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benis-chillin · 11 months ago

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Thoughts and theories on Sonic Prime

So, Sonic Prime has ended, good fellers, and since it's a Sonic thing, I shall simply say…

My feelings are mixed.

So, let's start off with just saying that the animation and voice acting? All good. If the English game cast blew up in a mysterious gas leak, these guys would make for fine replacements. The fight scenes are fluid, though do get a bit repetitive in the final few episodes(cause I think they were running low on budget), and everyone moves better than they have in the games…Maybe ever? Music is passable, but outside of the main theme, it's fairly forgettable. I think they used some game music in those sprites scenes that suck ass, so I don't see why they couldn't use a tune or two. At least use "All Hail Shadow" once, dude.

However, I feel that the writing and premise lets it all down. The premise feels like it would be better for a game or IDW arc instead of the rare animated series, especially since this show doesn't establish what Sonic's world is SUPPOSED to be like for new audiences. Sure, the games are at a decent level of popularity recently, and the movies have boosted the brand considerably in the public consciousness, but at least one episode before we start hopping around the multiverse would've made the stakes feel a bit tighter. Just because this is the game world doesn't mean you can skip basic shit like that. A status quo needs to be established for it to be shaken up.

And yes, I did say this is the game world. Prime is, by standards I will explain in a bit, canon. Sonic fans have been arguing against this because of little details, like Green Hill being used interchangeably with Sonic's world(even though they never outright state that they're the same thing, leading me to believe this is simply a weird writing quirk), Sonic not noting other Metal Sonics exist when Chaos Sonic is introduced(even though he never says, "I have never seen a Metal Sonic before in my life!" Or anything like that), and Sonic having particularly shaky characterization(bad writing doesn't dictate canonicity, as otherwise the 2010's games wouldn't be canon either).

All of this is not good writing, to be sure, and Sega should've cracked down a bit harder on that stuff while making this show, but nothing here outright contradicts canon, if you know what a contradiction ACTUALLY is. It's an ongoing problem in the Sonic community that they don't know how to lore at all, and Prime is a good example of this. You don't have to like Prime, but if you count Colors or Lost World as canon, then you have no reason to not include Prime. Otherwise, you're just basing canon on what you do or don't like, which is an AWFUL approach to canonicity.

Personally, I slot it between Lost World and Forces for the moment, but this could change at a later date. Now, let's sit down and speculate on some things.

What are the Shatterspaces?

Long explanation short, I don’t believe the Shatterspaces to be a traditional multiverse setup. They aren’t variants of Sonic’s universe in the traditional sense, but rather partial worlds built on “fragments” of Sonic and company’s collective psyche, and this concept can explain a few things.

(Note: This is purely fan speculation, and not Objective Canon Zone. We’ve gotten past that point)

Let’s break down each Shatterspace.

New Yoke is a dimension entirely overrun by the Chaos Counsel. Nature has been weeded out, and people live by the “mercy” of the Eggmen.

However, this Space is the only one with any Eggman variants, and this is very deliberate, because New Yoke is Eggman’s dream made manifest by the Prism. Remember, his robot was holding it when Sonic shattered it, so it’s logical that at least SOME of that energy came into his control. Hey, if anyone besides Sonic could control it, it would probably be Eggman, right? And when they make a giant construct at the end of Season 2, it looks like regular Eggman, so maybe there’s something to that?

But of course, that begs the question: Why 5 Eggmen?

Well, 5 Shatterspaces.

New Yoke-Mr. Doctor Eggman

The most similar to mainline Eggman, it feels best that he represent this Shatterspace.

Boscage Maze-Dr. Deep

The more zen of the 5, who may have more of a connection to nature than the others. For the crime of possibly having touched grass, I give this Shatterspace to him. The closest to a nature side that Eggman has.

No Zone-Dr. Don’t

This one is a stretch, but bear with me.

This version of Eggman is still a youth, likely to have wanted adventure and freedom before reality set in and he chose instead to zone out to his video games and other electronic forms of entertainment as a substitute for the action he craved. Eggman’s a playful sort when he’s not trying to rule the world, so it’s JUST possible enough.

The Grim-Dr. Babble

(Where the hell did he get a doctorate as an infant?)

A Shatterspace fairly undeveloped, its potential not yet fully tapped, much like dear Babble himself. Also a representation of Eggman’s childishness, though perhaps it more links to his feelings of being neglected as a child, as hinted at in the Frontiers audio logs? Who knows?

Ghost Hill-Dr. Done-it.

A shadow of the past, barely hanging on, just waiting to die out so the new hotness can take over completely.

Also looks oddly like Eggman Nega? Idk.

However, these are merely reflections of what the Shatterspaces already represent, which are aspects of Sonic's Personality…Save for New Yoke and Ghost Hill. The former is mostly Eggman’s domain, and the latter is just what was left after the Shattering.

Also, I believe the Shattering to be an event localized to Green Hill, and not encompassing all of Sonic’s world, which would explain why they use the terms interchangeably. I can’t fully explain WHY I feel that way, just have a gut feeling this is how it works. My main basis for this is the flashback in New Yoke where Rouge and Knuckles are just in Green Hill when the Eggmen take over, suggesting that perhaps they were “localized” when the Shattering redistributed them.

Oh yeah, let’s explain that. It seems that Sonic’s friends, along with ALL of Green Hill’s residents, didn’t have much control over how they were split among the Shatterspaces, but aspects of them clearly adapted to the worlds they were placed in. For example, Rouge and Knuckles both took charge of the Resistance in New Yoke, which fits them well enough. Knuckles commanded the Resistance in Forces, and Rouge is literally a government spy in the main universe, after all. Amy likely defended nature in this world, and paid the price for it when the Eggmen turned her into a cyborg. Tails seems to have withdrawn into himself completely, becoming Nine. This universe was made by a villain, so these versions are the darkest ones we could get. The bad ending.

Anyway, back to the other ones.

Boscage Maze represents Sonic’s love of nature, and is thus dominated by it. The people who live in this Space are thus devoted to their natural world, which adapts to be a primitive society led by more primitive urges driven by the need for survival. Rouge naturally leads again, and her more devious nature shines through as a part of her survival instincts, but she’s still doing better than her New Yoke version. Knuckles leans so far into his naivete from growing up on Angel Island alone that it gets remixed into paranoia, Big is Big, Tails seems to have still been isolated to the point of going somewhat feral, but is accepted nowadays by his peers(and has a knack for technology when he finds himself somewhere that it exists), and Amy vehemently defends nature to the point of absurdity. Much like how New Yoke is an example of technology being too dominant, Boscage leans towards going too far in the other direction. The people don’t suffer as much, but they still DO suffer in the end if they don’t work together for a better tomorrow.

No Zone is Sonic’s love of adventure, and everyone in this space represents that. Tails is at his best, being very sociable and accepted by his peers with no hesitancies, clearly. Knuckles' desire for “me beauty” might be a memory of the Master Emerald, but I wouldn’t put too much money in that. Another theory is that it ties into his role as a treasure hunter, without any echidna honor to reel in any greed. This is overall the most positive Space here, tbh.

The Grim is simple possibility. The future, what lies ahead for Sonic. He rarely looks to it, never plans it out, instead choosing to just live in the moment, but it’s always there waiting for him.

And yeah, that’s it. The only remaining question is where are these Shatterspaces now that the Prism is restored, and the main universe returned to normal? Well, Sonic gave the energy back that the Prism needed and it didn’t kill anyone, so it’s likely that they exist permanently now, stable outside of the main “multiverse.” Different from a dimension like Blaze’s, and the split timeline caused by Generations. But that’s just speculation. Who knows if these concepts will ever appear again?

Idk, could make for a good fanfic.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic prime #sonic prime season 3 #sonic lore #sonic theory #sonic prime spoilers

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bengiyo · 1 year ago

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The Middleman's Love Ep 7 Stray Thoughts

Last week Jade pissed me off with his active refusal to see Mai properly and insist that they're just brothers. Gus laid down the law with Tong. We left at Jade upsetting Mai once again.

Mai went and found the piece of paraphernalia that Jade missed out on!

Oh right. King and Uea are fighting because King got jealous again.

I'm glad King is on Team!Mai.

I hope the breakup scene isn't fake. "I don't want to like you anymore," is one of my favorite lines when someone who has been trying so earnestly gets rejected too many times.

As the song says, "You don't know what you got till it's gone."

I hope King and Uea aren't seriously fighting.

Oh, Uea, I'm so glad you're here to talk some sense into your friend.

King was in the wrong, but I still felt a little bad that he had to beg again.

Jade, you really made a comic of all your favorite moments with Mai and still pushed this man away. I feel for you, and I need you to get up off the floor right now and make it right.

Okay, are we getting advice from Uea?? He stay making King run after him!

Be strong, Mai. Don't give it up easy.

What in the Green Hill Zone is this music?

This cast really is so beautiful. Jade is a bit much, but I really love seeing Yim talk about the work.

I see we're gonna take a break to see Tong try to make up with Gus.

Gay boys and their moms. Seems like Gus's mom encouraged him to talk more, and then Tong told him to talk less. Is Gus's mom dead?

FUCK! SHE IS!

Cheewin is a monster for revealing late in the game that Gus is actually a sad, quiet gay.

Well if it isn't drag baby around.

Oh shit! Get it in!!!

Skipping a few mechanical steps, we have a show where the bottom pursued a top, pulled that man's pants off, and then sat on that dick. It's what I deserve.

Poor Jade. His mom seems to let him down on food a lot.

Look at that. The eldest took care of his brother and got that chicken.

Thinking about her: Anya Gununderson.

I have a little sister, and she would be like this.

Okay, that was a good smash cut to put Jade in front of Mai's door.

Lot of moms this week. I'm okay with this.

King really said to back off and let him miss you. King, has that worked for you with Uea at all?

Why do they never adjust the seats properly on bikes in Thai BL? This always looks like such an uncomfortable ride.

I like them getting all of that out of the way and clarifying this mess. Leaves us room for a boyfriends episode.

Wait, are they roleplaying next week??

I'm a bit unsure about this whole show, but I like what I think it's trying to do. There's an undercurrent of being who you are so the right lover will find you that really works for me. Still, this has been a mixed bag of a watch.

#middleman's love #the middleman's love #thai bl #bl series #Ben watches

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pico-digital-studios · 11 months ago

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Into, Across and Beyond! Scene: A Peculiar Interest

Dimension EV-2019

??? 1: Write that down! We might need it later!

??? 2: Okay okay! I'm on it!

??? 1: We might get a 50-50 chance in getting that killer bonehead with all this info! I can already taste his immortal brain!

In the dimension's local Chuck's Chilli Dogs bar, XE!Sonic and X/Xenomorphic, his dark matter companion, were learning more about the Errorverse after winding up there by accident.

XE!Sonic: Right. So, like you're saying, this place has lots and lots of... supernatural people?

X/Xenomorphic: And he has been saying it... for HOURS.

XE!Sonic: Yeah, alright, sorry. I'm an idiot. So, there's a yellow hedgehog, right? He wields a Super Ring?

Lui Chi Mei: You mean the Sacred Ring?

XE!Sonic: Sacred Ring, right. So there's a yellow hedgehog with powers from this Sacred Ring, and in this dimension, I'm his mentor?

Lui Chi Mei: Quite right!

X: Sonic the Mentor...! This is some fine-tasting scope!

XE!Sonic: And there's also a purple hedgehog akin to me, and he was once an immortal being?

Lui Chi Mei: Mhm. His name is Karilvatch, and at one point, he used all our souls to save everybody.

XE!Sonic: Karilvatch, right.

X: Yeah, and you thought Lethal Protector was a shit name!

XE!Sonic: Because it is. And shut up! For all I know, you were mocking an ancient being.

X: Not sorry!

XE!Sonic: O... kay... Moving on, anyone else connected to him?

X: Yeah! Any more super people?

Lui Chi Mei: Well, aside from his girlfriend Lucia, who's half-hedgehog half-fox and is quite the tech wiz, Karilvatch has a sister. She's an angel also created by this world's god. Her name is Emily.

XE!Sonic: Emily, huh? So his sister's an angel, his girlfriend's half-fox, and he's a... devil?

X: I think those two are ado-

XE!Sonic: (X, will you please stop it?!)

X: Sorry.

XE!Sonic: Right, speaking of... So how about this... Toxic... Infect?

Lui Chi Mei: Toxinfect?

XE!Sonic: Toxinfect? So he's a dangerous being with a name that's garbage? Alright, what does he look like?

X: Wow... Shaming me for mocking an immortal being's name while you can do it yourself? Very mature.

XE!Sonic (smirking): Touché, hungry man-child.

X: Ouch! >.<

XE!Sonic snickered as a picture was placed on the service desk for him to see.

XE!Sonic: Ah. So he almost looks like my friend here, huh?

Lui Chi Mei: Yes. I thought that monster was simply an alien or some other EXE trying to take over the planet. Turns out he's the embodiment of LOTS of negativity.

XE!Sonic: Wanna know something about aliens? Heh, those aliens can be a big wussy, and not to mention (X: Soniiic! Not this again!) insatiable. So if you're telling me this Toxinfect guy is dangerous, then he probably loves eating BRAINS, right? Because that's what these things do. So what about him? What did he do to the Sonic of this world?

Lui Chi Mei: You know, he trapped him inside a purgatory, for seven months.

XE!Sonic: Seven months...? That's a really long time... You know what? Maybe we should go to Green Hills Zone over at South Island and speak to this... Nitro guy.

X: Sonic!

X made Sonic stand up.

X: We are done! Let's go hunt some killer bonehead's behind!

XE!Sonic: I don't think we should go look for him now. I don't wanna potentially spend the rest of my next seven months in a purgatory.

Lui Chi Mei: Oh, erm, are you going to pay the bill?

X: Oh chill! It will be fine, pal'! I won't let that-

Suddenly, XE!Sonic started glowing as they were about to return to their dimension.

X: What is happening?! No! No, we just got here! NO, NOT AGAIN! COME ON!

XE!Sonic: Woah...

And as such, the two vanished, leaving Lui at the bar desk.

Lui Chi Mei: And there he goes. No paying the bill, no tips... nothing.

Unseen by her, though, a piece of dark matter was left behind on the table, which crawled away without her seeing it.

