It's true!"

Lex did not appreciate the screaming. "P-please stop."

"Lex! Look at the beam!"

The white haired Gerudo did so, and saw a smooth layer of ice. "What?"

"Your sister has fire! You have ice! Don't you know what this means?! You're Twinrova!!!"

The twins were thrown for a loop. Twinrova? The magic Gerudo twins of Fire and Light with Ice and Darkness? Liz's mouth dropped. "No. No we can't we be."

"Why not?! It makes so much sense!"

"We aren't important enough to be-"

"Nonsense. Destiny has made Captain Adda the greatest Gerudo woman on the planet. The fact that you two are Twinrova, her children, is only fate and power having cultivated. This is amazing you two!"

All Lex gave in response in her current migraine was, "Cool."

Scarlet clasped her hands. "I know we have mission, but between traveling, I can tell you both the importance about this. Right now, you have to have a talk with Captain Corsaire Lex. He's very coarse with you."

"What? What did I do?"

"I don't know. But we can talk about it after. We'll talk when you're done Lex. Let's go Liz."

Rat was a little confused about the whole 'Twinrova' deal but was sure Scarlet would educate him later on the matter. After restraining Eltontor in the cargo hold, Rat turned his attention to Revy. He was sure that his daughter was a little shaken from the whole ordeal. After all, this was her first real fight. For now, he was getting Revy into a cabin to rest and recover from her wounds.

Once the ship was far from the harbor, Corsaire descended the steps to Lex's cabin.

Lex heaved over the toilet, still feeling the effects of her roofie.

Banging on the door, Corsaire was not going to let Lex ignore him right now.

"Open the damn door."

"It's unlocked Uncle." Lex's only comfort was using her ice to cool her head. Felt really good.

Marching into the room, the captain closed the door behind him. He was downright angry at Lex's brashness. It had caused trouble for everyone, including a few members of the crew getting hurt. If she had listened to him, the entire ordeal could have gone smoothly. Over the course of his career, both as a pirate and a navy captain, he had done this thousands of times.

"You disobeyed my direct orders, Lex."

"I'm sorry about that. Did we catch him though?"

"Sorry isn't going to cut it, Lex." Corsaire snapped at her. "You caused a fire fight, you caused your friend to get hurt, you caused trouble. This could have been avoided if you listened to me."

"Did we catch him?" Lex repeated, ignoring his anger.

"At a cost, and that should never happen."

"Ok than. I was the one who found him. I was the one who played it safe. It's not my fault that he cheated, than decided to run off like a coward and order gunfire on us. I'm the one who stopped him from fleeing. We would have lost our only lead in finding my mother and Seer if I didn't act. Tell me I'm wrong. If not, maybe you can show me some respect!" Lex's face grew hard, holding down the contents of her stomach. "You think I don't care that Revy got hurt? Of course I do you smug asshole. But that's the risk we all took. I'm puking because I was roofied. What did you lose in this dice roll?"

"YOU DIDN'T LISTEN!!!" Corsaire shouted so loud that the whole ship heard it. "This is exactly why I didn't want you to come along! You're a liability, Lex! Someone always has to watch your ass! You give no thought about how your actions affect others!!!" The captain was done being nice and holding his tongue. "I have never lost a man before, and this time, I came close because of your arrogance! We have followed the same protocol for finding information and no one has gotten hurt under my watch. Because of your actions today, we'll be lucky if one of Eltontor's men doesn't alert Adda that we're close to finding her!" He swore under his breath. "If you want respect, you have to earn it first and stop being an entitled bitch like Eltontor called you. You think anyone is going to respect you parading yourself around and acting all high and mighty?! You may be sought after in Uskar, but this is not your home! This is dangerous and you have no power here! You're not royalty, you're not a warrior, and you're certainly no asset to me or my crew, putting us in danger!!! This is my ship, and you will follow my orders or goddess so help me, I'll have you on the first boat back to Uskar!!!" He then ordered. "You are confined to your cabin until further notice. When you start acting like a rational adult, and think of others before yourself on this ship, then I'll consider letting you out."

The entire crew winced at the verbal beat down that Lex received from Corsaire.

"Oi... I don't think I've ever heard him that mad." Rat said quietly to Scarlet.

With a strident 'slam', the captain exited Lex's quarters before she had a chance to say one word to him.

Lex was immediately broken down, and started to weep, her voice squeaking as small as a mouse. "I-I just want to be important and help everyone."

Bakura took his mask off, waving Corsaire over. He was unaware that Corsaire was going to verbally crush Lex, and it threw his mindset for a loop. "A moment?"

"I'm not talking to anyone right now." Corsaire held up a hand before Bakura could say a word. His shoulders slumped and he rubbed his forehead with one hand. He was not trying to be rude, he simply needed a moment to collect his thoughts. "Later. If you need something, ask Rat."

"Just be careful. Lex is dangerously close to becoming like her mother. She just wanted to help. Be careful when pushing her. She's my daughter after all." And that was all Bakura left it at. He should have watched over both his daughters. Perhaps things have gone differently, but he wasn't there, so he couldn't judge either the pros or the cons.

"If she wanted to help, then she would have listened and stopped acting like a brat for goddess' sake!" Corsaire snapped, and then his face fell. "Sorry. I'm not angry at you. Go attend to your duties. This will blow over soon. Let me know when the reptile is awake."

Bakura's face twisted with a primal rage. Lex was wild, he couldn't deny that, but like hell would he continue to stand by and let anyone chew her out doing her best. How dare this man berate his daughter for trying. This twist of rage, however, is all Seth needed to break through. "You should trust our daughters abilities, Captain. You know what, it's been too long since I hurt someone for information."

When Bakura spoke in union, it was a sign his mind had either lost control, or he was shifting control over to Seth. The Shiekah lead Corsaire to the lower levels and made a palm strike on the reptilian crocodile, and twisted. Eltontor suddenly screamed with pain and terror awake. Seth brushed his hair. "One fat crocodile wide and awake."

"I want to, Bakura." Corsaire stated with a hard tone. "But if Lex cannot control her actions for the sake of others, then it begs the question of if I can."

Down in the cargo hold, the captain watched as the reptile man jumped awake. He held a dagger, using it to get rid of the grit underneath his nails. "Now, we can make this really easy for you, crocodile, or you can chose the hard route and my friend here," Corsaire gestured to Bakura. "Will pull all your claws out, then your teeth, maybe an eye or two, and after that, your scales one by one."

"It's Seth."

Eltontor was terrified, and everything hurt like hell. How could the pain get any worse. "W-what do want to know?"

"Excuse me, my friend Seth here will..." Corsaire waved his dagger for emphasis. "Dismantle you." He then stated. "I will put this as simply as I can for your reptilian brain; I want to know the location of Captain Adda's home."

"I d-don't kn-" Seth immediately cut him off by ripping two claws out of the croc's fingers. Eltontor screamed loudly in pain. "I DON'T KNOW THAT!"

"Hmmmm. Maybe you need to see more clearly."

"What?"

Seth grinned, and taking the knife, cut out Eltontor's artificial golden eye. It took a good ten minutes for the crocodile to stop screaming.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I go out of order? Let me get a tooth." With a sharp pull, Seth tore out a canine. They hadn't even gotten a lick of information yet, and he already had done so much damage. However, Eltontor was scarred stiff now.

"Maybe you should go for the balls next, he hasn't said one word yet."

"I DON'T KNOW! VERY FEW PEOPLE DO!"

Seth grinned, and gave the croc a few punches, breaking his snout and an arm. The reptile was bleeding all over Corsaire's floor now. Seth snapped his fingers at the dazed crocodile. "Bakura loathes violence like this. Little man was on your end of a torture interrogation himself once. Now, I want you to answer a question. Would a man in a red tie match the description of someone who can find Adda for us?"

"Y-yes."

"Details, or you're going to make a very nice purse for my wife."

"He keeps his real name a secret. He runs his organization in the shadows and acts as a partner to Adda. Goes by the name, King Crimson."

"Partner? Interesting. Never knew Adda liked to share power." Corsaire raised an eyebrow. "And where can we find him?"

"She needs to. You think, even with all her might, she has the resources to run the muscle and intelligence that controls the sea for her? You can find him on Dios Isola. But I doubt you'll get him to help you..."