#sonic exe #sonic the hedgehog #spider verse #sth #sonic #sonic fandom #sth au #sonic au #spider man

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the-iron-shoulder · 11 months ago

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FRIDAY PART 2

ohhhhh man this night was incredible

so I knew she was going to be good, she’s a phenomenal performer, but omg. Lacey Johnson. Lacey fucking Johnson! She’s an absolute BEAST

if you’ve never heard of her and you have ANY interest in VGM, for the love of god, go look her up, I’m completely obsessed. She is inhumanly good on the keytar AND she sings—she has incredible stage presence, absolutely knows how to grab the audience’s attention and not let go

she started with some Metroid pieces while in Zero Suit costume, which was sick, and then she disappeared off stage to change into her normal performing attire. While she was changing, the screen was basically going through the start-up-and-select-a-song process for DDR X, and it was teasing us with looking like it was going to pick this song or that song, and then it went to fucken BUTTERFLY and the crowd just exploded. She gave a great vocal performance while just shredding the keytar, incredible stuff

I’m trying to even remember what else she played… some Guilty Gear, some Persona, some really excellent Castlevania (Young Nobleman of Sadness! Which I will maintain is a better name than The Tragic Prince), the Chocobo theme

my favorite moment from her set was when she just said “gamers, please rise for the national anthem” and then launched into ESCAPE FROM THE CITY, I just absolutely lost my shit, such a fabulous bit (and such a good song)

her finale was also Megalovania but she did a fake-out with making it look like it was going to be some Guitar Hero thing before cutting into the real thing, so much fun

I think Lacey was the best performance we saw, and that’s including the one right after her, which was ToxicxEternity and FamilyJules performing THE SHREDVENTURE

I saw the original Shredventure in 2021 and this was almost exactly the same, just with a couple songs cut for time (totally expected and reasonable). Spoilers, I guess?

So the conceit, the story I suppose, is that there’s a wizard who says that VIDEO GAMES is in trouble (he always says it like that, VIDEO GAMES) and that Jack and Jules need to solve these riddles to play the right music to recharge these crystals. The riddles often have multiple plausible answers and so they’ll usually play the “wrong�� song first before playing the “right” one, but the wizard would bully them and call them nerds when they got it wrong and it was very goofy and funny

eventually of course the wizard turns out to be evil and they have to explode his dick by overcharging the last crystal (via Jack’s death metal lyrics)

fabulous set list: Tal Tal Heights, Aquatic Ambience, Super Mario World Castle, Gourmet Race, Lavender Town, Green Hill Zone, Green Soil Brinstar, Bloody Tears, Otherworld, and always Megalovania as the finale

Jack and Jules are individually two of my very favorite musicians, and so of course I was happy to take a trip to go see them perform together when they put the first Shredventure together a few years ago, just like now

they also teased us with the prospect of “Shredventure 2 Battle,” and okay, A, excellent joke, and B, omgomgomgomg please yessssss

my bf and I wanted to stick around for Bit Brigade but we are old men and we needed to go back to the nest to sleep, sorry Bit Brigade, maybe in a future year

Home from MAGFest!

Gonna ramble for a while about MAGFest 2024, which was this past weekend! Feel free to mute the tag #MAGFest2024 if you don’t wanna see it.

I’m gonna go stream of consciousness so it probably won’t be too organized and I’m sure I’ll get some of the details wrong, so if you were there too and you’re like “hey, X didn’t play that song, Y did,” well, my bad

Anyway! Brought my bf along, and I’m wild about VGM and he knows nothing about it, but he wanted to come because he wanted to see me being excited and passionate about something and he’s just a real sweetie that way, is it any wonder why I love him? Before we went, I made sure that he at least knew what Megalovania sounds like, since it’s replaced One Winged Angel as the de facto “if you don’t have a specific theme this conflicts with, there’s a good chance you’re gonna end your set with this” song (and I’m here for it, I fucking love Megalovania, I don’t care if people think it’s overplayed, it’s super dope). We heard it 3.5 times over the weekend (one time was when Don Palombi’s Game Night played sans. but they mixed in some MV, so that’s the 0.5).

And yes, we did refer to our hotel room as the MAGFest Fag Nest 🏳️‍🌈

#MAGFest #magfest2024 #magfest 2024 #mag2024 #Vgm #Lacey johnson #toxicxeternity #familyjules #shredventure

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viacursecasting · 2 years ago

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Sonadow Scenario #66

Č̶̗̦̈́y̵̝̩͍͛be̵̜̜̿r̸̥̓sp̸̤͍͉̈́̾̈a̴̡̬̓͒ce.̶̙͙̊͒͠

I... I'm trying so hard to remember...

Revising places that were familiar to me was fun at first—the grassy plains of Green Hills, the winding paths of Chemical Plant Zone, the ancient ruins of Angel Island—but ironically, the more I visited these memories, the more I seemed to forget.

As I sped through the volcanic terrain of Chaos Island, a wave of fatigue hit me like a truck. At first I blamed it on the heat, but as I went to massage my forehead, my... my hand...!

It seemed to phase in and out of reality, like a glitch, with patches black as a void and red as blood. I almost forgot how I had gotten this way, but my mantra helped me remember.

"My name is Sonic. My friends are Tails, Knuckles, and Amy. I'm here to rescue them from Sage."

It got me thinking: Was Sage even my enemy? Sure, she may have thrown a few Titans my way, but for some reason, I felt like she was holding back. She had plenty of opportunities to kill me. Maybe there was good in her...

I decided to adjust my mantra. "My name is Sonic. My friends are Tails, Knuckles, and Amy. I'm here to rescue them... and Sage."

And the only way to do that was with the Chaos Emeralds. I looked to the distant horizon toward a beacon, surrounded by a sea of clouds and floating islands. It seemed impossible to get to. What I wouldn't give to have Tails fly us over there. Or have Knuckles glide us across.

Hell, at this point I wouldn't mind Shadow lending me a hand.

As soon as I thought of his name, I felt fluttery in my chest. I didn't want to think of him now—I would lose my focus—but I also didn't want to forget what he looked like.

I forced myself to imprint his features in my mind. Fur as black as a starless night. Voice deep and monotone. Feet as fast as mine—almost. Eyes—

Shit. What color were his eyes??

I racked my brain trying to remember. I knew it wasn't important, yet I felt like if I didn't remember, I was going to die. It was on the tip of my tongue and yet—

"Argh!" My headache pounded mercilessly, making my ears go numb. I decided to just focus on the task at hand, especially since I barely had the strength to drag my feet. "My name is Sonic. My friends are Tails, Knuckles, and Á̴̡m̸͂͜y̷̠͐. I'̸̿ͅm̴̛̟ ḧ̸̺́e̵̞͠ṟ̷̔e̴͍͂..."

Shoot. Why was I here? That beacon continued to call me, so started to make my way there in the hopes of remembering.

I ran across every rocky path and grinded on every rusty rail, yet the beacon seemed to be even farther now. Did I even need the Emerald? My lips read my mantra on their own.

"My name is So̸͇͝ni̸̹͗͗c̸̖̠̠̉. M̵̘̔y f̵̣͛rȉ̵̮end̷͓̎s a̷͍̅ṙ̶̼ȇ̷̙..."

I pounded my temples as if that would help spit the information out, but it was no use. The virus seemed to spread to my arms, but I was too exhausted to care. I fantasized about my hammock and how nice it would be to just nap for 50 years.

My thoughts went to Shadow again. I wondered if he thought about me as much as I thought about him. There I go, talking like a lovestruck puppy.

...Love? Was that what I...? No. I did not have feelings for a dark, brooding, moody hedgehog. I did not have feelings for his cool demeanor, his powerful abilities, or that shit-eating grin when he thinks he's bested me. I did not have feelings for the way he gazed at the night sky, looking like a work of art bathed in moonlight. I did not I did not I did not.

Then why was my heart beating so fast?

I needed to calm down. I started to recite out of habit. "M̴y̶ n̵a̴m̷e̶ i̵s̵.̴.̷.̸ ̵i̴s̶.̴.̵.̴"

...!? How... How could I forget my own name!?

I clawed at my quills, desperately trying to remember. The pain was unbearable—I felt like my head could burst any second—but I kept straining myself for the answer, trembling with the effort.

I fell to my knees. The memory was there, just barely out of reach. I wiped the sweat from my forehead as if clearing a path for the answer. I had to remember. I needed to remember!

My name. What was my fucking name!?

"Sonic."

That title sounded familiar, the voice even more so.

I craned my neck to find a black hedgehog staring down at me. I couldn't remember ever seeing those eyes look so worried.

Then again, I couldn't remember anything.

"M̵̤̤͓͐y̵̯̍̓͠ͅ.̴̡̖̂͌.̵̧͔̾.̸̗̖̍̀̋ ̶͕͑M̶̠̃̈́͘͜y̸̙̎͠ ̴̥̳̈͝ṉ̸̳̅̍ā̶̰m̵͎̯̎͜ē̶̫̩͓.̶̥͙͔͐̔.̸̜̏͝͝.̴̗̓"

The corruption spread to my muzzle, making it hard to speak.

But the hedgehog seemed to catch on. He put firm hands on my shoulders, looking me dead in the eye:

"Your name is Sonic. Your friends are Tails, Knuckles, and Amy. You're here to rescue them and Sage."

My breathing grew heavy. I heard the words but my brain seemed to have trouble processing them. So he recited the mantra for me again.

He kept doing so until my breathing evened, and the virus cleared away enough for me to repeat after him.

We continued to chant until my headache subsided, and I was able to look at him with a clear head. His name was unforgettable. "Thanks, Shadow."

He nodded, helping me get to my feet. I gave him a salute before heading toward the Emerald, my purpose renewed.

My name is Sonic. My friends are Tails, Knuckles, and Amy. I'm here to rescue them and Sage.

And his eyes are red.

#sonadow scenarios #sonadow #sth #sonic frontiers #first person #this was fun #might do Shadow next

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pwurrz · 2 years ago

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🍁 and 🌷?

🌷: what's your controversial opinion? (an opinion that is disliked by the fandom, a hot take basically)

mmmmmillie. oh millie. how i despise her. fuck millie, all my homies hate millie, this is a millie hating zone. first things first, what everybody always talks about when they talk about millie: she’s a terrible mother to 2/3rds of her children and you know what? bumblestripe didn’t turn out that great either! bumblestripe is an aggressive incel weirdo especially in recent arcs but we’re not here to talk about him.

millie is an awful mother to blossomfall. that is definitely a highly debated topic in this fandom and i will die on the hill of her being a terrible mother to blossomfall. you cannot look me in the eye and tell me a good mother would allow her daughter to think she wouldn’t care if she died!!! that’s fucked up!!! what’s also fucked up is her kinda proving blossomfall right by, instead of being concerned when her and ivypool come back from being missing in the tunnels (and blossomfall has a head injury that’s clearly visible) and millie just scolds her?? in front of everyone??? no concern no worry no nothing she’s just pissed she got lost and injured like what the fuck that’s supposed to be your child.

and i get it, i get that blossomfall is being abused and manipulated by the dark forest in order to think that her mother doesn’t love her and that she’s a terrible person for unwillingly being jealous of the attention her sister is receiving but like. the dark forest doesn’t make shit up outta nowhere. they prey on vulnerable cats and their complicated relationships with others. blossomfall, at the time blossompaw, was feeling unloved and neglected by her mother.

(and you know what i’m gonna slip on my tinfoil hat here and say she’d probably always felt distant from her mother because remember when they were kits? and millie and briarkit got green cough and had to be moved to the abandoned twoleg nest?? that probably created a rift between blossomkit and her mother due to circumstance and it also probably created an unhealthy codependency between briarlight and millie.)

what’s not so talked about tho is how awful she is to briarlight. like holy shit. acting like it would be better if she were dead rather than paralyzed?? saying that to jayfeather right in front of her???? her ableism and panic and aggression all had a huge negative impact of briarlight and her mental health and honestly?? her recovery as well. millie actively fought against jayfeather who was trying to help briarlight exercise so she wouldn’t get chronic chest infections and yknow.. die. and millie tried to stop him several times out of.. concern?? that briarlight was hurting?? she acts concerned but honestly i think it’s because she doesn’t see the point in keeping briarlight alive. she honestly believes that briarlight would be better off dead than disabled.

she is genuinely awful, she’s just as bad as rainflower and just because her abuse wasn’t outright malicious but instead seems to be coming from a place of concern doesn’t make it any better. you are actively hurting your child with your behaviour and words. there comes a point where you need to get over the trauma of the experience in order to support your now disabled child. a child who, by the way, is trying to have a positive outlook and is trying to live her life to the best of her ability. get it to together millie.

#and WHERE is graystripe during all of this like talk about an absent father?? hello???#he’s there like minimally he’s Mentioned as being there Sometimes #and his relationship with blossomfall and bumblestripe?? might as well be complete strangers #if you picked up graystripe’s vow without any prior knowledge you’d think he only has two children in feathertail and stormfur #like dude they are right there!! you don’t need to visit the tribe to see your son who’s a happily married grandfather #your youngest kids are right in your clan!! they live with you!! wtf!!!#i can’t get too into it i’ll talk forever about graystripe and his nonexistent children #anyways #inbox 💌#warrior cats #long post

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beinmybonnet · 4 years ago

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hmmm ok, joe/nicky "colour"

(classic seeing colour soulmates au BECAUSE ALL THE TROPES FEEL NEW WHEN YOU’VE GOT IMMORTALS)

- you see the world in black and white until the day you touch your soulmate. when they die, you lose the colour they brought to your life -

“Oh, that’s beautiful.”

Nile comes up on Joe’s right shoulder, mug of tea cupped between her palms.

“Thank you.” He shuffles over so she can sit beside him on the bench, moving aside his paints. She’s studying his work intently.

“The shades here are perfect,” she tells him, eyes darting between the painting and the view before them, “it’s like the shadows are lifting off the canvas. What colours have you used?”

Joe’s smile is wide, and he flips his paintbrush to gesture with the end. “Here, whites and greys for the houses at the bottom of the hill. Here,” he points the handle higher, “yellows with pink, and then some red here, just as the sun rose.”

“So, that would be orange right here? Pale though?” she points at the right splash of colour and Joe turns, brow lifting in surprise. “Art History with a focus on colour differentials,” she says proudly. “My professor said I had the best monochromatic eye he’d ever seen.”

Joe promptly slides the paints across the bench and picks his spare canvas up off the grass. “Join me?”

“Really?” Nile grins, bright and eager as he hands her a brush. She hovers over the paints for a moment, chewing her lip between her teeth. Her eyes rove determinedly over the unlabelled paints and the sky, before she plucks up a purple pot. Joe has to resist the urge to wrap his arm round her shoulders.

Back when Joe had first leaned to draw, colour had meant nothing to him. He’d had chalks and charcoals as a child and had lost hours to sweeping strokes across paving stones. He’d learned to differentiate between subtle shadows and muted tones, blending new greys between his fingertips to smudge over his clothing.

Black, white and the thousand shades between them were comfortable and sure. Colour was just, unnecessary. As he grew, he was gifted graphite and dark inks and a roll of rough parchment was always tucked against his hip. He could recreate everything his eye could see and his mind could form with the two fundamentals in his hands. All his most treasured early memories remain this way; his mother’s shining ebony hair, the smoky shade of her skin. The bright white of his father’s teeth as he spun her around in front of their home.

But there’s still no denying that colour changed everything. Colour that had come into his world with all the subtlety of the man at its source. Suddenly his life had burst into bold tints and fierce hues; endless possibilities for him to explore with paints and oils and pastels. Nine hundred years to experiment with the vibrancy of the world around him.

He and Nile reach for the blue together and smile.

Nicky’s got his eye pressed tight to his scope when everything fades.

He’s dialling left, settling his weight into his hips and then a curtain of heavy grey drops across his view. He rears back rubbing at his eyes, trying to force the colours back.

“Shit… just- Book, hold up!” Andy’s voice crackles out of the earpiece Nicky’s placed on the rooftop beside him. He scrambles to jam it back in.

“Andy-”

“Take the shot Nicky.” There’s shouting coming from below and Andy is swearing vehemently. “I’ve got him, just take the shot!”

He lurches back into position trying to clear his mind. It’s all wrong though, the shadows too dark and his depth perception is ruined -he’ll have to start all over. The dilution of his vision is making his heart thump erratically, and he has to count breaths in his head to keep himself still enough to reline up the shot.

Seconds later, the target steps out of the blackness and Nicky fires. The bullet cracks off the window frame, striking home at a cruel angle. He swears under his breath; it wasn’t clean, but he doesn’t care – the job’s done. He just needs to find Joe.

He takes the stairs at a speed that leaves his knees numb. At the extraction point, the van is already moving away as the door slides open. Nicky hurls his gear in and leaps after it. He gets the briefest glimpse of eyes too dark, and thick pewter stains across a torso before the door is slammed shut and he’s hauling Joe into his arms. They collide with a thump and Nicky quickly tucks his face against the grey skin of Joe’s neck with his eyes clenched shut. A hand burrows under the edge of his tactical gear until he feels the warmth at the small of his back.

Nicky pulls back to open his eyes and relief has him sagging further into the arms around him. Warm tawny skin shines against the dark khaki of Joe’s vest. He drags his mouth up the rich line of his throat, reluctant to break contact.

“Sorry.” Joe’s expression is chagrined when he lifts his head. “Got pinned down.”

There’s a smear of blood at the corner of Joe’s mouth, the newly crimson stain brash and mocking. Nicky rubs at it with a gloved thumb until the skin is clean and then presses his mouth gratefully to his favourite colour.

“A lilac ribbon in her hair. First colour I ever saw.”

The slight waver in his voice makes Nile wonder if she’s over-stepped again, if she’s put her foot in some unknown no-go zone and she opens her mouth to apologise. But Booker’s smiling, and that in itself is rare enough that Nile waits.

“It happened in a crowd. Must have been a hundred people in the square, easily…” his smile is widening. “God, it would have been so easy to have missed her. Soldiers were separating people, everyone was running and pushing and we just… brushed hands.”

Booker lifts his hand from his lap and turns it over slowly. “The back of her hand touched mine as she ran past. That was all.” He touches that spot, a glance of his finger. “I looked back, and her ribbon was lilac. But it was so busy, I lost sight of her in the rush.”

“But you found her again?” Nile has her head propped on her hands, trying not to sound too eager. Booker laughs gruffly.

“She found me. Came back for me.” He’s gripping his own hand tightly now, nails biting at the skin. “Lilac ribbon, hair like honey. Everything else came after that.”

“She sounds lovely.”

Booker looks up at her properly, and Nile’s acutely aware that whilst now they see the world in the same shades, it wasn’t always that way.

His voice is soft. “She was.”

Joe barely has time to shout before his world is plunged back into negatives, colour leaching from his vision. He’s scrambling, sliding in the pool of viscous grey he knows is blood as it spreads around Nicky’s skull.

He moves to cup Nicky’s face and can’t bear it. The sharp edge of his cheekbone throws dark shadows over his too pale face. Flecks and streaks of black over his skin; blood or dust or ash, Joe can’t tell anymore and the panic is rising in his throat. He can’t look at Nicky’s colourless eyes – he can’t- he’ll carry the sight with him too long.

He tears his head away, his own eyes clenched shut – but before he has time to pray, to plead, Nicky is gasping beneath him. The breath Joe releases is sticky and harsh, and he’s curling forward in his relief. Their hands collide quickly against each other’s forearms in an instinctive, accustomed clasp, and colours start seeping back immediately. The first to return are the shades of blue; bright aegean tones bursting in Nicky’s wide eyes, chased into existence by familiar notes of green. The weight lifts off Joe’s chest and for a moment he just breathes, air that tastes sweet and smooth as his other senses adjust to the disruption.

Then Nicky’s rolling. “Let’s go, Andy.”

They’re stood close enough to see the tremble in Andy’s arm as she reaches for Quynh’s face for the first time in over four hundred years.

Joe is frozen at his side, and Nicky’s breath is jammed somewhere in the base of his throat. He can’t believe this is actually happening.

Andy’s hand falters just shy of Quynh’s cheek with a ragged sound, fingers hovering. She opens her mouth to speak but Quynh reaches up and clamps the hand desperately to her face with her own. They shudder so violently Nicky wonders for a moment if the ground has physically quaked.

He knows the sensation well; that fierce swoop in the stomach. Like he’s stepped into free fall as the world saturates around him at Joe’s first touch. When they can reach each other quickly after a death, colour comes back in slow, precious increments; the shining browns of Joe’s eyes, or the dusky pink that rises in the shell of his ear. The longest they’ve gone after a death was four days. Four days in an east Indian jungle trapped in wet, translucent tones of black and white, the frustration building until he’d screamed at the sky. When he’d finally gotten his hands on Joe, grasping desperately at his bared shoulders, colour returning was an immediate detonation that had left his whole body throbbing for hours.

Nicky can’t even begin to imagine what Andy and Quynh feel in this moment.

They go down as one, limbs folding together as they collapse into the dirt. Clutching at each other as their worlds transform. Quynh has Andy’s face trapped between her own palms now and is sobbing, laughing, trying to pull her closer. Andy’s tears are silent, but steady. Her eyes flitting over Quynh’s face in awe while she runs trembling fingertips over rosy cheeks she can see.

Joe is squeezing his hand so tightly his fingers have gone numb, but the rush of joy in Nicky’s chest is golden and fierce. To stop himself moving forwards to pull Quynh into his own arms, he steps behind Joe and tugs him back, arms looping firmly around his middle.

“See? We are meant to find each other,” he whispers. Joe chuckles wetly against him.

On the ground, Quynh is smiling through her tears. “You’re beautiful Andromache,”

Andy hums hoarsely and runs her hands over Quynh’s arms, coming up to cradle her collar through the thick fabric of her coat. Her fingers rub at the material and Nicky knows the scarlet shade must be iridescent to her eyes. Andy lifts a thumb to Quynh’s lower lip.

“Red always was your colour.”

adriana i’m so sorry this took so long. i physically couldn’t stop it getting longer and longer and then i got really stuck and it was a whole mess.

#the old guard #the old guard fic #joe x nicky #andy x quynh #soulmates au #userkayla #usermarwan #usercacau #tuserceleste #userbones #userlyde #usershan #tusermj #idk what happened here #can't write 5 sentences like a normal person #mine #prompt

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pallasperilous · 4 years ago

Text

Boneless Wings

{AO3 version}

So, blah blah blah, it’s their standard-issue disaster: pack of dumbass witches (always with the dumbass witches. Where do they find the time for this shit? Somebody get these women signed up for a Peloton subscription or a macramé class or a vibrator of the month club, seriously, whatever it takes—), ancient curse, Castiel being the actual angel of stepping in it, nobody cares.

The point is, two hundred and forty-one hours of binge-worthy drama later, Dean and Cas are living in a semi-detached just a short thirty-minute commute to somewhere equally lame, Castiel has two literal-ass wings, and yes, Susan, they kiss now.

The neighbors are weirdly cool with it.

For those of you perving along at home, Dean could absolutely provide a list of the hundred or so ways that having a boyfriend* with giant fucking actual wings is super hot and/or awesome.

This is not that list.

(*you can just shut right the fuck up , Sam, because it’s either this or Dean will start saying lover. And nobody needs that. Nobody wants that.)

1. Bird mites. Holy shit.

2. Sharing a bathroom. The shower curtain rod, and consequently the security deposit, are early casualties. The medicine cabinet follows swiftly behind. Shower hijinks are not even an option.

3. Dean comes home one day from a gig and there is a giant plastic green turtle in the backyard. A closer inspection reveals that the turtle is actually a mule for about half a truck bed of industrial dust ‘n grit. It is, in fact, a kiddie sandbox. Dean points out that they do not, in fact, have a small child (FINGERS CROSSED), so...?

Cas then earnestly shows him an entire playlist of exotic birdy dust bath videos on Youtube.

Dean then earnestly shows him the garden hose.

4. The down just gets, like...everywhere. EVERYWHERE. How many times have Sam and Dean practically sold their kidneys for a single angel feather for some dumb spell to solve some pointless Occult McProblem? And now Dean is picking them out of his damn teeth every morning. (No, gross, not because of... Jesus, no, that is not a thing.)

On the upside of this one, Dean finally has an excuse to buy a Dyson, which he’s secretly always thought looked awesome. It is.

5. When Dean is scraping out the umpteenth canister of fluff he jokingly suggests they use some of it to supplement the tragically flaccid down comforter currently shaming their bed, and Castiel pitches an existential fucking sulk. Dean wants to experience happiness again, so he does not point out that it get ass-bitingly cold here this time of year, and decent bedding is not exactly inexpensive, and the Dyson kind of maxed them out on household purchases.

But whatever.

6. Castiel is indulging in what Dean thinks of as a sky pout when he flies right into a head-on with li’l Timmy NextDoor’s new Christmas surveillance drone. It dings the shit out of one of Cas’s left primary feathers (the scientific term is “those big motherfuckers”), which apparently hurts like a bitch. Cas is grounded for a few weeks after that and is cutely pathetic about it and at first Dean is absolutely down to kiss it better. By the end, Dean is almost ready to strangle Cas with his own necktie, but he has learned a lot of surprisingly interesting stuff about ancient Mesopotamia, like that it was super horny.

7. After the snow melts, Dean starts finding shit on the front step with the morning paper. It’s not even a good newspaper; Cas signed them up for the local fish-wrapper (or maybe it was Sam, before he fled for the hills— he occasionally breaks out in a “support local journalism” rash). The crossword puzzle is insulting, but the paper does at least syndicate Carolyn Hax, whom Dean secretly suspects of being an absolute wildcat in the sack, so he grudgingly expends the calories to bring it in every morning.

Anyway, at first the stuff he discovers crapping up the welcome mat is just shiny bits of trash — couple granola wrappers, some MGD pull-tabs, a few field-stripped twisty-ties. Probably just windblown, and he tosses it in the garbage can.

Then a couple weeks in, things start getting...grisly? It escalates real slowly, from a variety platter of mouse bits to squirrel à la power line and then half of a dry-aged raccoon and an opossum that has recently graduated from playing dead to professional dead-being. The neighborhood crows obviously love that their front step is now a roadkill café; Dean has to bat increasing numbers of them away with the kitchen broom in order to relocate their horrible snack to the edge of the nearest storm drain.

Then one morning there are like twenty crows and they’re in just the cutest little football huddle-up around what turns out to be a human fucking finger with a retro-fun mood ring still on the knuckle (it’s feeling: Sad) and Dean fully loses his shit.

Cas hears him freaking out and comes whomping out of the garage ready to, whatever, flap somebody to death maybe, but as soon as he establishes that Dean doesn’t need anything more than a fresh pair of boxers, he de-poofs a bit and assesses the whole human finger/crows situation in his usual infuriatingly unrushed way. The crows had mostly bounced up to the cable line over the house, safely out of brooming range, but one by one they start to drop down and hippity-hop back towards the world’s tiniest crime scene.

If Dean were five percent less freaked he’d be tempted to go inside and find out how much of a dent he can make in a six-pack before Castiel finally dings and spits out his results, but he isn’t, so he just stands there in silence clutching the broom like it’s a shotgun.

Eventually Cas says “hm,” and then he looks at the crows and makes some noises that sound like a spoon caught in a garbage disposal, and the crows make some scrawps and chuks back, and then one of them delicately noodges the tip of dead finger with its beak and then hippity hops back a foot or two, bows, and then they all fly away over the shitty little beige duplex across the street like they’re running ten minutes late to an important bird appointment.

Castiel stands up (Dean reflexively backs up into the doorway, as this involves Cas bomfing out his wings a bit for ballast and Dean has caught a blow to the nuts on more than one occasion), dusts off his goddamn slacks, pulls a plastic evidence baggie out of thin goddamn air or maybe his socks, and casually bags the finger like they’re doing a standard FBI wheeze. “So what,” Dean says, as Cas diligently zips the baggie, “the fuck?”

“Oh,” Cas says, blinking in surprise that Dean is still there and interested, “they think I’m their god.”

Dean kind of stares back at him, the six feet of dude and like sixteen feet of bird, and thinks sure, okay, but his face must still be stuck on “Tippi Hedren attic scene” because Cas puts a reassuring hand on Dean’s shoulder and adds “Don’t worry. I’ve told them I don’t require further offerings, and I reassured them that you’re my consort and were simply jealous of other potential mates.”

It takes Dean two weeks to come up with a response to that, but by then it’s become evident that no bird is ever going to shit on the Impala again, so he decides to just chalk it up in the win column and move on.

You know. The family business.

8. No matter how tightly he folds them, Cas can’t fit his wings through the definitely-not-up-to-code doorway of the wood-paneled family rec room in the basement, so Dean claims it as his man cave and dubs it the “No Fly Zone.”

Castiel doesn’t find this funny, but Dean really only uses it to fold laundry.