"Oh, we're not asking for help, we're demanding it." Corsaire walked over to Eltontor. "You see, over seven years ago, Adda kidnapped one of my brothers and has held him hostage since then. So, I'm taking a page out of my brother-in-law's book, he's psychopath, borderline me thinks, you see." He held the dagger right underneath Eltontor's chin, pressing the tip into the skin. "If anyone gets in my way, I'll simply blown them into tiny bits, put their parts in my chum bucket, toss it into the sea, then dunk Adda feet first into the shark invested water and watch with glee as she gets eaten little by little for hurting my brother. Get my drift, purse bag?"

"Yeah! I do. I'm sorry for calling your niece a bitch. And all the rest of the trouble. What more can I give you?!"

"Hrm, I don't know, Seth, what more can he give us?" Corsaire glanced at the assassin with a small smirk. "Got any ideas?"

"I think you should just skin him slowly. We got what we need. But it doesn't mean we can't have some fun. Surely you want to avenge your niece."

Eltontor's remaining eye was bulging and bloodshot with pain and terror. "T-THAT'S NOT FAIR!"

"He did try to roofie the brat. No telling what he's done to other innocent ladies." Corsaire played along with Seth's insinuation. "You know what, I'm feeling generous. Instead of me, the captain, deciding the appropriate punishment for trying to take advantage of my niece, I'll let her father decide. Sound good to you, Seth?"

"Gladly." Seth took his knife and drove it into Eltontor's neck, precisely to make it a drawn out death. "Hey, Corsaire. You'll get a kick out of this."

The Shiekah shook, and blinking, Bakura's face turned white as he came back into consciousness. He saw what he had done, the crocodilian man raising his mangled hand out to him. Bakura threw himself back, panicking at the area around him. "D-Did we torture him? Did you let me torture him?! What-" Bakura was flashing back to his own torment. "What the hell?! What the FUCKING HELL CORSAIRE!!!"

"We got what we needed." Corsaire was showing hardly any concern at all. "We have another source to find Adda. The shadow man with the red tie or whatever. This," He motioned to the reptile. "Is merely chum now. Go clean up. I'll take care of the body." Pulling Bakura out of the way, the captain then stepped on a hidden mechanism in the cargo hold. It opened up trap doors, depositing Eltontor into the sea for the fishes to fed upon at leisure. "He's of no worries to us now."

Bakura was flushing emotion. "You- you SON OF A BITCH!!!"

The Shiekah threw into a frenzy, kicking Corsaire as he leaned down to pull the trap doors back up. "YOU LET ME BE A MONSTER!!! YOU KEEP INSULTING MY DAUGHTER!!! YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD!!!"

Corsaire turned swiftly and punched Bakura with his metal arm, sending the man flying into the wall. He then held out his gun, the barrel of it in contact with the man's forehead.

"I didn't let you do anything. Your other half did it." Corsaire said coldly with a glare. "If you want to go back home with Lex, then be my guest. We're here to rescue Seer, and I'll not have your temper tantrum or Lex's foolishness get in our way after seven years of my brother being a hostage."

Years of mediation, ruined in one swift stroke. Seth needed less than half an hour to ruin everything Bakura stood for. Again. Bakura started to break down. "Get me out of this room! RIGHT FUCKING NOW!!!"

"Exit's this way." Corsaire merely dragged the man along with him by the arm. "Control yourself, and clean up." He opened the door to Bakura's cabin.

Bakura went to the deck and vomited overboard, disgusted by his own actions. He couldn't control his head space, and all he heard was Seth mocking him. "QUIT LAUGHING AT ME!!! THIS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

"Cap'n?" Rat overheard Bakura's yelling. "What's wrong with---"

"His other half got the best of him." Corsaire went to the wheel to steer the ship. "Check on him and make sure he rests."

Scarlet was heavily concerned. She had seen this behaviour once before. It was after Seth had killed two of her crew mates, and made Adda question everything about her relationship with Bakura. The man had exiled himself, drowned in hysteria and grief. "Bakura?"

"Did anyone hear that?"

"No. That room was pretty sound proof."

"My daughters... my daughters could have heard." Bakura looked hysterically at Rat. "What if your daughter heard he was back, on this ship with her?"

"Look here, Bakie," Rat put his hands on Bakura's shoulders. "We's all have slip ups. You's back in control now. We didn't a-hear anything, so the girls didn't a-hear anything." He patted Bakura's cheek with his rough, calloused hands. "You's fine. No one's saying anything, aye?"

"I'm not fine. I'm not. I'm never going to be ok. All this shit with Adda, you losing Seer, is all because I can't keep HIM in check! I should have settled down Adda years ago and been a family man! I'm a fuck up, I'm- FUCK!" Bakura tore away, smashing his hand against his face. "I need to not think. I need something, anything, please."

THWANG!!!

Down Bakura went after Bomba hit him in the head with one of Seer's old frying pans.

"BOMBA!!!" Rat yelled at him. "What in the fuck?!?!"

"... what? He was freaking out, and he said he needed not ta think. Can't think when you's sleeping."

Scarlet shook her head sadly. "I wish you had the life you desired with Adda, Bakura."

Adda waved her magic weapon and allowed Onslaught to fly in from a small hole she created in her island fortress. The dragon landed by a landing pad next to her bungalow. With a snarl, he gave a cheeky growl to Seer. "How's your pet?"

"He's fine. Don't worry about him. What I need to be worried about is why my ladies found Captain Eltontor's body mutilated and floating in the sea. You do your job like I asked and look into it?"

Onslaught took note at how Adda had the Wind Waker at all times on her whenever he was around her. If she didn't, she'd be the lower pirate in this relationship, not him. At her snark, he growled. "I did. I think you'll find my report quite interesting."

"Well, spit it out."

"One of the people spotted chasing after him was the infamous Captain Corsaire."

"Corsaire? Where is that name familiar..."

"Fuck you, lizard." Seer gave Onslaught the finger, knowing he could get away with it for now. He was not really paying attention to detail until he heard Captain Corsaire's name. His skin tingled. After all this time, his captain was still looking for him?

“He’s the Captain that slew the Kraken.”

“Oh yeah.”

“That’s not all, a white hair Gerudo was seen with him.”

Adda held down her emotions, but she was excited. “My daughter?”

“I’d assume so Adda.”

Seer swallowed thickly, getting nervous. Liz and Lex were always together, so if he saw one, that meant the other was close. He did not want his girls to get hurt. There was no telling what would happen. Adda claimed she wanted the twins here with her, but at what cost? His old crew mates, his daughters, and possibly Bakura... when would all this bloodshed end?

Adda waved him off. “Leave Onslaught. Scour the oceans and find my girls. Alive and unharmed.”

“Very well.”

Onslaught took off, flying through the hole. Adda closed it, and turned back to a Seer, visibly excited. “Come on! Let’s go check in on the girls!”

"... what?" Seer had been so deep in his thoughts, he spaced out for a moment. As Adda dragged him along, he was silent.

Adda snapped her fingers to her magician. "Old one. I want to look in on my girls again."

"Very well. You and the blind man shall see through the ball. Touch it, and your souls will peer in."

Adda took a deep breathe and did so. What the two of them saw was Lex on a ship, stuck in her cabin room. She was sitting on the floor and crying, ice forming around her from her emotions. With a yell, she grabbed a pillow, freezing it, and with a throw, it shattered against the wall. "STUPID UNCLE CORSAIRE!"

Meanwhile, looking in on Liz, she was expressing her fire to Revy and Scarlet. "I don't know how long I can keep it up for."

"That's amazing! You're really good at that!"

"Mom, she doesn't need a hype man."

The magic faded as Adda pulled away. Gasping, she looked to Seer like she won the jackpot. "My girls! My girls are TWINROVA!!! That's fantastic! Ooooo that's FANTASTIC!!!"

"..." Seer still said nothing. After 'seeing' his girls, he removed his hand from the ball. This was bad. With magic, Adda would only want the girls even more to use for her benefit. Slowly, he started thinking about a hard choice. If he found a way to kill Adda, she would never be able to have her grasp around the twins. Her people would kill him for it, and he'd never see them again, but it would be worth it. His girls would not have Adda looming over them all their lives, always having to watch their backs.

Adda kissed Seer suddenly, positivity filling her. "This is fantastic Seer! You'll get to see them again. Well, not see, but you get the point. And I'll be able to pass on the legacy I built up for them! They have the power to control the seas! And with the two of them, they'd be unstoppable! Oh YES! THAT'S MY GIRLS!!!"