9. Transpo is an obvious issue. Cas can almost stuff himself into the Impala if he sort of reverse-cowgirls the back seat, but then the wingtips smoosh up against the windshield and Dean’s visibility is approximately zip. And, sure, Cas could fly himself anywhere they really needed to go, he’s basically a Chevy Of The Air, but sometimes it’s raining, and the seraph Castiel — Shield of God, Heavenly Soldier of the Lord, multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent, will smell like a wet fucking chicken for days afterward. Febreze does not help.

Dean spends a few nauseating weeks contemplating the purchase of — and here he learns that the human gag reflex can be conditioned, but never truly eradicated — a convertible. Once Cas brings up the possibility of a minivan or perhaps a station wagon (he’s taken to studying family motor vehicles with all the intensity of a birder with a life list) and Dean makes him sleep on the couch.

Dean gets his own living room rotation after he shows Cas a Craigslist posting for a very reasonably priced horse trailer. Castiel points out that it’s used and Dean notes that neither of them is exactly mint in original packaging either. Castiel points out that he’s not a horse, and after a few necessary but admittedly unoriginal jokes, Dean pulls up a website with an exhaustive photographic tutorial on how to convert a horse trailer “for the safe and sanitary transport of ostriches, emus, and/or cassowaries.” Cas points out that he’s not an ostrich, emu, and/or cassowary, and Dean counters that he clearly isn’t, because an emu would probably show a little more gratitude, and that’s how Dean learns that the couch has a broken spring under the left cushion. The transpo issue remains unresolved.

10. Dean keeps a pair of shop-grade safety goggles by his side of the bed. It’s not the sexiest look, but it turns out feathers are stabby as hell when encountered at a particular angle. Cas can do the healy thing, of course, but they learn the hard way that cornea perforation is not really a mood enhancer. On the bright side, Castiel accidentally corrects Dean’s incipient presbyopia, which means Dean doesn’t have to hold the newspaper at arm’s length anymore when he’s idly speculating what Carolyn Hax looks like below the neck. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.

11. You’d think that, when you’re coming down from a time-limited but incurable curse that makes you feel like every cell of your body has its own cute little individual headcold — because you missed a hex bag due to the fact that you were preparing your legal response to Sam turning up to the hunt wearing a goddamn hair scrunchy, as if he were fresh off the set of a very special episode of Clarissa Explains It All — anyway, you’d think that being wrapped in the warm embrace of an angel’s wings would be nice.

But you would be wrong, because apparently your boyfriend has been out communing with the bees again, and those feathers pick up ragweed pollen like it’s their goddamn job, and guess what else angels can’t cure? Dean will take Motherfucking Seasonal Allergies for 600, Alex.

12a. One of the neighbors has that homesteading hippie brain disease that drives an otherwise normal-seeming person to brew their own beer and raise a bunch of chickens despite living within five hundred yards of a fully functioning Hy-Vee. There’s a week where one of the wee little velociraptors seems to be processing some kind of trauma because it starts yelling at dawn and keeps going until well past the hour that swearing is allowed on network TV.

When Dean finally hammers on the front door the next afternoon the neighbor apologizes with some extremely nasty home-brew (HIPPIES) and some absolutely devastating weed (HIPPIES!) and explains that “Ginger is going through a rough molt” and then he kind of nods his head towards Dean’s side of the fence where Cas is futzing around in the squash plants and stage whispers (this is a direct quote) “You know how they get.”

Dean is about to rip the dude a new one for comparing his immortal space-kaiju lover to a fucking Australorp yard pullet when Castiel pops his head up over the white pickets and breezily contributes “Bad molt, yes, those are terrible, Dean can tell you all about how insufferable I am those weeks,” and sometimes Dean just doesn’t know why he even tries.

12b. The less said about angel molt, the better.

Seriously, the freakin’ eyes-on-his-hands naked mole rat dude from, whatsit, Pan’s Labyrinth of Subtitles, would run screaming from this shit.

13. There’s a 4th of July BBQ Potluck Block Party and Dean’s inability to stand idly by while good meat is abused ( shut up Sam ) means he winds up manning the grill and dismissing the pretenders to set some strictly inedible things on fire. Cas hangs out next to him and uses his flappers to kinda whupf the smoke away from Dean’s eyes now and then, which rules. It’s actually a pretty chill event until Sharon and Don From Number 4267, The Green House With The White Trim, turn up with a giant Pyrex full of naked, still-marinating teriyaki wings.

Sharon And Don look down at their wings and then up at Castiel and then down at the wings and then up at Castiel and they are clearly teetering on the edge of a Midwestern politeness failure-based nervous breakdown. But then Cas, smooth as a margarine commercial, gently takes the dish from Sharon’s frozen hands, examines the contents for a silent moment, and says “it’s alright. They weren’t personal friends.”

He gets an extra burger for that one.

14. Cas keeps absent-mindedly trying to groom Dean — who, in case it still needs to be said at this point, possesses zero-point-zero feathers of his own — so he goes after Dean’s hair, instead. Dean has to stop him after his second hour of trying to straighten out a cowlick. “I don’t understand how you can steer properly with this deformity,” Cas says, as if it’s a genuine miracle that Dean isn’t constantly careening over ottomans like Dick Van Dyke. He’s even more horrified by Dean’s (frankly minimal) use of hair gel. “Jesus, Cas, it’s not like I’m drinking it,” he says, but then one time they have an epic make-out session shortly after Dean performs his masculine beauty rituals and there’s some smearage of various types of Product (tm) on the flappy areas.

And, sonuvabitch, for the next six hours Cas is spirographing around the house like he has a heavenly inner ear infection, and he only stops veering into the doorframes after Dean wipes down every. Single. Feather. With mineral oil and about eighteen clean shop cloths. Dean switches to something called hair wax, which costs thirty zillion times more per ounce and makes him smell vaguely like church, but is a lot less gloppy. The things we do for love.

15. Seating inside the house is a bit of a conundrum, too. Cas can kind of flop his wings out to the sides if he sits in the middle of the couch, but then Dean’s stuck on the recliner, which is basically in the next county. Bar stools are disastrously tippy, Dean’s lower back and hips have not endured mumble-mumble years of hunting just to be subjected to a damn beanbag chair, and, after a brief flurry of optimistic excitement, Dean determines that they’d have to take the front door off to get a massage chair in. He finds a swing online that if, he can get the hardware properly installed in the crossbeam, is rated for up to 500 pounds, so he texts Cas the URL so he can check out the specs. After half an hour he writes back —

CASTIEL: Dean

CASTIEL: I believe this swing is intended for sexual congress.

DEAN: ...

CASTIEL: I can infer from the ellipsis that you have spent several minutes attempting to draft a response.

DEAN: ...

CASTIEL: Dean

DEAN: it’s multipurpose

16 . On the plus side, though, big-ass wings make for a pretty good drying rack. He can get every sock in the house laid out on those suckers in a single round and, one episode of Dr. Sexy later, they’re perfectly dry and toasty warm, without any of the pair-busting casualties Dean has learned to expect from the apparently socknivorous dryer in the basement.

Dean assumes it’s just the product of good air circulation and body heat until he realizes that he hasn’t had to toss a pair for being too worn out in...maybe six months? So he asks Cas “Are your wings... healing the socks” and after an entire Abbott and Costello routine centering around heal versus heel, Dean determines that the answer is: yes, his boyfriend’s wings are channeling the almighty power of Heaven to magically repair the socks Dean buys at Target in twelve-pack bags. On sale.

This is actually kind of sexy, if Dean is being perfectly honest, so, you know what? It doesn’t belong on this list.

16. So nobody really freaks out or bursts into tears or calls the news or the FBI or anything when Cas goes out in public with him, which Dean is secretly a little disappointed about, because come on. (Maybe giant wings just reads as a gay thing? Was there an episode of Will and Grace about this that Dean missed back when he was ass deep in wendigos or something?)

But no. Dudes tend to just glance at them across the Home Depot parking lot, throw them the Mutual Dude Acknowledgement Nod, and say some shit like “Comic-con,” or “nice anime” in a knowing tone. Then they go back to rolling their carts full of gaskets or hammers or whatever back to their mom’s station wagon.

Little girls tend to go googly-eyed — Castiel seems to fall into the same category as a Disney princess, despite the stubble and the drabcore wardrobe, and Dean can’t count the number of times some mom has approached Dean at the grocery store (like he’s Castiel’s manager?? Which, okay...yeah, actually) and asked if they do birthday parties. The money would actually be pretty tempting if Dean weren’t five thousand percent sure that Cas would get them both arrested by launching into an anatomy lesson about duck sex or how God is a loser who favors relaxed fit jeans and Wild Turkey.

The worst is white ladies of a Certain Age, and it always seems to happen in the pudding aisle, for some reason. They either go cross-eyed with horniness and become indiscriminately handsy (Dean can’t blame them for the impulse, but also back off, Karen), or ask Cas for prayers for their cat’s chronic asshole problems (which Castiel WILL take seriously).

Worst of all is when some hippie spinster clocks them. This woman inevitably reaches right for the feathers and asks in a willowy voice if they’d ever consider turning some of them into dreamcatchers to sell at her studio, which is literally always named The Faerie’s Glen. Then Cas gets confused about why, exactly, a sixty year-old WASP in a peasant skirt would need to call on the infant-protection powers of an Ojibwe spider goddess, while Dean just wants to bite the lady’s fingers off.

Either way, it’s always a bad scene, and many fully loaded grocery carts have been lost to the fallout.

17. For some metaphysical reason Dean is too dumb to suss out but also too smart to question, lugging a pair of Cessna-sized flappers around this mortal dimension actually seems to tucker Cas out. He doesn’t need to zonk out every night, but he semi-regularly throws in the towel and actually crawls in with Dean for the duration.

This would be swell in theory, but the guy absolutely cannot settle the fuck down in less than three (3) human hours, which is the exact amount of sleep Dean requires to maintain his famously sunny demeanor. It’s not just ye olde tossing and turning — Dean can handle that, sharing a bed with Sam is like sleeping next to a kangaroo with restless leg syndrome — no, it’s a nonstop parade of little flippy-flappies and shiffle-shuffles and spontaneous outbursts of preening.

So Dean makes him a Baby Sleep Sack.

This is something Dean knows about due solely to one super dumb hunt involving a banishing sigil that had to be drawn in — he still feels like this had to be a misprint — human breastmilk, and that was obviously not happening. But the monster of the week wasn’t going to banish itself, so they wound up at the nearest Walmart, at 4am, picking up what turned about to be an unnecessarily generous supply of baby formula, along with a fresh box of shotgun shells because God bless America*. It doesn’t work, although “lots of stabbing” turns out to be a solid fallback plan, but the point is that while Sam was debating between Digestion Support or Neurological Development, Dean acquired an unprecedented familiarity with some of the products currently available to the sleep-deprived parent. So Dean finds some DIY Baby Sleep Sack knockoff patterns online and determines he can replicate and scale up the concept with some beach towels and duct tape, and the next morning he presents the lumpy but totally functional prototype to Castiel.

Initially Cas thinks it’s a sex thing (reasonable, it probably is), but once they clear up that misunderstanding, he’s obviously a little peeved by the concept of being swaddled as if he were a gassy baby instead of a deathless sky monster in a sexy dude-shaped can. But Dean must be giving off some serious man on the edge vibes because Cas grudgingly agrees to let Dean tape him up the next time he’s feeling dozy.

It’s real awkward and takes forever to get Cas bundled up right, and then he’s just kind of lying there on top of the sheets, like an enormous, grumpy baked potato.

“I could easily break out of these restraints,” he says in a pissy tone after Dean has crawled in and turned off the light, and Dean rolls over to tell him “no shit”, but then he has to stop himself because the guy is already asleep.

Eventually they upgrade to a version made out of some of those trendy weighted blanket things, a few yards of parachute silk, and a whole lot of velcro. The dude looks so damn peaceful that Dean is honestly a little jealous.

*he doesn’t, actually.

18. There’s a sunny afternoon that isn’t the usual Kansas is trying to murder you level of humid so Dean rolls the Impala out into the street for a wash. Cas helps him out a bit initially, although tragically not in a way that involves removing any unnecessary articles of clothing, but Deans sends him to grab a new tub of wax from the shed and he never comes back. After half an hour Dean needs a beer break and goes looking for him, expecting to find Cas lost in thought over whether Turtle Wax is made of actual turtles, or is made to put on actual turtles. Instead he finds Cas crouched on the shimmering pavement at the back of the driveway, sun beating down on him like it has a personal vendetta, and he’s got both wings stretched out real low above the ground. Dean kind of flips out because it’s the type of pose that just screams “stabbed in gut by angel blade” or “migraine from Hell, literally.”

Then Cas looks up, which pulls his wings up a smidge too, which in turn reveals that fully half a dozen neighborhood cats are lounging in the shady patch beneath his wings, spread out on the concrete like blobs of furry peanut butter. No, it’s actually eight cats. There are eight cats.

“Ling-Ling was feeling a little overheated,” Cas says, as if this explains everything.

And, you know what, at this point, it does.

19. Dean has faith that eventually Sam or Cas or the third demon from the left in the second row will turn up a solution for the whole business. Castiel will get to tuck those bad boys back into the secret wing-closet dimension and he won’t have to worry about getting stuck in stairwells anymore, or being reported to the FAA (again). Then they can finally pack up the house, plaster over the more egregious spots of drywall damage, and go back to killing things outside of the tri-county area. The whole thing has been a pretty embarrassing interlude for a couple of dudes who’ve kicked Satan’s ass multiple times — Sam is probably telling other hunters that they’ve been deep undercover to take out a nest of suburban vampires, or a pack of ghouls with mortgages, instead of vacuuming angel down out of the AC unit and considering a Costco membership.

And sure, there have been some...serious pluses to the situation (see: the other list), but, in his weaker moments, Dean has to admit that he’s kind of going to miss some of the goofy, irritating shit, too — like finding a six-inch feather in the veggie crisper (how? why?), or watching Cas fwap his wings out just in time to accidentally clothesline a jogger, or even the strangely compelling, sorta cheesy smell that starts to float around the house if Cas goes a little too long between hosedowns.

He has actually grown fond of this shit. Which is 100% the least sexy thing on earth, it’s some genuinely, seriously pathetic goo goo crap, and that’s why nobody will ever hear a fucking word about it. People will ask “so what’s it like, with the wings” and Dean will waggle his eyebrows suggestively and review the highlight reel over an inadvisable amount of rail whiskey. His secret’s safe with, well. Him.

20. Seriously though, the bird mites.

Gross.