Adda did a little jig, so excited. She was tantalizingly close to seeing her daughters once more.

Adda treated him as a prize, a pet, a trophy. Perhaps he should play the part. She would not let her guard down now with the girls being so close in reach. He had to be careful. Maybe those years as a slave would pay off later. Manipulation was always part of a brothel slave's game. Seer had to trick her into thinking that he was on her side now. Slowly, but carefully, he would lay out his plan in motion... and attack when the time was right. Emotion... he had to play on emotion. Adda would believe that.

"... maybe... you were right." Seer's eyes were tearing up, and he tried to wipe away the tears that fell. "I never knew the twins would turn out so strong. I'm so proud of them. They've gotten so far." Play the part, play the part, he kept telling himself. "I just... I don't want them to get hurt."

"Seer. I'd never hurt them. I'd kill myself before I laid a hand on them." She put both her hands on his cheeks. "I want to give them the world. That's the least I can do for all the lost time."

"No, not that, I know you won't hurt them!" Seer sighed, trying to appear distressed. "It's just... they're on a ship now. Who knows what the other pirates might do to them. That's what I'm worried about."

"Seer. I'd skin anyone who'd dare lay a finger on them." Adda was brutally serious. She liked how Seer was behaving, giving a sigh. "I'm... I'm really tired. And I do hope they find us, so they can find me."

"I doubt there's anyone out there stupid enough to give them your location, Adda." Seer knew she was buying it so far. Just a little more, see if he could push it. "Even if there was, then... we can't just... sink the ship. They're on it. We'll have to ensure they're safe first. I don't want to risk the twins getting hurt, or even Revy. Scarlet was on the ship too." He looked sad. "Revy grew up with the twins, Adda. I know they wouldn't want their best friend in a fire fight."

"I can capture them all. Maybe... maybe Scarlet can come to her senses too." Adda gave a faint smile. "I've built a paradise Seer. If they just fall in quietly, no one will get hurt. No one."

"I don't want anyone hurt." Seer knew Corsaire's tactics. He memorized them over the years. It had been a long while, but he still recalled every single detail. Adda knew that he was a cook on Corsaire's ship, but what she did not know, was he helped with everyday tasks where he could. Once a pirate, always a pirate, including playing the best part of all; a concerned father. He would use it to his advantage. "There's been too much pain over these years. I just want it all to stop. I just want my girls again." Playing on Adda's heartstrings would be like playing a fiddle. "I want to make sure they're okay. I haven't talked to them in so long, and I don't know what's going on in their life. Are they in love? Do they want to travel? Have they finally learned to ride their horses properly that I bought them so long ago? Do they still have sleepovers with Revy?" His shoulders slumped. "So many unanswered questions... so much time passed." He ran a hand down his face, his voice getting thick. "Magic allows me to see them, but... it doesn't allow me to hold them again."

"We'll hold them soon. Would you like to hold me in bed? It's been so long."

"... I believe that would be nice." Seer rubbed the back of his neck with a chuckle. "I've been sort of a dick lately. I'm surprised you'd still want me."

"You have been a dick. And I've been really patient with you." Adda grabbed his hand and lead it to her face.

"... would you believe me if I said I'm sorry?"

“I don’t know...”

"Hrm, well, maybe I can do that thing with my tongue that you like so much and change your mind?" Seer resulted to flirting a little. Adda would definitely fall for that, if she thought he was sincere. "Tug on your hair a little while I take you from behind? You really liked it when I nibbled on your nipples with my sharp teeth." He went on with a list of details, making sure to keep her attention. "Or maybe I should just tease you all over with that vibrating thing you have."

“You playing on my emotions?” She gave him a long look, studying him. “You’re being awfully nice.”

"Maybe I am." Seer shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe I'm not. Or maybe I'm just in a good mood since the twins are displaying signs of magic. I mean, if I recall correctly, this... Twinrova thing, it's a big deal in Gerudo culture, right?"

“It makes them demi-gods. Or so I’ve been told.” Adda grinned, trailing a finger down his chest. “How about we just settle on you fucking me until I can’t stand?”

"Is that a challenge?" Seer had a small smirk on his face.

“It is.” Adda tore is shirt to pieces and lead him back to her quarters. A small part of her told her that Seer was playing her. Right now, she didn’t care. She craved this attention at the moment. Why ruin a good thing?

#crossover #ridersoftheapocalypse #Captain Adda #Seer #Corsaire #Liz and Lex #Twinrova #Revy #Rat #Scarlet #Bakura Saibot #Eltontor #Onslaught: Terror of the Sky and Sea #Pirates #Gerudo #Halvar #Small Torture warning.

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rockmiyabideusexmachina · 6 years ago

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2019 Megaman Valentine’s Day (Talent) Contest Results!

Part two of results day, even though I always label the Talent category as Cat. 1, these results are in reverse. Oh well. Again, raffle prize winners will be contained in both posts, so keep an eye out after my commentary on your art. Not all raffle prize winner are contained in this post. I’ll be contacting all winners soon enough, so sit tight!

To see the Humor category results, please head to THIS POST.

Will any of our Iron Chef contestants be able to create an artsy meal with these ingredients?:

To find out, along with your Talent category winners and full gallery of entries, click here after the break:

Category 1 (Talent) - The Way To A Mega Man’s Heart Is Through His Stomach

This category had the larger amount of participants, and was honestly a lot harder to judge. I really was going back and forth on where to place people, because I love so much about all of them! Your delicious culinary character combos were all delectable in their own right, whether they were actually edible pieces of art or not. I did leave this category up to interpretation a bit more, despite the initial description wording it as a food-themed pinup. As long as it contained some sort of food with a character, it technically fit the theme.

Thank you once again to all who participated. You all make holding these events fun year after year!

I know imgbox gallery gave people some issues before, so as always, let me know if images or links appear broken. Crossing my fingers this works smoothly this year! XD

After each entrant’s name, there will be a link in the character description to the entry, too, just in case the external inserted images don’t load for you.

[Full Talent Gallery]

1.) @prar-draws - Zero and Ciel

While most entries focused on sugary sweets, such as pastries or candies, prar thought outside of the box just enough to stand out against the rest. Taking Zero and Ciel’s already long hair and turning it into ramen and soba noodles, the pair are relaxing together in an overflowing hot tub bowl of their pasta-y strands, broth, veggies and then some, while they enjoy their own bowls of noodles. Despite being heavily layered in clothing, *warning* this is one steamy, saucy pic! XD

*For coming in 1st (in back-to-back years, no doubt), prar has won $100 via Paypal, or a prize of their choice up to that value.*

2.) @digitallyfanged - Tron Bonne and Megaman Volnutt

Ever the tease, Tabby’s Tron is wooing Volnutt with a sugary-sweet sensory overload at the hands of both her, and her Servbots. Or maybe at the head, too, based on that 2-tier strawberry cake that doubles as a hat on happy Servbot. While including so many treats were definitely eye candy in this piece, so too is Tron in that dress, causing Volnutt to deeply blush.

The soft glow of the lighter transparency background, along with the usual shine of your lighting on the pair in the foreground, help them stand out. Even if my mouth is watering more at all the Servbot’s treats. Hahaha.

*For coming in 2nd, Tabby has won $50 via Paypal, or a prize of their choice up to that value.*

3.) @irischroma - Nana

Nana is ready to split her banana split sundae with you. I see what you did there. Your mission is to follow her every command as she feeds you, in her bonus rpg/sim screencap. I really liked the use of multiple halftones to accent the shading on both her and the background of the full image. The background itself is really cool, to incorporate the ice cream mounds, syrup and sprinkles, which also actually align nicely with the sprinkles on her apron. Truly adorbs.

*For coming in 3rd, Iris has won $25 via Paypal, or a prize of their choice up to that value*

And the remaining wonderful entries, in alphabetical order by alias:

@bracedshark - Marino

The first entry to embrace food-themed clothing, Marino is the living embodiment of the chocolate peppermint sundae she is holding. I love mint chocolate chip ice cream, so Marino’s green hair and clothing accents fit that ice cream color perfectly. Also while tying in your traditional peppermints as accessories on her, as well as the sort of melty pinkish mascara dripping down the side of her cheeks.

*Bracedshark is the winner of Raffle Prize #1 - The cel of Duo*

@drewblossom - Ice Man and Roll

Another great use of food-styled clothing, Drew made a precious cinnamon roll dress for Roll, and an ice cream cone vest with a more whipped topping trim for Ice Man. Ice’s hair also adds to that whipped cream feel, yet despite dancing around, does a good job keeping that cherry from falling off the top of his head. XD This is a super cute scene, and has even better apparel style.

*Drew is also the winner of Raffle Prize #4 - The Tamashii Nations Zero figure and Zero emblem wristband*

@hyperbole1729 - Tundra Man, Top Man, Snow Robbit and Eye Ice

The first of two yummy cookie entries, which I’ll assume were baked around the same time, feature both real world treats, and 2D ones. I give Hyperbole big props for making the Snow Robbit and Eye Ice enemies into cookie shape form. They look super delicious, and I’m a guy who loves cookies with tons of frosting. XD Taking the pic on a wintry snowflake plate makes them stand out even more, so I totally loved your creativity with that.

That baking didn’t only take place in Hyperbole’s kitchen, as Tundra and Top also spent the day making the same treats. I think their cookie cutter shapes have given me a clue to how you made yours. LOL Very cute!

*Hyperbole is the winner of Raffle Prize #3 - The Zero plush and framed X 3D sprite art*

@larytello - Zero and Ciel

Strawberry cake seemed to be the most popular choice of romantic treats, and here lary has Zero feeding Ciel her slice. Your digital airbrush shading has really improved, and it shows in this piece! It really gives a nice depth and definition to their arms and legs, not to mention the folds in Ciel’s dress, or the shine off of their helmets. Even with the heavily pink background, with all the hearts, they both still stand out nicely against it, despite their color schemes. Super cute!

@papillonthepirate - Roll.EXE

Our other real world food entry is a sugar frosted Roll.EXE cookie, complete with rosy cheek sprinkles and lemon-flavored ribbon candy antennae attached to her. Again, like Hyperbole’s submission, Papillon had the perfect heart decal plate design to help accentuate her creation, along with the doily it’s sitting on. I’m sure she was delicious! I appreciate the extra creativity taking the theme of the contest literally and making an actual tasty Mega Man character treat!

@peach35 - X and Zero

A very cute scene of X and Zero sharing desert and a drink with swirly-shape sippy straws at a quaint little bistro off the shores of Dopple Town. And I’d imagine the pair of strawberries left snuggling on the table also sort of symbolize the hunter couple cuddling up after their cake and conversation, too. Pardon the pun, but I like the slice of life feel to the scene, that sort of gives it this Norman Rockwell-styled feel. The detail on your strawberries and lemon slices really turned out quite great; they look pretty real!

SockMonkii - Ashe

Ashe is so busy devouring that chocolate/strawberry filled cake slice, I don’t know if she fully realizes how much she has missed on her face. XD In fact, I think she’s likely eyeing the rest of the whole cake as the booty she’s after, rather than of any admirer. LOL The ribbon and bow background, along with all the hearts, help emphasize the cake as a romantic gift. Again, I see a lot of growth and improvement in your art style after a year’s time, and I think this pic turned out great!

@star-crossed-swords - Blues and Tempo

While definitely a sweet and romantic drawing, this entry felt like it fit in more with last year’s humor category theme, Beauty and the Beastman.EXE, that I almost wondered if you got mixed up with an older contest post. ^^; So I decided to go with the assumption that Quake Woman/Tempo had something delicious leftover on her hand that Blues was kissing off of her, to fit it within the content requirements. :D Their formalwear looks very nice on both of them. I like the sparkles on her dress coordinating with the starry sky outside the window.

SubZeroIceSkater - Tundra Man

I totally read that tagline in Tundra Man’s voice. And the more bittersweet, the more pure chocolate, so it sounds good to me! Containing most of his stage enemies in cacao form, this box of chocolates is like a your chances at an extra life in item roulette. You never know what you’re gonna get. That’s sort of reverse Forrest Gump logic...right? I love how the box is designed just like his helmet’s rupee with icicles protruding, along with all the beautiful sparkling snowflakes and hearts in the background. I want a box, badly!

#Rockman #Megaman #Mega Man #Rock Miyabi's 2019 Megaman Valentine's Day Contest #Fanart Contest #Too many tags to list

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imightbeapotatobutihavestandards · 6 years ago

Text

He’s Hurting Me Pt 9

Summary: Logan begins to get worried when Patton ditched both him and Roman, without even a text. He knows something’s wrong, so he finally goes to see him. Desperate to help.

This chapter is freaking long guys, honestly I’m sorry. They’re usually like 1500 words... this is over 5000... I got a bit carried away.

Warnings: Lots of talk about abuse, violence, sexual abuse, cuts/scars, panic attacks

Part 9

Logan wasn’t mad when Patton didn’t show up for coffee the next day. He’d tapped his fingers repeatedly on the table, checked his watch, messaged him. Nothing. He called him. Nothing. That wasn’t odd, Patton often forgot to charge his phone, or turn it on, or even answer. Never on purpose, it just slipped his mind as his phone wasn’t that important to him, he was the opposite of Roman and Virgil in that respect. What was odd, wasn’t Patton blowing him off. It had happened so many times by now, something would come up last minute, something usually to do with Mike. What was odd, was Patton not notifying him before. Patton was the kindest, sweetest person Logan had ever met, and he’d never want Logan to waste his valuable time, sitting alone, upset and embarrassed in a coffee shop, he’d have told him as soon as possible. But Logan wasn’t mad that Patton had just left him, in the coffee shop, by himself.

Logan wasn’t mad when Patton did the same to Roman. The following Monday, Roman sat alone, waiting for his friend to appear. But he never showed up. Roman tried calling him, but nothing. Defeated, he’d messaged Logan and left, picking up an extra ice coffee for Virgil on his way out. Logan felt a familiar feeling bubbling up in him again, pulsing through him. But Logan wasn’t mad, not at all.

Logan wasn’t mad when he discovered Patton hadn’t been at work for that past week. It was Thursday by the time Logan managed to get to the cafe before it closed. It was coming up to exam season and Logan had been desperately grading essays, homework, extra revision, and trying to help each student individually, trying to find ways to explain things better for them. He’d been desperate to see Patton, but by the time he’d left the school, it was already too late. Thankfully, come Thursday he’d only had to briefly explain red shift to a student after class, then he was free to go. He’d usually have lessons to plan, but not tonight. He rushed to his car and made his way to the café, he’d practically sprinted to the door, swinging it open in a dramatic Roman-esque fashion. There only were a few customers, most of them being students, happily chatting and sipping coffee in the comfortable café. Thomas, Patton’s older brother, was casually wiping down the deep brown counter, he looked up through his fringe, grinning brightly when he saw Logan.

“Hey, Logan!” He smiled that bright smile the Sanders’ seemed to possess, an infectiously beautiful smile. “What can I do for you?”

“Salutations, Thomas. I was actually looking for your brother.”

“Oh.” Thomas seemed very confused, tilting his head the smallest bit to the side. “He’s-um, he’s not been in. For the whole week. Mike called up and told me he was ill.”

Breath caught in Logan’s throat, it took everything in him to keep his voice level and face emotionless. “Mike told you?”

“Well, yeah, is something wrong?” Thomas asked, putting down the cloth and standing up straight, concern lacing his voice.

“I’m not sure.” Logan replied honestly. “I’ll stop by his on my way home. Don’t worry about it Thomas, I’ll text you when I see him.” He turned to leave.

“Alright, take care of him Logan.” Thomas replied, eyebrows still knitted together in concern, posture still straight as a blade.

“I will.”

Logan wasn’t mad. Logan was terrified. Patton hated missing work, he loved that café too much, and he loved spending time with Thomas. Patton would come in deathly pale, barely able to stay on his feet, and Thomas would have to call Virgil, or even on the occasion they were free, Roman and Logan, to force Patton home. Something didn’t feel right. The teacher wasn’t one to panic easily, and certainly wasn’t one to jump to conclusions, but he was sure there was something deeply wrong going on, and it made him feel physically sick. The thought of Patton; sweet, wonderful Patton, getting hurt in any way, seemed so unthinkable, but Logan knew it had been happening for a while. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white, his self-restraint working overtime to stop him from hunting Mike down right then and there. Again, Logan wasn’t one for jumping to conclusions, and here he was so convinced of Mike’s hidden malicious nature, with only circumstantial evidence, however, when it came to Patton, Logan wasn’t always the most reasonable. The young man just did something to him, something that could sometimes cloud his cynical thoughts, or interfere with his insecurities, something that made him feel the need to protect the little ray of sunshine.