#deancas #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #wingfic #or maybe...#wingsquick #spn fanfic #spn fanart #spn crack #sorry everybody #now with pictures!#pallasperilous art #pallasperilous fic #pallasperilous crack

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jadedxrealityw · 4 years ago

Text

-Second And Third Chance- Tony Stark x Female Reader

☼-☪-☼

Kody: favorite dilf- i’m sorry lmao

Movie/Show: after endgame. but no one is dead because i’m still in denial.

Summary: (Backstory included) Being the fiancee of Tony Stark was all you could dream of, but not everyone is perfect and Tony is certainly no saint. Even with Thanos being gone, Tony is still obsessing on how to keep you safe from other worldly beings, but due to his own ignorance ends up losing you all by himself.

Possible Triggers / Warnings: angst with fluff ending, cursing, Tony being Tony, F.R.I.D.A.Y and Wanda being your besties lmao,

☼-☪-☼

you wondered how you were ever came across such a man. Narcissistic, arrogant, just completely full of himself in every way possible. You had met the infamous Tony Stark at a shield ball/party so long ago. He was charming, you’ll admit, but you were fully aware of his playboy status.

you wore a long black off the shoulder dress that started skin tight at the top and flowy at the bottom, also sporting a slit down the side of the dress. Some said hi and gave you compliments on your outfit. You wanted to find Fury so you could talk to him as he was the only person you really knew.

walking along the floor a woman holding a platter of drinks offered you one and you gladly accepted it. You spotted Fury a few tables away, talking amongst Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers. Once you made it over, you slipped yourself into a empty seat.

Fury noticed you first and patted your shoulder “Didn’t think these parties were your scene Agent L/n” he spoke with his usual formality. You hummed into the glass of wine as you took a sip “They are not, but i needed a reason to drink” you admitted, earning a chuckle from Natasha.

you then took the time to look at both of them and smile “Natasha Steve. Still doing the whole saving the world thing?” you say. Steve cracks a smile and nods once “The world can’t seem to give us a break” he says. A chuckle bubbled in your throat “Not that you would take it though, right cap?”

you four spent a good thirty minutes talking about the usual, until Maria Hill showed up then you got to talking about new missions that he Fury only trusted you all with. You were like Fury third in command. Someone Maria had recommended if something would have ever happened to her.

not to long Natasha and Steve had left the party earlier then expected, but they were always in the rush. You, Fury, and Maria were now standing next to the table. Maria’s phone rang and she slipped it from her bag and pressed the green button “Yes?...Give me ten minutes”

she hung it up and put it back in her bag. Fury looked at her with a questioning stare “I’m going to assume Romanoff or Rogers were on the end of that line. Would the rest of us be needed?” he asked. Maria shook her head “No. Just a minor problem. I’ll call if it escalates”

Fury nods once and gestures with his head to the exit, dismissing her. They were so loyal to each other. Maria then sends you a polite smile before exiting the ballroom. You placed your cup on the table were you all resided minutes ago “Should we be concerned?” you ask.

he shakes his head “They’ll be fine. I like to come in at the end anyway, makes me alluring” he says, making you stifle a bit of laughter. “Right” you agreed not really wanting to dwell in that subject. Only seconds later is when an unfamiliar voice spoke “Nick”

both you and Fury turn around and see the nice tailored suit belonging to the less nice man of Tony Stark. Fury cracks a small grin and holds his hand out “Stark, fashionably late” he points out. Tony grabs his hand and shakes it “Well if i wasn’t i’d be stuck looking like you losers.”

did this grown man just call you both losers? Okay then. You folded your arms over your chest, not really paying much attention to there very testosterone filled conversation. Tony eyes removed themselves from Fury and looked at you “and who is this?” he asked.

you removed your eyes from the people walking past you and looked towards the billionaire “ This is Agent L/n. works alongside Agent Hill and myself” Fury explains. You give Tony a polite nod “It’s Y/n L/n” you say. Tony grins and went to say something more when Fury coughed.

“I’m going to use the bathroom. Tony don’t be weird” he spoke before leaving you both by your lonesome. Great. “May i offer you another drink?” he asked and you shook your head “I already had one and i have to be alert at all times. It’s in the job description. Very fine print”

“Sounds like you need a vacation or a xanax” he makes a face, earning a small smile from you “Maybe, but i like my job too much” you reply. Tony steps to the side and gestures with his hand for you to walk. You didn’t see much wrong with that, just a friendly stroll. Why not.

you step in forward and Tony lifts his arm up a bit for you to link yours. ‘What a charmer’ you thought before slipping your arm through his. YOu both began to walk slowly through the ballroom “So what does your significant other think about how much you work?” he asked.

‘very slick’ “I don't have a boyfriend or girlfriend at the moment. Tried dating on the job, but no one really understands how much working here changes you in a way” you explained, Tony nodding along with your answer. Being an Agent had its perks and downfalls.

“Why did you get into this line of work, if you don’t mind me asking?” Tony questions. It was strange seeing him be so genuine with his wording, the complete opposite of what Fury, Steve, Natasha, or Maria had to say about him. It was pleasant.

you gulp, a few choice memories deciding to flood your mind “I worked CIA with my sister for awhile. Our whole family was worked in some form of Government job. Then the 2012 attack happened and we were told to stand down. Me and my sister were stubborn so we didn’t”

you inhale deeply and managed to keep your formal smile upon your face despite the urge to down another glass of wine and call it a night “No one knew about aliens back then, but we wanted to help people in any way we could. In hindsight it was very stupid of us”

your mind began to wander to something else, the smile fading from your face and be replaced with a blank stare. For an expression so neutral it would be hard to tell that you were reliving a terrible memory. Crashing, a blood curdling scream, your pleas, and a then silence.

Tony looked at you once you had stopped talking abruptly and used his free hand to pat your shoulder. You broke out of whatever horrific trance you were in “Sorry, zoned out- anyway my sister ended up passing, i was charged with treason funny enough, but Fury convinced them to drop the charges”

Tony chose to ignore the brief daze you were in for your own sake and you two continued your stroll. The night ended with more talking and much needed laughter. He also offered you a ride home and you gladly took him up on that. It was really nice.

when you got to your house he asked you on a date to a very nice restaurant near your place. You accepted even though your brain was telling you not to. On the day of the date you ended up being called in and canceled. He said he understood and that you could reschedule anytime.

you never did go on that date

☼-☪-☼

just like most things it only happened once and you figured that was that. Spending a couple magical hours talking to Tony Stark would be any girls dream and just like dreams you awoke to reality. You had a job and had many other important things to do beside fantasize about a billionaire.

that was until Hydra took over Shield in 2014, you and Fury faked your deaths. Tony actually went to your funeral, wearing sunglasses and standing away from everybody. It was pretty sad, but you had a job to do. fury actually came back, but you stayed in hiding.

then in 2015 when Ultron was a the main problem and you were itchy to bash some robots skulls in- wait they don’t have skulls. Whatever, Fury wouldn’t get involved. Then Sokovia became a giant plane and Fury caved. After a year of doing grunt work you could finally fight.

all the staff, including you loaded up a helicarrier. You made your way to the command center where Fury and Maria resided “Ah Agent Y/n. Glad that you could join us. Already suited up i see?” Fury points to your all black outfit and mask.

shrugging, you walked towards the front “I’ve been ‘dead’ for a year, cut me some slack for being excited” you say. Fury nods, agreeing with your statement before facing forward. “Set a course to Sokovia and making it fast” Maria announced.

and with that, you were off

☼-☪-☼

Maria hacked into the Avengers coms and connected Fury’s, your’s, and her own. “Where else am i gonna get a view like this?” a woman said through your earpiece. You instantly recognize it as Nat. You missed her so much, god you couldn’t wait to talk to her again.

“Glad you like the view Romanoff. It’s about to get better” Fury spoke, folding his arms behind his back, interlocking his hands. The helicarrier started to raise above Sokovia. Holy shit this is high. As you ascended you were able to see Nat and Steve standing together. Nat cut her hair, it looks pretty.

rest of the staff began to enter the command room and set up “Nice right? Pulled her out of mothballs with a couple old friends. She’s dusty, but she’ll do” he spoke. “Fury you son of a bitch” Steve said right back. Did he just curse? That had to be Ultron.

“Woah, you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Fury said with a fake surprised tone. His comment made you chuckle a bit since he had a foul mouth. Hypocrisy am i right? “Altitude is 18,000 and climbing” Maria spoke, typing away on her keyboard like desk.

another guy spoke up from behind you “Lifeboats secure to deploy, disengage in three...two...take them out ” he clicked one final button and sat back. You felt the helicarrier rumble beneath you, which meant the lifeboats were being sent to the ground.

oh shit. You were supposed to be on one of those. “Shit!” you yell before running out the command room. You raced down the stairs and made your way to the deck. You watched as a lifeboat flew right below. This is such a bad idea. Your doing it anyway.

taking a couple steps back, you mentally prepare yourself before running as fast as you could. As you touch the edge you jump and launch yourself off the helicarrier. The lifeboat came closer to you until your shoulder collided with it. You hissed and slowly pushed yourself up “Damn- that’s gonna sting”

“Did you just jump off the helicarrier?” Fury says through the coms

“Who did?” Steve spoke

“Oh you know, backup-” Fury replies before Maria cut in “Sir we have multiple bogeys on our starboard flank” she spoke and indeed when you looked up you saw a bunch of Iron man suits flying above. Oh shit. “Show them what he got” he replied back.

you reach down and pull both guns out the holsters that were on both of your thighs “It feels good to be back” you said to yourself. You heard something fly above you that wasn’t a Bogey and saw War Machine- Rhodey blasting through a bunch of them. He’s pretty cool.

just as you were about to bask in the moment a Bogey landed on the lifeboat and came charging at you. It swung and you ducked just in time, lifting your foot to kick it in the chest. As it stumbled back you raised your gun and shot it straight in the head.

the literal lights behind its glass ‘eyes’ flickered until it shut off and it fell to the ground. “It better not be that easy to kill the actual Iron Man” you spoke. “And your not gonna find out” a voice spoke. You turn around and see Tony in his suit, with his arm raised, ready to attack you.

you raise your hands “Woah- What the hell Stark!” you shout. Oh shit- you had a mask. “I’m on your side” you add. Tony tilts his head “Really, prove it” he says. You slowly move your hand. as to not startle him and slowly pull the mas down from your face “Hey Tony”

he visibly tensed up. His mask retracting back into his face. Still has handsome as ever. He reaches up with both arms and takes off his helmet, dropping it to the side. “So is faking your death a Shield initiation thing or you just really didn’t want to go out with me?” he asked.

you cracked a smile and dropped your arms to your sides “I told you work gets in the way” you said. He went to say something when four Bogeys landed on the lifeboat. Damn you couldn’t let any on until you landed. Tony groaned dramatically and shot one in the chest, causing it to fall off the ship.

“No. See regular work doesn’t involve faking your death. I went to your funeral you know?” he says. You drop off and push off the seat and onto the Bogey, wrapping your thighs around its head. You push the barrel of the gun against the top of its head and shot “I know. I was there!” you shout.

“Oh that’s just great. You saw me all vulnerable and teary” he says with a scoff. what was happening right now. You drop to the ground and the Bogey grabs your leg, pulling you back. You shot it in the arm and it lets go “I actually didn’t know you cried. That’s kind of cute though”

you shoot the Bogey in the head and stand up on your feet. Just as you are about to take a step, a metal arm wraps around your neck, pulling you back. Oh yeah there was four. You went to reach behind as Tony shot through it’s head. The grip around your neck was released and you pushed it’s corpse off.

“Your welcome” Tony spoke, he still sounded snappy. “Your such a baby Tony. What can i do to make you stop moping?” you ask, putting one of your guns into the holster. You look behind you as the lifeboats pull up next to Sokovia “One date after all this. So i can show you what you missed of course”

you crack a smile, pulling your hood off your head. You raise your hand and hold up one finger “One date. That’s it” you say and he nods along “That works for me” he replies before picking up his helmet. He puts it on his head “But you’ll come back for more” he says as his face is covered by metal once more.

☼-☪-☼

present

you ended up did going on that date with Tony and he was right, there would be multiple date and girts until he finally asked you to be in a relationship. It was any big grand gesture that you expected from him, it was simple and sweet. It took him three years for him to propose in 2018.

but he was always one to wait.

the second battle with Thanos, but everyone seemed to be somewhat recovering, but Tony wasn’t himself anymore. You already knew he was a workaholic, but it had never been this bad. He’d stay up all night working on new tech. Security, suit adjustments, anything.

when it first started happening you chalked it up to his response to trauma. One night you suggested he’d go to therapist. Just one session and if he thought it would work then he could continue and vise versa. Tony ended up shooting down the idea with a couple harsh words.

it was strange to see him yell at you because he had never done before. It was like you were talking to an entirely different person. It scared you to be honest, but you loved him. A whole year after Thanos had gone by and he was just falling deeper and deeper into his work and less into you.

“Friday, is Tony awake?” you spoke, pouring coffee into a black mug. You place it on the silver tray and grab the light beige cardigan off the counter, slipping it over your white sports bra. “Yes Miss. Would you like me to inform him your coming down to the lab?” Friday asked.

“No that’s alright. I’d rather surprise him. Thank you Friday” you say and grab the tray off the counter, it had a mug of coffee and a plate of pancakes. You knew he wouldn’t have eaten already “Just doing my job Miss” she replies. You smile to yourself. You liked listening to her accent.

☼-☪-☼

you push open the door with the side of your hip since your hands were full “Tony!” you call out, looking around the lab one time. You stop as you see your lovers head pop up behind a machine you were unfamiliar of “Y/n? What’re you doing up? It’s late” he said, putting down a tablet.

you roll your eyes and walk over to the big table in the middle, placing the tray down “It’s nine in the morning, love” you reply. Was he starting to lose track of time now? This place needed more windows clearly. Tony put on a confused face as he scratched the back of his neck “Really?”

nodding, you lift up the mug of coffee from the tray and make your way over to Tony. You dodge a few tools laying on the ground and hand him the cup “Drink” you say. He takes it from you and brings it to his lips “Thanks” he says. While he drank you studied his face. He looked so exhausted.

it broke your heart

“You look terrible by the way” you comment, causing him to crack a small smile. “You said yes to this face, remember that” he retorts. Well he wasn’t wrong about that one. “That is true, seriously i want you out the lab today and into bed. Tomorrow is an important day”

Tony goes silent for a moment and you can tell he was trying really hard to think “Tony” you said, your voice sounding like a mom who was getting ready to lecture there child for forgetting to do homework. “I know i know- important day. Can’t wait for that...day”

you narrowed your eyes “Friday” you called out. “Yes Miss” she replies instantly. “Read me Tony’s schedule that he set for himself for the week” you ask. Tony steps forward, but you take a step back, moving away from him. “There is nothing on Mr. Stark’s schedule this week Miss”

wow

moving away from Tony, you walk over to the table “It’s our anniversary tomorrow you ass” you snap at him. Tony sighs and runs his hand over his face “I’ve been busy-” “You’ve never forgot it before” your tone was unusually calm, which through Tony off.

“Thanos is dead Tony”

“I know-”

“Then what are you doing?!” you shout, shocking yourself at the loudness of your own voice. “I’m trying to keep you safe!” he exclaims. Your fist clench. God you loved this man, but you wanted to punch him in the nose “You know i thought that you would get over this, but i can’t take much more”

your words seem to scare Tony a bit, but you continued to speak “It’s been a year Tony. You don’t sleep next to me, we barely talk unless it’s me making sure you don’t fucking starve to death, we haven’t been intimate in god knows how long. I’m tired of being neglected”

crying for a man was so pathetic, so you reached up and wiped any forming tears away with your thumb. Tony reached his arms out and wrapped them around you. You wanted to push him away, but he hasn't hugged you in so long, so you gave in.

he rubbed the back of your head as you let a few tears fall onto his shirt “I’ll stop okay- look i promise i’ll get some sleep and will have a whole day together okay?” he says. You were mad and you wanted to scream at him, but you also loved him and wanted to give him a second chance.

“Okay, but i swear Tony. You screw this up and-” you were cut off by him placing his lips on yours. Damn Stark. You smiled lightly into the kiss and pull away a couple seconds later “and you’ll throw me out on my ass i know.” he says.

you ended up making Tony go to sleep in your shared room while you cleaned up his lab and such.

☼-☪-☼

the anniversary, night

you were waiting outside a restaurant since Tony wanted to show up in his car to ‘swoon’ you wearing a black jumpsuit, it was his favorite color on you You looked at your phone and noticed he was about ten minutes late, but that didn’t worry you much since he liked to be fashionably late.

he’d come. He wouldn’t risk his last chance.

would he?

☼-☪-☼

after two hours Happy ended up picking you up and taking you back to your home. He apologized for Tony a couple times, but you said it was fine. Once you got home you kicked off your heels at the door. You were kind of running on autopilot just in shock and realization at the same time.

you knew what you had to do, but at the same time you didn’t want to, but it was over. You gave Tony a chance and he blew it. Nine years down the drain in a flash. You just couldn’t believe it. Walking down the hall, you wipe your face from the warm tears.

shutting the door to your shared bedroom, you go over to the closet “Miss you seem to be in distress is there anyway i can help?” Friday spoke. For an AI she was very self aware on feelings. “Is Tony awake Friday?” you ask, going over to your closet. “No Miss, he is asleep in the lab. May i call someone for you?”

you open the closet and pull out a suitcase you had in there and bring it over to the bed “Call Wanda” you say as you unzip the suitcase, opening it up and throw it on the bed. “Of course Miss, contacting Wanda Maximoff” she replies. After a couple seconds you hear her voice.

“Y/n? It’s late, are you alright?” she asked. You had confided in Wanda about your relationship problems with Tony since you were both in a long term relationship. You had also told her about the anniversary thing and Tony’s last chance. she said if it didn’t work out yo could stay at her place.

“Hey Wanda- uh. Yeah i know it’s late but-” you didn’t get to finish speaking when Wanda cut you off “Are you crying? Tony didn’t come did he? Know what? i’m on way. He better like a car through his window” she threatens, you could hear her moving around and the sound of keys. Well damn-

you began to grab your clothes from your dresser and stuff them in your suitcase “He’s sleeping, just pull in the front. I’ll send you the gate code okay?” you say, beginning to take off the jumpsuit you were wearing. “Fine, but no promises if i see him in the street. I’ll see you soon Y/n, goodbye”

Wanda hung up the phone “Friday-” “I sent Wanda the gate code. Before you leave would you like to leave a message for Mr. Stark?” Friday asked. You grab a dark green sweater and jeans from your dresser and throw them on quickly. You didn’t bother to pack the jumpsuit.

you wanted Tony to know why you had left so he could see the consequences of his actions and so that he wouldn’t tear the city apart thinking you were kidnapped. “I will, can you record a holographic message?” you ask. “Yes Miss, also Wanda will be arriving in 15 minutes”

“Okay”

☼-☪-☼

Tony awoke to the sound of his alarm blaring off into his ear “Shit. Friday shut that off!” he groans, lifting his head from the table “Yes Boss” she replies and the alarm shuts off. “Y/n has left a message for you to listen too. It is very important” she adds.

“Play it” he says going to lay his head back down on the table “It is a holographic message, Boss” Friday says. Tony begrudgingly lifts his head and leans it on his arm “Play it” he repeats. A second later you appeared sitting on the chair at the table with a blue hue around you.

“Hey Tony” you spoke a half smile on your face. tony would have found comfort in it if he doesn’t your puffy eyes and saddened expression. His head lifted on his arm “Remember our anniversary, you know your last chance and all that? Yeah.” you began. Tony sighed mumbling curses under his breath.

“I care about you, i have since you talked to me at the Shield dance, but i haven’t been your first priority in a while and i get it, but you promised when i left Shield that you would always make time for me. I know that Thanos shook you and you won’t admit it, but you need realize that something bad isn’t lurking around every corner”

Tony watched as you reached up and rubbed your eyes, the scene tugging on his heartstrings “We need a break from each other Tony, just for a little while. I’m going to stay with some friends. Please try to help yourself, get out the lab, clean yourself up, all of that.”

you pulled something off your ring finger and placed it on the table. Tony looked down and saw the silver ring with three aquamarine stones. He remembered proposing to you with it. You said the color reminded you of his reactor. Weirdly enough your hologram looked up at him and smiled.

“I’ll be waiting” you said and then flickered away “That’s the end of the message, Boss” Friday says. Tony slowly picked up the ring off the table. You had recorded the message in hear, talking to his sleeping body. He wished he had woken up.

☼-☪-☼

three months later

staying with Wanda was fun, but after a month or so you decided to get your own place. As much as you loved your big house you shared with Tony you bought small cabin well away from the city. It was quiet, it was outdoors and you loved it.

when you and Tony got engaged you ended up retiring from Shield so you could be more at home and help Tony with his work, but now even though you didn’t need a job you also didn’t like the idea of sitting on your ass. In that night of packing you put your old suit in there while on autopilot.

It took awhile, but you called up Fury and he was more than happy to let you back in “What does Stark have to say about all this?” he asked and you just sighed quietly “What Tony doesn’t know won’t hurt him” you replied and he didn’t ask any more questions after that.

getting back into your old life was pretty easy. All you needed was to get back into your regular exercise regiment that you had been lacking on and you felt more confident than ever. You didn’t feel neglected or forgotten, the complete opposite, you felt badass.

one day when you were walking out the store after picking up some groceries you felt eyes on you as you walked along the sidewalk. After years of being an Agent you knew when you were being followed. What was strange was that it felt like someone was watching you from above.

having a hunch at who it might be you quickly looked up and see a quick blur of red and blue swing away from your vision. Was this kid following you? but why? You duck into an alley way and walk slowly. You hear him drop behind you and follow your steps.

“Peter”

“Hi” he replies in nervous tone. You turn around, placing your free hand on your hip “Why have you been following me all week Peter?” yopu ask. You haven’t talked to Peter in months. Did he need something? Peter lifts his arm and grabs the top of his mask, pulling it off of his head.

he was lucky you were in a remote part of the city “Mr. Stark told me you weren’t together at the moment” he starts, looking at his feet. “I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright” he says and flashes a toothy grin. Aw- wait. “Did Tony ask you to check on me?”

Peter shook his head “No. He’s been busy with setting up the new senteries and therapy- i mean i don’t know. I just missed you and i can tell Mr. Stark is trying to change, but i hate to see you both so sad. I couldn’t imagine not being with Mj” he says. This kid was too adorable.

not only that he went out of his way to see how you were doing. Wait- what did he say about Tony “What senteries?” you asked, stepping closer to him. Peter started to fidget a bit “Uh- i really have to get going-” “Peter” you said in a demanding tone.

he exhaled deeply, knowing he wasn’t getting out of this “Mr. Stark has a whole line of senteries to sell to the senator so he can finally retire from being Iron Man. Not fully retire just on a long term vacation- that’s what he called it.” he spoke. Holy shit- you hoped he had done this for himself

and you as well- but mostly himself

a smile creeped onto your face. The most stubborn man you had ever met changed. “When does he plan on doing this?” you say to Peter “A dinner party this weekend. I wasn’t supposed to say anything until it was done. He was going to do some grand gesture to show you he’s changed”

you shook your head and placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder “Don’t be. For once i’m doing the grand gesture”

☼-☪-☼

saturday

after figuring out and planning on when and where you were going to show up you decided to tap into Friday’s systems and watch most of his speech then find Tony when the time was right, preferably when he was alone. Being with Tony for so long you figured out a way to enter your shared home, undetected.

once you were in the building you hid away in a spare room that was never used “Friday show me the room Tony’s in” you spoke, pulling out your phone “Yes Miss” she spoke and on your screen you saw Tony in the dining room. You lift your phone and flick it so its projected off the screen.

your eyes latched to Tony as soon as it turned on. He looked so different and healthy. It was pleasing to see that he was doing much better. You were also glad he took your advice. A warmth invaded your chest, it’s like you fell in love with him all over again.

gosh how you wanted to run into his arms that very moment.

“So Stark, why retire now?” the senator asked, taking a sip of wine from the glass he held. Tony seemed to tense up the question, but no one noticed other then you and Tony himself “If you asked me three months ago i would have told you to go to hell and that i don’t need to retire”

“and now?”

“Well back then i had my fiancee and thought i was the king of the world. Then i lost her because of my workaholic nature- also i’m not retiring Iron, Man will still be here for whoever needs him, but i think it’s time i put my future wife first if i want to keep her” he shrugs his shoulders casually.

most at the table were stunned into silence before the senator lifted his hand for tony to shake “I guess Tony Stark does have a heart” he spoke and Tony shook his hand. You felt something warm come down your face and reached to wipe the tears away.

god- what a charmer. Always knew just what to say.

“Well this was fun, but my finacee i’ve been talking about is actually here on the moment” he said. Wait what? You looked at the screen as Tony’s head turned towards the camera, sending you a wink. How the hell did he find out?! Tony grabbed a pen from his pocket and signed the paper.

“Happy will show you all out” Tony waved them off before walking out the room “If you step out the room you’ll be able to meet Mr. Stark in the hallway” Friday spoke. Oh so she snitched. Betrayal at it’s finest “Thanks Friday” you spoke before stepping out the room.

as you turned your head you come face to face with your husband to be, except he seemed nervous? “You look great- well you always look great” Tony says, making you form a smile “I’m proud of you” you say back. Tony reaches up, using this thumb to wipe away a stray tear.

“That means a lot coming from you. I can’t believe i let you slip away” his voice got darker, a frown forming. “I’m right here” you open your arms out. tony takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “But seriously Tony i will really leave you next time”

he nods “I know i know. You can have the whole house if i do” he says, making you chuckle. After a moment of staring into each other's eyes, silently making up for lost time. “Oh my god Tony Stark if you don’t kiss me right now-” you didn’t even need to finish before his lips were on yours.

the kiss was desperate and starved for a deeper feeling. Who knew one person could miss another so much? After this, you speculated you’d be stuck to his side like glue for a couple weeks before he say something stupid to piss you off.

Tony’s hands traveled lower and lower until they gripped the back of your thighs, causing a familiar feeling to bloom within you. He pulls away from your mouth and his lips attach to your neck, leaving hot open mouthed kisses. Zero to one hundred real quick.

“Tony” you breathed out. You could feel the smirk against the skin of your neck. Horny bastard “Tony seriously” you say, a laugh bubbling in your throat. He pulls away and looks at you ‘I’m trying to seduce you. Why are you interrupting?”

you shake your head and hook your arms around his neck “I love you, you idiot” you say, trying to catch your breath. A ego filling grin decorated his face as he pecked your lips “I love you too. Now let me get back to work” he says and goes back to kissing your neck and his hands worked off your belt.

yeah- you were in love

☼-☪-☼

Click here to join my Taglist! @sonbelleame @hel-viti @loudbluepancake @vmame

☼-☪-☼

Kody: Eh this kinda sucks. requests are open and my taglist. Anyways, peace

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lifebeginsbyleaving · 5 years ago

Text

Welcome To The Jungle

Stiles nearly fell out of his chair laughing. He shoved Danny's shoulder hard enough to make both of their computer chairs spin.

"It's true!"

Stiles wiped tears and replied, "Oh my god I cannot believe that!"

Danny held up a hand. "On my mother's butter mochi recipe, Coach and Greenburg walking out of the cinema hand in hand."

Stiles let out another disbelieving bark of laughter. "How the times have changed- Unless..." Stiles squinted at Danny. "You don't think they- while school- you know back then?"

Danny shook his head. "Dude, Coach is so against that. He would never. I called Jackson immediately and apparently Greenburg started one of Coach's courses he does at the college. I don't know man, love must've blossomed."

Stiles still looked bewildered. "Yeah, but Greenberg? I always though the Coach hated him."

Danny shrugged. "Maybe it was in a 'You're so hot, but you're my student so I'm going to hate you.' kind of way." He instantly wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Although, I have a hard time seeing anyone think of Greenburg as hot."

Stiles thought for a moment. "Well-"

Danny swiveled his chair. "Oh no. No! Stiles, I know we haven't always been the closest, but now I consider you a friend. If you have been so deprived of dick lately that you are thinking of Greenburg as cute, in any way, I have failed."

Stiles put his hands up. "I'm just saying th-"

"No! You stop that immediately! That's it. I'm taking you to the jungle next Thursday night. No more lame excuses or pack emergencies that Lydia says didn't actually happen. Next Thursday. Nine o'clock, don't be late. And I swear to God if you don't wear those tight black pants I will force you into an outfit of my choosing."

"Danny you know I-"

"No. Lydia tells me all about how you won't let her set you up on dates, because dating isn't your thing. Which I know is a lie. So casual sex it is. I know you like sex, good God you won't shut up about it, so stop. I can barely stand your sexual frustration anymore. We have to work on patching the bestiary mainframe for at least two more weeks, so I'm not dealing with your huffing and short fuse every five seconds for that much longer. You're so god damn snippy. We're going to the jungle unless you can detail your last sexual encounter well enough for me to believe it wasn't months ago." Danny crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

Stiles shifted in his seat. He couldn't go into great detail about his last sexual encounter to Danny, so instead he let out a sigh. "Fine, but I'm going just to appease you, and under no circumstances do I have to leave with someone."