By the time Logan pulled up in Patton’s driveway, his usually restricted emotions seemed to be running riot in him. It was a containable riot, but a riot none the less. His thoughts seemed to spiral from fear and worry, to rage at Mike, to utter confusion at why he felt like everything was crumbling around him when he hadn’t even spoke to Patton yet. Logan paused, taking a deep breath and counting to ten, steeling himself and trying to calm his revolting emotions. He tried desperately to think reasonably as he knocked on the bright blue door, already preparing for several different situations.

Logan wasn’t sure why he hadn’t expected the door to pull open slowly and cautiously. But it did. Patton’s head peeked through the gap, clearly confused, his eyes looking lost and a little scared. His expression changed completely upon seeing Logan, and he swung the door open fully, revealing his full body.

“Logan?” Patton asked, eyebrows furrowing together. “Wh…why are you-“ Patton cut himself off as he noticed his friend’s horrified expression. He followed the taller’s eyes to his bandaged wrists, panic beginning to settle.

Instinctively he drew back, hiding his arms behind his back, mind searching through a million excuses, but it was too late, Logan had seen and was advancing towards him as he fumbled for words. Patton was so lost he had faded out for a moment, and suddenly all he knew was a figure was close to him, he was holding out a hand, he was reaching for him, Patton’s heart leapt and he jerked backwards, cowering, expecting pain. Logan stopped dead in his tracks, looking at Patton heartbroken.

“Patton, please can I see your hand?” Logan’s voice sounded so much softer, so much sadder than he’d heard it in a while. The taller man stepped inside the house and shut the door, cutting off the outside world, much to the other’s relief. Patton shakily complied, praying to anyone who would listen that Logan wouldn’t freak out.

But he wasn’t a religious man.

Logan carefully unwrapped the bandages, inspecting the wounds, he couldn’t help the slight relief upon realising they weren’t self-inflicted, so what caused them? The cuts were uneven, some deep, some not, some already seemed pretty much healed. One of his wrists was also bruised, the soft freckled skin stained with deep purple, vivid blues and sickening yellows. Logan seemed to jump through so many possibilities, eliminating several as a new theory popped up. Whatever the cause, right now, it didn’t matter, because one conclusion always stayed the same: who had done it. Logan felt that bubble of rage in his stomach, his worry for his friend made him attempt to swallow it down, but it never seemed to subside.

“Patton when did you last change these bandages?” Logan practically growled, not daring to meet Patton’s eyes. He knew his tone would already scare the poor man enough, let alone the fire burning behind his eyes. Like he predicted, Patton flinched slightly, causing a part of the teacher to shatter, dulling the flames eating at him by a little, not enough though.

“U-um…” Patton squeaked, desperately searching his mind for the last time he’d dared look at his aching arms. He realised, with regret, he hadn’t changed them since they’d first been bandaged, he’d been too intimidated by what it meant, it taunted him of what had happened. How he’d caused Mike to lash out. How he’d gotten himself hurt. How it was all his fault… wasn’t it?

“Sunday?” Patton said, though it came out like a question. He could feel Logan sigh heavily, his voice softened suddenly with protectiveness as he spoke.

“Please sit down.” He then walked to where he knew Patton kept his bandages.

Logan knew he had to contain himself, he hated how he’d scared Patton already. The young man had been through enough. Collecting supplies he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and counted to ten. He could deal with his anger later, his first priority is Patton. His thoughts quickly flickered back to all the times the protective younger man had fought for him, how when Logan had thought he was trapped Patton had grabbed his hand and they’d ran, how Patton never failed to come up with an awful pun in every situation, how he’d smile so brightly it was almost blinding. He felt relief run through him, just for a moment, dimming the fires. He kept thinking, kept trying to calm himself, for Patton. He thought back to the first time he’d openly cried around Patton, felt the pressure release as he finally just collapsed into caring arms. He winced again remembering the pained expression when he’d shown Patton his scar, and how his face had changed to utter heartbreak when he told him it was of his own father’s doing. Logan vividly remembered how everything he’d tried to keep hidden so desperately for all those years of his life suddenly came spilling out, how everything so ugly and pitiful just fell from his mouth because he was so unable to stop it, and because Patton was so ready to listen.

*Flashback because somehow Logan’s backstory made it here*

Logan allowed himself to think back to what had happened after that. Patton had begged him to get out of that house but Logan couldn’t, it would mean leaving his father alone. Logan’s mother had died in a car accident when he was younger, and since he had always been blamed for it, so he understood where his father’s aggression came from, and despite all the fear he harboured towards him, he loved him, he couldn’t abandon him, leave him truly alone. At least he couldn’t until that night. The night of his mother’s birthday, when his father all but drowned himself in cheap liquor and allowed himself to stew in his awful mood, he was so much more unstable than usual. Logan remembered crawling to bed when the older man had finally let him go, the one place he was safe was in his room. He had finally allowed himself to curl into a ball cradling his bruising arm, when he’d heard heavy footsteps. He tensed and froze automatically, squeezing his eyes shut, knowing if he just pretended to be asleep his father wouldn’t care, like usual. But that wasn’t the case that night. The steps continued, he heard them draw closer and closer, he remained paralysed as his door swung open. His limbs were stuck entirely, like every muscle had just stopped working. He’d hoped his father would just leave, but he didn’t. He felt a hatred filled gaze that was cast at him, and something icy cold crawled up his spine. Suddenly out of nowhere he felt a weight on him, and arms forcing him to turn onto his back. He’d snapped his eyes open, only to be met with blurry dark shapes, without even realising it he reached for his glasses, scooping them off his bed side table and trying to sit up. The arms knocked the glasses from his hands, and pined him against the bed. He wasn’t sure what was happening.

Logan remembered vividly the constricting feeling of arms on him, the fear of the unknown, how he’d screamed as loud as possible and how the sound had been muffled with panic. His father was shouting something at him. He was shaking him, a bruising grip on his arms.

Nononononononono.

That was all he could process. His defiance.

Nononononononono.

He frantically flung his arms anywhere, reaching for anything he could find. His hands closed around something on his table, it was heavy and an odd shape, he didn’t have time to process what it was. He desperately attempted to grab it, eventually managing to curl his fingers around the odd shape. With all his strength he smashed it heavily against his attacker, hearing a violent smash. It was his lamp. He didn’t have time to care. The weight fell off him, as soon as he could move he was up. He scooped his glasses from the floor and sprinted down the stairs, stumbling and hitting the wall as he went. He needed something, where was his phone? Clothes? Keys? Had to get out. Needed basics. There’s the door. Can’t leave yet. Footsteps. Phone.

Logan grabbed his school bag, knowing it had a fair amount of necessary items and hurtled himself towards the door. He ran through the darkness, barely noticing the tears, he just ran and ran and ran. His mind barely processing anything other than his feet meeting the pavement. He just ran. Until he stopped. Vague recognition seeped into his clouded mind. He’d barely had time to breathe, his mind focusing on his feet again and forcing him to walk forwards. He couldn’t comprehend anything until he knocked on the door, and by some miracle, it opened.

A ruffled Patton in pyjama bottoms, a pale blue hoody and slightly tilted glasses stood before him, and in that moment more than ever, he looked like an angel. Logan collapsed onto him, crying, sobbing embarrassingly loud, but he didn’t care, and neither did Patton.

It had taken a while to feel safe again, except when he was with Patton. Patton had helped him so much; encouraged him to see a therapist, to find his aunt, to tell people. Without Patton, Logan wasn’t sure what would have happened, so now he needed to repay him.

Logan sighed, finally leaving with the supplies to see Patton with his head hung, sat on the sofa. Logan’s hands were no longer balled into fists, his knuckles no longer white, and his rage no longer uncontrollable. Instead he was overwhelmed by the urge to hug Patton closely to him, to convince him he was safe now and wrap a blanket around his shoulders. He wanted to return to Patton, what he had given him so long ago. He wanted Patton to feel heard and secure and that maybe things would be okay. Everything Patton had been so desperate to hide, Logan wanted it freed, because he knew the relief he’d feel. More than anything, he wanted Patton to be happy, because that man deserved the world.

Tentatively he stepped closer, voicelessly sitting next to his friend. The teacher winced as the smaller man beside him flinched, eyes wide and brimming with fear, he could practically hear his beating heart.

“Don’t worry Patton, it’s simply me.” He stated, wincing again, only this time at his own cold tone of voice. Logan had never been the best at emotions and feelings and allowing them to come across, but for Patton he’d try his best. He readjusted in his seat, turning in to face the smaller man, letting their knees graze gently together, hoping it would provide tentative comfort. Thankfully, it did, Patton recognised Logan’s attempts, smiling at him with sad, broken eyes. Logan’s heart broke even more.

“I um… I am deeply deeply sorry if my, earlier attitude, scared you. I just, I know I snapped, and that was so wrong of me. You’ve always been there for me Patton, I could never ask for a better friend… I just wish I could be the same for you, but evidently, I am… struggling.”

“Oh, Lo-“ Patton tried to comfort him, but Logan held up his hand, gently smiling.

“I will strive to be better, for you. As I said, you have always been there for me, so it is difficult seeing someone I care about so much hurt, as such it was difficult for me to, control my emotions. Still that’s no excuse for scaring you.”

“Logan,” Patton said, voice soft, almost fragile, but entirely sympathetic. “It’s okay, I-I’m fine, really it’s nothing. Nothing at all. Don-“

“Falsehood.” Logan interrupted, voice still calm and quite, yet warm. He didn’t need to say anything else, everything seeped out in the tone of his voice. It’s not okay. You’re not okay. But I can help. Logan held out a hand patiently. “May I?”

Patton’s eyes flickered from his friend’s face to his out stretched hand, before he cautiously, like a frightened animal, allowed his wrist to fall into the other’s large, slim hands. Logan’s long fingers curled around the wrist carefully, pulling it lightly towards his face so he could inspect it. He decided the best course of action would be to clean and then re-bandage the cuts, they were bad, but didn’t run deep enough to warrant expert medical help, though needed to be routinely cleaned to ensure they didn’t get infected.

At first, Patton had winced when the cold, wet cloth was pressed against his skin, it sent a sharp stinging sensation over his skin, Logan automatically drew away.

“I… I am sorry Patton, this will sting a bit but I’m afraid it must be done. I really am-“

“It’s fine Logan.” Patton interrupted, holding his arm out again. “Go on.”

Nodding, Logan placed the cloth back on the cuts, being very careful about cleaning them. After drying them, Logan began wrapping a bandage around his friend’s arm, his graceful slim fingers gliding around and precisely attending to the task. The process was then repeated on the other wrist, Patton watched in awe at the delicate process, and those fingers working with such precision and care seemed to capture him, he even almost forgot that deep feeling of guilt, disgust and fear that was writhing around in his stomach. It felt like death, like he was decaying from the inside and it was gradually consuming him all, eating up everything that was once him. He knew he had changed, and change isn’t a bad thing, of course he couldn’t be that bright-eyed and bold kid that he used to be, he’d grown up, but there was always still this childlike wonder in himself. Now, it felt like that had faded. He felt like so much had faded. So much so that he wasn’t sure who he was. It had become so difficult to look in a mirror.

Patton knew it wasn’t the first time, in fact, it had never been easy to look in a mirror, he’d always hated his appearance. Objectively, he wasn’t fat, but our minds seldom think objectively. He had short, stubby fingers, nothing like Logan’s long elegant ones. His legs were larger than Virgil’s thin ones. His chest was soft and he had a belly, unlike Roman’s toned chest and broad shoulders. His friends were all so beautiful, and he looked nothing like them. Though somehow, they had made him forget that, he had reached a point where he didn’t feel inadequate around them, and thought that maybe, if these people found him beautiful, then he could find himself beautiful too. What happened to that?

Patton looked up to his friends concentrated expression, his eyes fixed on his hands and a look of pure focus dancing in them, an unwilling smile crossed the smaller’s face. The feeling in his stomach became lighter, it wasn’t gone, not in the slightest, but it was an improvement. He missed Logan so much. He missed those late night talks that ranged from borderline insane to crying lightly into the others shoulder, feeling entirely protected and warm. He missed hearing that rare laugh Logan had, the one he’d always tried to hide but Patton adored. And of course he missed that begrudging smile he’d give after one of Patton’s finest dad jokes. Damn, Patton missed dad jokes. Mike hated dad jokes, so much more than Logan, so much more. Patton decided it wasn’t worth making them some time ago.

Logan didn’t need to say anything after he’d finished bandaging up his friend’s wrist, he just carefully opened his arms out, silently asking if the other wanted a hug. Instantly Patton fell into Logan’s arms, he felt them curl around him, the lean yet strong muscles shielding him from the outside world, he felt his heart rush and calm at the same time and he let a deep but shaky sigh. He allowed his own arms to wrap around Logan tightly, pulling them further together and burying his face in his friend’s neck. Logan moved slightly and lifted Patton’s legs so the other was comfortable and safe in his lap. He didn’t say anything, just held him, for a long while.

Eventually, Logan’s soft even voice broke through the silence, like the hum of the wind.

“Would you like to talk Patton? I understand it may not feel like it, but it is quite often beneficial for someone to talk about what is distressing them.”

Patton swallowed; did he really want to open up that wound?

He wasn’t even sure if he was justified, what he’d gone through wasn’t that bad, not really. Did he really have the right to paint Mike in such a light, if he really loved him? But, now he was questioning it, the warmth, the protection that Logan’s arms offered… he felt; safe. It had never felt like this with Mike. With Mike it had been uncomfortable, humid, suffocating, or even cold and overwhelmingly empty. When they were together, it wasn’t wrong, not when he was being kind. When they curled up together to watch movies, it was pleasant, nice, he had been content. Maybe at first he had felt his heart swell, felt the warmth he felt now, but this security, when he was curled into Logan, that seemed to surround him was so unlike anything he’d felt for a while. He’d missed this, missed Logan, so much. He wanted his best friend back. It made that question burn in the back of his mind, did he truly love Mike? Mike was a good person, he cared for Patton, so what if they had their ups and downs? Of course, of course Patton loved Mike, he had to, after everything… he’d done, he did for love, and that makes it okay, right? A sickness crawled from the very depth of his soul… but he’d done it for love, so that can’t be right! He tried pushing it down again but, like a snake, it crawled back up. He shouldn’t be feeling like this, because everything was fine, because he forgave Mike and he loved Mike and-

-and he was so lost. He was trying so desperate to find answers but every emotion just seemed to tangle into some unrecognisable, Gordian form. He looked up to Logan. Calm, collected, rational Logan. If anyone knew… If anyone could help Patton’s conflicted mind… it would be Logan. Logan, with those bright, dark brown eyes that shone with compassion and patience. His lips were a thin flat line yet those brilliant emotive eyes told Patton everything he needed to know.

Logan held his gaze, not pushing him or prompting him, which strengthened Patton’s resolve. The smaller nodded, breathing in deeply as he did.

Logan readjusted, allowing Patton to move out of his lap, he re-positioned himself in front of the shorter and instinctively grabbed his hands, gently enough that he wasn’t trapped by the grip but instead felt comforted. Patton smiled down at their carefully entwined hands, feeling a temporary warmth rush through him, before it was replaced with a flood of dread. He couldn’t help but holding on a little bit tighter, allowing the grip to stabilise him and give him strength.

He’d hidden this for so long, he wasn’t even sure what he was hiding anymore, or what might come tumbling out of his mouth when he found a place to begin at. He was determined, but he didn’t know where to start, because there had been no clear turning point, it was just a faded hazy mess that Patton had no idea what lead him here.

“Everything was fine… was good for… so long. I guess that, maybe, there were always little things but we all have our little things y’know? I’m far from perfect myself and our flaws are what make us, us, after all. And his flaws made Mike, Mike. And I loved him for them.” Patton rambled on, desperately trying to show, prove, to Logan the good in him. He was so lost trying to find the right words that he missed the flash of hurt that darted across his friend’s eyes, missed the way he tensed slightly and back straightened. It was only for the smallest second, then the impassive mask returned.