Danny raised his hands, but he had a triumphant grin. "Hey that is entirely up to you. We'll go and see how the night takes us, or who takes us."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "There will be no taking. I'm going out to appease you. That's it."

Stiles' nerves went up seeing Danny's devilish grin. He knew that grin, that grin meant he would definitely try to set him up. It wasn't that he wasn't excited to go out, it was just Stiles hadn't been to a club since he got back to Beacon Hills after college. He'd been back for eight months and he'd rejected all attempts by the pack to set him up. If he left the jungle without someone on his arm Danny would know something was up, and it wasn't just him wanting to settle back in anymore.

Stiles was saddened when he found out no one from the pack was going to college near him. When Danny accepted Berkeley's offer he felt slightly better. Even if they weren't really close and not exactly pack it was good to have someone he knew going with him. The first year they barely talked at all. But right before the start of second year the nemeton started a shit fest and Danny needed a ride back. It was easier to go together, despite the painfully awkward first hour of the trip. Somewhere around hour three they found a groove and many things they had in common.

Stiles expected for things to go back to the way they were before once they got back, but Danny texted him with a time and the address of a club they had talked about. After that they went out to parties, studied, and were unexpected friends. Their third year they moved in together. Danny had been there through all his college relationships and hook ups, and for most of the best ones he had been the one to introduce them. Danny was good at knowing what people liked and how they would be together. He was the main reason Stiles got so many experiences, and mistakes, out of college. Stiles liked being around him. He made you feel like you were better than you actually were, that you could be more if you tried. Stiles could tell why him and Jackson had been such good friends. At first Jackson tried to insist Stiles kept his nerd cooties away from his best friend, but they could tell he was glad two of his pack members were taking care of each other.

At one point Stiles even confessed his high school crush to Danny. The asshole just said he knew and that every questioning boy had a crush on him. When Stiles asked him if he thought they would be good together Danny just shook his head. He told him he would date him, but he knew Stiles was the type you marry and he wasn't ready for that. Stiles had been awed and flattered by that and as soon as he asked, he knew they wouldn't ever go there. They were just friends. Some how that didn't bother him, it made him feel settled in the relationship they already had. Because it was good enough.

Stiles snapped back to attention looking at a talking Danny with a fond smile. "What?"

"You did that freaky zone out thing, didn't you? I swear one of these days you're going to walk in front of a bus. I said look hot and wear the cologne too."

Stiles gave a lazy salute and started to pack up. "Alright, I should head home soon. Dad will order pizza if I don't get there in time, and I don't want to have to wrestle a meat lovers out of his hands again. It was messy."

Danny nodded with a smile. "I'm busy tomorrow, but I'll see you Wednesday, and then Thursday."

"You got it."

---

"Dad I'm home." He rounded the corner to see his dad frozen with the phone in his hand.

"God damn it, I almost got it ordered in time. Tell Danny he needs to work you harder." He set the phone back down with a harsh look.

Stiles rolled his eyes as he set down his things. "We're just patching the bestiary, I don't actually work for him. I do have an actual job you know."

"So you're paying him for his help?"

Stiles shook his head. "He's helping out the pack. He said he would do it on his free time." He walked to the kitchen to start supper.

His dad leaned against the counter. "So is he in the pack? I thought you said he wasn't."

Stiles turned to look at his father after grabbing the chicken and veggies from the fridge. "Yes and no. Most of us consider him pack because he is to Jackson, but Danny hasn't accepted yet. He says he doesn't want the responsibility of it. He always shows up and helps when we need though." Stiles set up his knife and cutting board in silence.

"And what do you think?" The rhythmic sound of a sharp knife hitting a cutting board filled the kitchen until he was finished speaking.

Stiles looked down and started to move the board around. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you said, 'He says,' instead of saying something like he doesn't because of whatever. You think he says something, but what do you think he means? And why won't you look at me when you talk about it? Son, did something happen between you and Danny?" His dad had been really nosey and pushy lately. He supposed it was because he could tell Stiles was hiding something, but it was still annoying.

Stiles popped a slice of green pepper in his mouth and turned to his father with a contemplative look. He looked in his father's eyes for a moment.

He sighed after making up his mind. "Nothing happened between us. Danny doesn't join the pack because it's a commitment. It's basically a family. He doesn't want the weight of that. He also thinks the only ones that want him there are Jackson and I, which isn't true. He just gets freaked out by people being there all the time, always knowing everything about him. He feels like he might lose them at anytime. The more you love something the more it hurts once it's gone, you know?"

His father looked at him with sad eyes. "I know."

Stiles nodded. He bit his lip to hold in the question begging to slip out.

"Why wouldn't you look at me before? I know it wasn't just because of something with Danny. There's something going on with you lately."

Stiles couldn't hold it in any longer. "Do you ever regret loving mom?"

"Never." It was immediate and without hesitation.

Stiles fidgeted. "Yeah, but what if you knew you would find another wife and son you would love just as much as you love us. Would you want to save yourself the heartbreak of loving someone you lost?"

His father's eyes were glistening as he walked up to Stiles and pulled him into a hug. "I wouldn't trade you both for anything. That I promise you kid. Never." He kissed the top of Stiles' head. "Never, ever. You're my boy, and she was the love of my life."

Stiles nodded into his chest and gripped his shirt.

His father pulled back and looked at him assessing his face. "Why do you think you're loving someone you're going to lose Stiles?"

Stiles closed his eyes, but his tears fell anyway. "There's something I haven't told the pack, and I can't tell you yet either. And I need you to be okay with that. I shouldn't have even started to talk about it. You can't push okay?" He opened his eyes to look at his father pleadingly.

His father gripped his shoulders and looked at him sternly. "This is serious Stiles. The last time you didn't tell the pack or me about something, you had been assaulted on campus. You have to be straight with me here, no lying. Is this like that? Should we know?"

Stiles once again felt the guilt of keeping him getting beat up on campus from his family, but he knew they would've gone ballistic. Besides, he could and did handle a cocky omega. The only reason they knew now was because Danny let it slip to Jackson on break and Jackson came to him spitting mad in front of everyone. Jackson got in touch with some of his families friends within two hours. It was dealt with soon enough, but they still were angry at him for keeping it from them. Scott and Lydia felt betrayed and the rest of them seemed hurt, but Derek just stood there with his arms crossed looking like he was ready to murder Stiles.

But this wasn't like that. This wasn't him keeping something from them, this was him waiting to tell them. "I do plan on telling them, I just have to see how somethings work out first."

"Do you think they could work out in a way that hurts you?"

Stiles hesitated. "Yes. But if they do it would be better for everyone if they didn't know." He saw his father's confused face. "It would be easier for me to heal without them poking."

His dad sighed. "Kiddo I hope you know what you're getting into. Hell, I hope I'm doing the right thing by listening to you."

"It's always the right idea to listen to me pops." Stiles smiled and winked.

"I take it all back. Tell Scott right now. God, what was I thinking."

"Har har. And to think I was going to let you have full fat cheese with your rice tonight."

---

Stiles tried to stuff his hands into his jeans, but they were so tight his fingers barely went down. He pulled them out and stuck his arms out before letting them slap against his legs. He huffed and checked the door for him again. Danny was always either way early or a half hour late. Stiles decided to get a booth to wait out the next twenty minutes.

Stiles was sipping his half empty drink when someone slid into his booth and stole his attention. "Um sorry, this booth is taken."

The unfamiliar man gave him a charming smile. "Right, okay. I'll only be a minute." The man ducked his head and Stiles looked behind their booth to see who he was hiding from.

There was a loud redhead at the bar that immediately stuck out. She had a small gathering of laughing men around her.

Stiles turned back and the man was staring and smiling at him in a way he supposed was to be disarming. "So, did you run into an ex?"

The man scoffed. "Not on your life. It was that woman." He laughed and made a face like Stiles should immediately understand.

Stiles narrowed his eyes. "Was she rude?"

The man looked flabbergasted. "She's a woman, hitting on men." Stiles raised an eyebrow. "In here! In a gay bar! I went up to her to give her a piece of my mind, but those jerks stood up for the bitch."

Stiles got the full picture now and started to get angry, but kept his cool. "She could be bi. Also you know friends can come here too right? Like sometimes people just come here to have a good time."

He looked at Stiles like he was the one not understanding yet. "Yes, but she was flirting. With a guy."

Stiles took a breath in. "The guy could also be bi. Or it could've been her boyfriend. Or he is gay and as long as she backed off, big whoop."

The man scoffed. "If they are straight they shouldn't be here. And if they're bi, I don't see why they would be here looking for a hetero relationship. They can find that anywhere. I mean, you come to a gay bar for one thing."

Stiles couldn't take it any more. "Yeah. Acceptance. So if you're going to be an exclusionist asshole or a biphobe troll I think it's you who should leave. Anyone that respects other people has a right to be here without fear of rejection or judgement. Maybe they're bi, maybe they're straight, maybe one of them is trans or non-binary, maybe one of them is asexual. Maybe that or a ton of other things, but one thing they sure as hell are is none of your damn business! This is a safe place, and you can fuck right off if you're going to threaten that!"

The man got up, but still tried one final attempt. "Look, I just mean if there's so many of them invading our space, soon enough there won't be enough room for us." He spoke with stress on certain words.

Stiles gave him a sweet smile with murderous eyes. "There's always room for love. This isn't the Titanic jackass. And if you're referring to me in that, 'our' I'll have you know- I like tits too. And I'm too proud of it to allow a self centered prick like you to bully me into feeling bad about it. Have a nice day up on that high horse trampling all over the people that helped build this safe space you think is just yours. Yee-haw, ride your intersectional bigot ass right out of here!" Stiles was two seconds away from throwing his drink, but he thought that might be a bit much. He thought he got his point across well enough.

The man opened his mouth.

Stiles rolled his eyes. It appeared not.

Stiles tossed his drink right in his face as Danny came into view.

The man instantly began making a commotion.

Danny looked shocked. "Dude what the hell? Who is he?"

Stiles saw a bouncer looking inquisitively at them as he drew closer. The jungle had a strict no drink throwing and no bitch slapping policy. It upset the vibe and sales. Stiles apologized as loudly as he could, so he was heard by many people over the music. "Sorry. Biphobe. Thems the breaks. Sometimes you gotta toss a drink in an asshole's face for saying you don't belong here." The people around them instantly gave the soaked man dirty looks.

The tall bulky black man gripped the asshole's arm and started to pull him towards the door. He had an intimidating aura, but Stiles could tell there was kindness and understanding behind those completely unnecessary glasses for the dark club.

Stiles noticed a magenta, blue, and purple pin on the bouncers jacket. He gave a thumbs up. "I like your pin."

The bouncer just gave him a private smile. "I like your eyes."

Stiles gaped and looked to Danny. When he looked back the bouncer was gone as was the man.

Danny looked at him shocked. "Dude, Bubbles from Lilo and Stitch just flirted with you! No fair!"

Stiles calmed and fell into the conversation. "What do you mean no fair?"

Danny scoffed. "I do not, and do not picture myself having a daddy kink, but if I did it would be for one man, and Bubbles from Lilo and Stitch only."

Stiles tilted his head back and forth in tentative agreement. "I guess he does exude a vibe of protection."

---

They were enough drinks in that he was still in control, but his vigorous nodding made the room shift slightly. "His hands! You're absolutely right! I've been a fool!"

Danny laughed and pushed away his face. "You're loud."

Stiles stuck out his tongue.

Danny pushed his empty drink to the edge of the table. "Why aren't you trying to find someone to hook up with?"

Stiles was taken off guard more that he would've been sober. "What? What do you mean, I'm enjoying a night out with my boy."

Danny looked sympathetic. "Did ending that thing with Jason when we left college hurt you more than you thought it would?"

Stiles had to wrack his brain for a moment to think of who Jason was. "What? No. He was just a booty call. No feelings there."

Danny looked puzzled. "Then why?"

"Maybe I've had enough dating in college."

Danny scoffed and shook his head. "I introduced you to my friend Marcus who loves comics and puppies and is so your type. I pointed out a great fuck that you turned down, and we both know from college we don't mind sharing. I told you about a guy I've seen around a few nights that only talks to guys that look like you. You've shot them all down. You, Stiles Stilinski, who loves to date, to have sex, and just generally get to know new people. I've been keeping Lydia off your back, but now I want to know. What happened?"

Stiles started to sweat and he tried to come up with a lie that normally would already be off his lips. He tried to think of a way out, but couldn't find one.

The song switched right as he opened his mouth and Stiles thanked the gods. "This is our song! We haven't danced all night!"

Danny looked firm, but he cast a glance to the moving bodies. "Explanation after?" Danny was terrible at interrogation, he usually didn't care unless someone wanted to tell him.

Stiles nodded knowing full well Danny wouldn't leave the dance floor, without finding someone to leave with. "Let's dance."

In college Stiles had managed to figure out that songs had rhythms and had become quite the dancer. His hips moved sinfully and he knew where to put his hands now, but every once and awhile he would throw in a move that reminded Danny of just how far he had come.

They had separated several songs ago and found new partners. Stiles had danced with a lot of people, but never the same person twice and if they got too handsy he moved on. He was just there with his friend to have a good time. He was actually starting to have fun and enjoy the night without worrying.

He had pushed away some rather insistent wandering hands when Danny came up behind him to whisper into his ear, "There's this really creepy guy watching you."

"What?" Stiles' mind instantly raced. Was it a werewolf from a rival pack? Kanima? Witch? He pissed of an incubus one time. Scratch that, he's pissed of pretty much every supernatural being he's ever met at one point or another. He couldn't see through the moving crowd enough to catch any faces.

Danny leaned in and grabbed Stiles' hip so they didn't get separated on the dance floor. He repeated a little louder, but if he wasn't so close it would be lost to the loud music, "There's a creepy guy watching you. I think he'll go away if he thinks we're together."

Stiles heart had picked up and he leaned back into Danny's comforting embrace. "Okay." Stiles wondered if he should call someone, just in case it was a supernatural issue.

Danny turned him around, but kept glancing over Stiles' shoulder out of the crowd to look for the creep. "He's still staring. Grind on me."

They had done this so much in college to lure cute boys Stiles didn't even think twice. He tried to seem like Danny and him were together. They danced for a few verses.