“But… he is very, insecure… he was, I don’t know threatened? By… by the amount of time I spent with you and Ro and Virgil. He um, he had a breakdown. He was so upset but embarrassed, I-it… it was my fault, and it hurt s-so much, but I just, I c-couldn’t put him through that again. I didn’t think it would be so bad, missing an hour or two of time with you all, but…” Patton breathed in deeply, allowing his voice to steady, Logan soothingly rubbed circles over shaking knuckles. “He got worse. He got more paranoid… more angry , just more-“ Patton cut himself off again, stumbling over his words, trying to make his jumbled thoughts coherent. “He’d always liked to drink, which is perfectly fine of course but, he suddenly became this different person. And then it started seeping into just, everything. He’d snap and yell and, and- I’d try to keep the peace. Do whatever he wanted – I even urged him to see a therapist once! But he’d just yell and say, horrible things. He didn’t mean it, it was the drink but… it still… hurt...” Patton admitted weakly, almost ashamed, like saying it out loud would make it more real. He waited the weight of the words to crash around him again.

Logan could feel a soft bubble of anger boiling; how could anyone hurt Patton? How dare anyone? But Patton didn’t need this right now, and after reminding himself of that, he easily swallowed back his quick temper and continued to soothe and listen. For Patton.

“B-but, after everything, he’d be so apologetic, kind… more, passionate…” Patton coughed awkwardly, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. He didn’t have to say this, he reminded himself. He didn’t have to tell Logan. But he wanted to.

“There were a, um, a couple of times, w-when after a fight…” He felt the words get stuck at the back of his throat, choking him. He tried breathing, but his eyes kept darting to his bedroom, then to the floor. Logan noticed. His face hardened. His anger burned, roared inside him, but he held it in. He told himself not to jump to conclusions, Patton could be looking for an escape, a place of comfort. Logan let his rage extinguish, before shifting closer to Patton, looking at him with patient eyes.

“He… didn’t like me saying no, to… to sex.” Patton cringed at putting it so bluntly but he had to know Logan was on the same page. “He’d just, keep pushing, until I gave up… gave in.” He practically coughed out, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to block out the memories.

“I-“ Something cut him off, some sort of strangled, animal cry, that racked his body. He took a sharp, hissing intake of breath. All at once, he felt everything. The needy, unwanted hands crawling all over him. The hot breath against his neck. The cold sweat coating his body. The vile crawl up his throat. The feeling of shame heating his face. Another painful sob escaped him. He drew away from Logan, he couldn’t help it, hands were all over him, marking him, burning him.

Patton clamped his hand over his mouth, trying to squeeze his eyes shut even more, desperate to get the images out of his head. He’d done it for Mike, because he loved him, it was normal to want to prove it. If Mike needed Patton to prove it then he would, and that was okay. If he needed him to be good, then he would, he could make the sounds for him and pretend he was okay, pretend everything didn’t feel so, so wrong. If it meant that much, if saying no wasn’t accepted, then it must be important for him. He knew he would only be mad if he said no. But it was fine. He could do as he was told.

Hands, hands were on him again. They burnt. Reflexively he tensed, freezing up entirely.

“Patton,” Soft, calm caring. Not breathy, not needy, not demanding. “Patton, please look at me.”

He complied, fearfully, only to remember those hands were Logan’s, something somewhere felt lighter.

“I cannot begin to understand what you are going through. Know that everything you’re feeling, is exactly what you should be feeling, do not feel guilty.”

Patton nodded hesitantly, a sudden burst of memories surrounding his brain again.

The demands came flooding back. The feeling of helplessness surrounded him, paralysed him. He couldn’t breathe again. He tried biting back a sob, but instead gave in. He let the sobs crash over his body and tears cascade down his face.

What must Logan think? To know what you’ve done… he probably doesn’t want to be around you. Mike was right about you; just a whore. He was right. He was right. He was right.

“Patton.” Logan’s voice again. Patton wasn’t sure when he’d cupped his hands over his ears, or curled his knees into himself, or began muttering and rocking back and force, but when he looked up at Logan through his fringe with glistening, terrified eyes, he realised it all at once.

“Patton, I’m not – I could never think any less of you. No matter what. Least of all for that okay?”

“O-okay.” Patton gulped in the humid air, nodding quickly, the movement making his brain hurt.

“I know this is difficult Patton bu-“

“I-I’m fine. No.. I’m fine, I’m fine, I-“

“Stop. You are not fine. And it’s okay to admit that.” The smaller considered it, heart heavy and tears still streaming down his face, his thoughts were swimming through mess and memories. He opened his mouth, but it was dry, and his throat was hoarse. The words were painful, they were lies, and they burnt.

Eventually, Patton breathed out. The hands were still there, they were threatening, hovering over him, but they weren’t on him. But they could be, at any moment, he was exposed and vulnerable and so so tired. He shook his head, feeling his fight drain out of him and letting his body collapse into Logan. He buried his face into the teachers neck, desperate to feel safety again, tugging at any remnants of protection he could. Logan wrapped his arms around the small, shivering form, protecting him from the hands. Protecting him from the world, and his thoughts, and everything.

“I’m not fine.”

-----

Note: Thanks everyone reading this for the support on this story, honestly I didn’t expect anyone to read this at all! Your comments and likes mean the world to me :)

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solign0501 · 6 years ago

Text

Shall We Begin

Part 25

Summary: As a SHIELD agent your work alongside the Avengers means you and Bucky start to get to know each other but then one day you are ordered to go under cover away from him. When the mission goes wrong, the Avengers are called in for a rescue.

Warnings: Reference to torture/violence/vague sexual references/references to blood/angst

A/N: Here it is, the penultimate part - just the epilogue to go and I promise it will be full of fluff! I’m almost sad to be finishing this. Thank you all so much for your love and support through this fic. I wish I could say how it makes me feel whenever I see your comments, likes and reblogs. For my first fic, this has really taken off and I couldn’t be more proud and simultaneously humbled. Y’all are awesome. I hope you enjoy it.

You didn’t recall getting back to the compound. After the gunshot, everything was a blur. You remembered shouting, someone heaving Bucky from you. There was even someone screaming, though that could have been you.

Bruce, keenest scientific mind on the team - no offence to Tony, had used what medical knowledge he had to keep Bucky alive on the journey home. Coulson had called ahead and arranged medical assistance whilst Natasha piloted the first jet.

Steve had bundled you into the second jet, restrained by Thor and Loki whilst he jumped in with Bucky. You were frantic, which was making you more of a hindrance than a help.

Now here you stood, covered in the now dried blood of the man you love, staring at the door through which he had just been stretchered away. Your legs were lead and everything around you was a deafening hum.

“Y/N!” Sam’s voice drew your attention as he shook you, finally pulling you into the present moment. “Y/N are you alright? Were you hurt?” You shook your head as you registered what he was asking. “Come on, let’s get you checked over anyway.”

He draped your arm over his shoulder and wrapped his own around your waist as he half walked-half carried you towards the med bay. You saw the doors leading to the operating theatre swing open as you approached and Steve stepped out, the sound of voices and bleeping machines hitting your ears. His hands were as red as his eyes as he looked at you. You opened your mouth to speak but no words came out.

Suddenly there was the sound of an alarm bleeping and two nurses rounded the corner at speed with a crash cart, disappearing into the room where Bucky lay. The sound of a single, continuous monitor tone reached your ears in the brief moment when the doors were open and your legs buckled. You were unconscious before you hit the floor, the last thing you recalled seeing were Steve’s hands, still covered in his blood, reaching out to catch you.

*******************************************************************************************

You blinked awake slowly, harsh fluorescent light stinging your eyes and making you groan. Your throat was dry and it felt like you had swallowed something large and whole which had become lodged partway down.

With a groan, you tried to sit up, brain scrambling to piece together where you were and why. Without warning, it hit you and you gave out a strangled cry, darting upright so quickly that you almost fell off the bed.

“Easy there doll, you'll hurt yourself.” The croak was quiet but every syllable sounded like the loudest, sweetest music. Your head snapped to the right as your eyes locked onto two orbs of the most beautiful blue you had ever seen. Bucky smiled weakly and your heart skipped.

“You’re...” you said, almost unable to form the right words. “I thought...”

“I’m here, love, I’m okay.”

“Oh, thank god,” you sobbed as you launched yourself from the bed and flung yourself towards him.

“Woah!” He half-laughed as he held up his flesh arm to protect himself, his metal arm having been removed temporarily during surgery. “I’m alive, but I’m still a wounded man.” That was when you saw the bandage around his abdomen and you broke down, tears running freely from your eyes as you struggled to regain a steady rhythm with your breathing.

“I’m so sorry,” you hiccoughed around your tears. “You were trying to save me. That was meant for me and you saved me. You could have died.”

“Technically I did...”he said, instantly regretting it as you launched into a fresh round of wailing sobs. “Hey, hey, come on now doll.” He made his voice as soothing as a post-op dehydrated grumble can be and reached out for you. Without a word, you clambered onto the bed beside him, careful to avoid touching the bandaged area, resting your head in the crook of his scarred shoulder. After a minute you managed to get your tears under control.

“I nearly lost you. You took a bullet for me, but I’m the one acting up about it,” you said eventually, admonishing yourself, your voice thick with emotion.

“And I’d do it again, no hesitation.” The seriousness of his tone caught your attention and you propped yourself up on your elbow to look at him. He had never looked so sincere and you swallowed hard at the intense look in his eyes.

“I wouldn’t ask you to,” you said. “Not after...” He shook his head, cutting you off.

“That wasn’t your fault. I know that now. I over-reacted at the time and didn’t give you chance to explain. For that, I can’t apologise enough.”

“You don’t need to, you never need to apologise, not to me. I should have known, I should have been able to tell sooner.”

“Hey,” Bucky gave a half-shrug, wincing slightly at the pain the movement caused him, “he’s one heck of a trickster.”

“Well,” you said, smiling briefly. “He is the god of mischief.”

“Yeah well, he ain’t my god doll, so there’s no way he’s taking you away from me.”

“Never.” It was your turn to be deadly serious. “If this whole thing has taught me anything, it’s how much I can’t do without you. I don’t know what would have happened today if you weren’t there. Even if you did break protocol and go rogue to help me.”

“You’re welcome,” he said with a wink. Gingerly, he reached up with his one arm and cupped your chin, running his thumb across your damp cheek. “I love you so much,” he whispered. You slithered a little up the bed, careful not to jolt him. Then, leaning forward you turned his head towards you and captured his lips in the sweetest, yet most passionate kiss you could muster.

“I love you too,” you breathed against his lips.

****************************************************************************************

Bucky stayed in recovery for over a week, the bed next to him being kept there for your use so that you could stay with him - something that apparently Steve had insisted on, and something that you thanked him for profusely the first time he came to visit.

Day by day Bucky regained his strength, his dose of the super soldier serum playing its part in his accelerated healing. Eventually he was strong enough to have the weight of his arm back on again, then to leave the med bay for short walks, and finally to return back to the residential quarters in the main compound.

Whilst he was recovering, Tony and Steve had worked together to move both of your things into a larger room and he was able to integrate back into normal life. Doctor Palmer advised that training should wait until he was fully recovered, but that didn’t stop him from coming along to watch and encourage you.

Loki had been in to visit during his recovery and whilst it was tense at first, Bucky had offered his hand for Loki to shake, thanking him for his part in getting you out from under Lukin’s control. Conversation had flown easily after a while and the three of you seemed to get on well, much to Steve’s concern. You pointed out that all three of you had been brain-washed at some point or other and after Bucky’s lame joke of you being the brain-wash trust, the nickname stuck - especially once Tony got wind of it.

A movie night was organised for when Bucky was finally given the all clear and he got to choose the film.

“It has to be Karate Kid,” he said when you and Steve brought the idea to him.

“But you’ve already seen that one...” Steve pointed out, arching an eyebrow. Bucky looked over at you.

“Yeah, I saw it after one life-changing moment, only fair I watch it again after another.” You and Steve looked at each other with matching quizzical expressions before the blonde man shook his head.

“Sure Buck, it’s your night. I’ll go tell the others and we’ll set it up. See you down there.” With that he left and you turned to Bucky.

“You do know they remade it, right? Fairly recently, with Jackie Chan and Jaden Smith.” Bucky’s blank look made you chuckle. “Remind me to introduce you to the Smith family. Fresh Prince of Bel Air, you’re gonna love it.” You turned to leave but paused as you felt Bucky’s hand on your arm. You spun back round to him, your smile faltering as you saw the serious look on his face.

“Buck, honey, are you okay?” you asked, concern seeping like cold ice into your bones. Without a word, he reached past you and shut the door to your room. Then, hand still on your arm, he steered you over to the bed and sat down, pulling you down next to him.

“You know,” he said after a moment, his voice so low you had to strain to hear him, even with the air of the serum. “I’ve been through so many things, done so many things, but I can count on one hand the amount of times I’ve been truly scared.”

“Pun intended?” you said, trying to diffuse the sudden tension with humour, but he didn’t seem to hear you.

“The first was when I fell from that train, the second when I woke up in Zola’s lab. The next was when Hydra got you the first time, then when I saw Loki handing you over to Lukin. And then there’s right now.” He looked up at you and you could see the fear in his eyes. You reached out and took his hands in yours.

“What’s wrong Buck?” you asked, your own fear starting to build. “Why are you scared? What’s happening?” He sat in silence for a moment, then stood and paced as a thousand scenarios flitted rapidly through your mind. He came to a brief stop in front of you, looked as though he was about to say something, then started to pace again. You waited patiently, knowing that words didn’t come as easy to him as they may have done before the War.

“This isn’t how I should be doing this,” he said eventually. sighing deeply as he raked his flesh hand over his face. “You deserve better. Wine, candles, a nice dinner. More than...” he gestured wildly to the room around you, “more than this.”

“Bucky,” you said, finally becoming a little exasperated. “What on earth are you going on about?”

“Marry me,” he blurted out. Immediately he clamped his mouth shut, as though horrified at the words that had just left it. You sat, stunned, simply blinking at him for a moment as the words sunk in.

“Did you just...?” You couldn’t formulate the question properly. it seemed so bizarre. After a second you burst out laughing, the tension resolving itself to hysteria with you. Bucky looked confused, then offended, then he too started laughing.

Eventually the laughter died down and the seriousness returned as you looked at each other, but it had been enough to give him confidence. Taking two strides towards you, Bucky grabbed your hands in his and dropped to his knee before you, wincing slightly at the residual pain from his now almost completely healed wound.

“Y/N, I don’t honestly know how long I’ve been in love with you for. Sometimes it seems only days, others like it’s been my whole life. The only thing I know for sure is that I don’t want to take another breath without you being mine completely, body and soul. I know I’m old-fashioned and I know that marriage may not be exactly high on your list of priorities, but I can’t think of anything I want more in this whole world. You have made me a better man and I promise that if you say yes, I will spend every day of however long our lives now are showing you exactly what you mean to me.” He looked down, looking slightly sheepish. “Now, I know I’m not perfect but if you’ll take me, incomplete as I am, then I’ll be yours completely.” He trailed off, waiting for your answer, but none came. Tensing slightly, he chanced a look up at your face and his heart stopped.

Tears brimmed in your eyes as you looked at him, biting your lips together over the top of your teeth to hold back the sobs that threatened to spill forth from them. Slowly, you nodded, becoming more emphatic with the movement as his face lit up.

“Yes,” you choked, your throat feeling like it was closing in on itself. “A hundred, thousand times over, yes!” You launched yourself forward onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck and planting salt-tinged kisses all over his face.

“Oh thank God,” he breathed, pulling you into a tight embrace and burying his face in your hair. “You had me worried for a second there, doll.”

“As if I could ever refuse you!” you said with a laugh.

“Good thing too,” he admitted as the two of you finally pulled away from each other. “I don’t know how I would have broken it to your mother. I swear, she was so excited when I asked for her permission that you’d think I was asking her to marry me instead.” You threw back your head and laughed.

“She’s just happy I’ve found somebody mad enough to take me.” You sighed deeply and looked into the eyes of your now fiancé. “Mrs Y/N Barnes... how grown-up that sounds!”

“Well, you are technically engaged to centenarian now...” he pointed out.

“Ewww,” you said, pretending to be grossed out and batting his hand away. “That’s gross. I take it back!”

“Nuh uh,” Bucky said, standing and pulling you up with him and into his arms. “You said yes, that’s for life now, doll.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you said as you kissed him.

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