Danny shook his head with worry. "Okay, he's clenching his fists now. I don't think it's working Stiles. I'm going to kiss you."

Stiles' eyes went wide. "Wait Danny I have a-"

Danny kissed him.

It was chaste, but still made his stomach roll. "Well, did it work?"

Danny was squinting his eyes, but they went wide with shock and something like fear. "Shit, no. He looks like he's going to murder me! Fuck, he just slammed his drink and is coming over here."

"What! Oh my God we have to call someone!" Stiles' voice was panicked. He could fight, but he was slightly tipsy and if Danny was worried, Stiles was. Besides, if he was supernatural Stiles didn't have a chance without something to defend himself with.

"Take my hand. We have to go closer to the bar." Danny laced their fingers together.

Stiles had just hit dial as a firm hand grabbed his arm not currently being dragged by Danny. Stiles let out a shriek. Before he could turn around to face the attacker he was pulled out of his grip by Danny and was now behind him.

"Leave him alone asshole!"

A phone started ringing.

The guy looked absolutely murderous. "I want to talk to Stiles."

"How do you know his name creep?!" Danny spat at him.

Stiles peered around Danny, "Wait... Derek?"

"Stiles do you know him?" Danny asked unsure, he looked at the semi familiar man and tried to place him.

"Yes he does." The man stated gruffly.

Stiles flushed with embarrassment. "He's my boyfriend."

Danny's face lit with recognition, then confusion again. "Cousin Miguel?"

"Derek." He spoke with that same cold, flat tone. Derek still looked terrifying as he reached into his pocket and answered his phone staring at Stiles.

Stiles lifted his own phone and spoke, "Um, hello?"

"You better have a really good explanation that takes less than five minutes, or I'm dumping you."

Danny looked at him with a shocked look. "I didn't buy that Miguel story for a second, but you're dating him? Wait Derek as in, alpha hottie Hale, Derek? You're dating the pack alpha?! Does the pack know? Well, that explains why Lydia couldn't set you up. Huh, I guess Issac wins the pot. He was the only one who thought you had someone else. Wait till Jackson hears he was wrong about you getting a girl pregnant."

Stiles' eyes went wide. "You can't tell them!"

Derek interjected with a blank face. "Yeah, especially since in about four and a half minutes he won't actually be dating me anymore."

Stiles turned to him frazzled. "Can you just stop for a moment!"

Danny had his phone out and went to unlock it, but Stiles batted his hands down.

Stiles huffed. "Look, everyone stop! I need to explain to both of you." He turned to Derek with a pleading look. "I have to talk to Danny real quick, but I promise you." Stiles' voice was filled with emotion and dripped with sincerity, "I promise you, nothing is going on with me and Danny and I can explain everything, but if I don't talk to him first, he will text Lydia while we're talking and you and I agreed we don't want that. He has had too much liquor to not know it is a bad idea, and not enough to be incoherent enough for Lydia to not believe him."

Derek looked deeply into his eyes and sighed. "You're lucky I know when you're lying."

Stiles let out a relieved breath and rested their foreheads together. "Thank God for heartbeats."

In the next second he was snatching Danny's phone and dragging him off to another side of the club.

Derek uselessly whispered after him, "I don't need your heartbeat to know."

Stiles pulled Danny to a quiet and private enough corner.

Stiles was breathless and spoke in a rush, "Look, you can't tell the pack. Now before you get snippy about them needing to know, just listen. Derek and I started to text a lot our second to last year. We got close, but decided not to date until I was done with college. We both didn't wait for each other, but we never got into something too serious. We've been taking it slow ever since I got back. And we don't want the pack to know yet."

Danny gave him a speculative look. "How slow?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "We've had sex. Lots. The whole me being frustrated thing? Different type of frustration. Definitely not from lack of sex."

Danny put his hands up with an easy grin. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't squandering all of that. Like hot damn Stilinski. You got a good one."

Stiles' face went soft. "Yeah I do."

"Then why don't you want the pack to know?"

Stiles looked over to where Derek was standing. He was far enough back to not be able to hear them, but close enough for Stiles to be able to signal if he needed help. He had a beer and one of Stiles' favorite drinks in the table beside him. He had found Stiles' hoodie and draped it over the chair so they wouldn't forget it. He knew Stiles always forgot his coat when he was drunk. Stiles smiled at him, even though he wasn't looking before turning back to Danny. "Because he's the type you marry."

Stiles scratched the back of his head and continued, "And I don't want to mess that up, but if I do, the pack knowing would make it a thousand times worse. They would be all sad and comforting and they would look at us if we're ever in a room together. And I don't want that. Even if things go wrong, I don't want us to feel weird. We're pack. And if we did split I don't want everyone thinking they had to pick sides or that we can't be friends anymore. I guess that's what I've been worrying about so much lately, if we are right for each other. I just want to know that this is right, that we are sure before we involve the pack or my dad. I just, I've been worried about losing him and how much it would hurt. God I've always worried about losing people since my mom, but I don't think I could lose him. Especially not if we tell everyone. If we tell them it makes it real, it means it will hurt more if we don't work out or if something happens. The pack means everything to us and if they know it means it has to work." Stiles looked down.

Danny nodded. "I get that, but when are you going to tell them? When will you know? Because it sounds like you already know Derek is the type you marry. Stiles, you don't actually have to marry him to be sure. You just have to see it. When you think of your future, is he in it? You talk like you're sure, just scared."

Stiles instantly pictured a big restored house and family enjoying themselves in the yard. He looked over and Derek was smiling at him with the smile he had only seen when they weren't with other people. He reached out to Stiles with a hand that had a silver band.

Stiles looked up to meet Danny's eyes and then he found Derek's across the room. Despite the weird circumstances Derek still smiled at him. Not like he was doing it as a courtesy. Like he loved him so much and he couldn't help it. "He isn't in it. He is it." Stiles turned back with a wide smile and tears in his eyes. "He's my future Danny."

Danny smiled back. "I won't tell the pack, but I think you should."

Stiles nodded as a giggle bubbled out of his throat. He started to back away as he spoke, "Do you need a ride?"

Danny smirked. "I think I might go home with tall, dark, and into me, but if not I'll use my app to call a ride. Go get your boy."

Stiles nodded and turned with a grin.

He found him where he knew he would be. Derek was a pensive drinker so his beer was almost gone. When he got to the table Stiles chugged his drink and Derek raised an eyebrow. "I have to tell you something, so I need the liquid courage."

Derek set his jaw. "I don't want to do this here. It's too loud. Let's go to my car."

Stiles was practically bursting with nerves by the time they got in the car.

They sat in silence for a few moments while Derek brooded and Stiles chewed his lip. When Derek reached to turn on the car Stiles stopped him and grabbed his hand. He smiled at it before pulling it close enough to push his lips softly against his knuckles.

Derek looked pained. "Stiles-"

"I love your hands." He snorted. "Even more than Bubble's"

Derek looked at him with raised eyebrows. "How much have you had?"

"Too much so I want to be as close to you for as long as I can, but sadly not enough to not know I can't cuddle you every second of every day."

Derek considered it for a moment. Fuck it, if this was going to be the last time he was close, he was going to be so close it hurt. Derek reached between his legs to the lever and slid back his seat. He tilted it to the perfect angle they had found and Stiles brightened. He climbed over the console and straddled his lap. Stiles settled in on top of him and tucked his head into his neck. Derek tried to not lose it as he felt the emotions welling up. He held onto Stiles' legs to ground himself.

Stiles kissed his neck softly. "I kissed Danny because he said some creep was staring at me." Derek could feel his smile pressed to his neck, then Stiles poked his side. "That's you. He thought you would go away if I was spoken for."

Derek gripped his legs harder.

"But if I would've known it was you, I could've told him that wouldn't work at all. Because, you see, I am spoken for. By you. Only by you. I only belong with you Derek."

Derek's grip relaxed, but he still asked, "Why were you there with him? I went out to pick up food and when I saw your Jeep here I was so confused."

Stiles didn't know where to start with that one. "Because he told me I'm the type you marry. And be-"

Derek grabbed him by the shoulders enough to pull him back. Derek looked positively sick to his stomach. "He wants to marry you?!"

Stiles tried to figure out where the conversation had been and where he meant it to be, all the while trying to figure out how the hell it got were it was. "What?"

"What did you say?"

"Nothing! He doesn't want to marry me, that's why he said he wouldn't date me!"

Derek looked no less hurt or shocked, but somehow more confused. "You asked him to date you?!"

"What? No! In college I asked him why he wouldn't date me. That was his answer, because I'm the type you marry."

Derek took a deep breath. "You're so confusing when you're drunk." Derek laughed lightly. "You're so confusing when you're sober."

Stiles looked petulant. "Can't you focus please?"

"Can't you make a point please?" Derek snarked.

"I'm the type you marry, and you're also the type you marry. Well not you, me."

Derek's eyebrows furrowed. "Stiles if you're suggesting we get drunk married in Vegas, you do realize I have to be drunk too? So that way I can't be the voice of reason."

Stiles sighed. "Ughhh you're not listening!" Stiles put both hands on each side of Derek's face with a bit too much force. "Danny tried to take me out to set me up, but he just made me realize something. I want to marry you. Not yet, but I do. Sometime. I don't want to be engaged yet either, but I wouldn't be opposed to that happening. Then we could get married. Maybe in the fall. Not the next next fall, that's too soon. Maybe summer though, because the next next next fall is too far away. I want to be married to you." Stiles looked into his eyes with tears brimming. "I want to love you every day of my life."

Derek just sat there with an open mouth and raised eyebrows. "I don't even know what to say to that."

Stiles smiled, but fidgeted. "Do you want that too?"

Derek spoke immediately, slightly breathlessly, "Yes."

"Then I think you could say, I love you too Stiles."

Derek pulled him by his neck down to kiss him. He leaned back and looked into Stiles' eyes with shining ones. "I love you too, Stiles. I want to love you for the rest of our lives."

Stiles smiled and kissed him again before leaning his forehead against Derek's.

"God I hope you're not too drunk to remember this. Or regret it in the morning."

Stiles smiled at him. "Take me home and fall asleep with me. Let's find out in the morning, lover."

Derek hugged Stiles to his chest with a crushing grip. "I will kill you if you forget this."

Stiles nodded into his neck. "Noted." He pulled back and climbed back to his seat.

"Please tell me Danny doesn't need a ride."

"He's fine. I checked before I left. He's more sober than me, and hard pressed I could probably fool my father in all except the breathalyzer."

"I don't think you'd pass any test. You got drunk enough to say you'd marry me."

Stiles looked over to him and shook his head. "I didn't get drunk enough to say it, stupid. I got drunk enough to finally realize it."

Derek pulled out of the parking lot and Stiles jolted. "Oh and I think we should tell the pack now!"

Derek smiled. "Yeah? Because of the proposal?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "I did not propose. I just said that I would eventually be open to asking or saying yes."

Derek reached over and placed his hand on Stiles' thigh and swept his thumb in soothing motions. "I think we should too, darling."

Stiles laced their fingers together and smiled at the road ahead of them.

---

Stiles had a wide grin as he looked at the green lawn around him and the pack that filled it. It was a perfect summer day for the party. There was a game of frisbee and gossip circles his dad was even milling about close to the congrats cake hand in hand with Melissa.

Stiles looked down to the cool metal he was still getting used to. He smiled at it resting against the picnic table. The day had been filled with many congratulations and more than enough tears. Most from his father. Who joked he'd never thought he'd met someone stupid enough to propose to Stiles, but when he met Derek he knew. They both had been offended by that, but quickly forgave him when he said he had to give his two boys grief. Scotty had just beamed at Stiles and said he was happy he found his Allison. Jackson even showed up with his husband and smiled at them.

He was brought out of his thoughts by Danny sitting down on the side opposite of him.

After Derek knew he wasn't trying to steal his man, and was the reason they finally pulled their heads out of their asses about telling the pack, he took a liking to him. Stiles was awed by how well he fit in with everyone and some how he hadn't been there before. Eventually the pack wore him down enough that he joined. Erica was a menace and the best recruitment agent.

"So I guess no matter how awesome I was in college, I didn't get this one right. Some matchmaker I am."

"Actually..." Stiles smiled and went to his pocket for the piece of paper he had brought for this moment. It was crinkled from when he crumpled it to throw away, but saved last minute to show Scott.

He slid the smoothed out post-it note over to Danny and he read it out loud, "Stiles, marry 'cousin Miguel' He's hot and so not your cousin."

Danny let out a bark of laughter. "I forgot I wrote this."

Stiles shrugged. "So you were right."

He looked up when he heard someone clear their throat. Derek held out a hand and Stiles' eyes were drawn to that silver band. "I think it's time for cake, before your dad eats it all with his eyes. Come along beloved."

Stiles rolled his eyes, but took his hand as he got up. "You can't call me that if you don't call me that when we're all old and wrinkled."

Derek used their entwined hands to yank him closer to his chest. "If I don't call you pet names when we are old and wrinkled, it is because I have forgotten every word that compares to how much I love you."

"Sap."

Derek grinned. "You love it."

Stiles rolled his eyes and looked into Derek's. "I love you."

Derek beamed and held up his hand proudly. "Yeah you do! You're gonna be stuck with me."

Stiles replied with adoration in his eyes, "I already am."

"Guuuys! Cake."

Their eyes didn't move from each other as they spoke in unison.

"Shut up Cora."

"Cora fuck off."

Stiles dropped his voice lower, "I think we should stay here and make them wait. Or we could excuse ourselves for a moment and have sex upstairs."

"You're terrible. Utterly deviant. That's such a good idea." Derek rested their noses together.

"I know."

Derek smiled. "But cake. You love cake."

Stiles grinned lecherously. "I also love other things I can put in my mouth."

"Dude, gross!"

"Eavesdrop on the newly engaged couple and you deserve what you hear Scott!" Stiles shouted.

Derek was beaming and Stiles looked at him confused. "You hate when I embarrass you. Wha-"

"You're engaged to me. I'm engaged to you. We're engaged. It sounds so..."

Stiles finished for him, "Weird. But good."

Derek had a momentary flash of doubt. "You feel like this is right too, right?"

Stiles nodded. "The kind of right that makes you sure nothing but this was ever supposed to happen. I'm meant to marry you Derek Hale, and you're meant to marry me. Come witches, werewolves, Jackson being a lovable asshole, or fighting over what colors to paint the house I'm going to be with you through it all. Our lives were meant to be given to each other. Why else do you think I keep saving your sourwolf ass?" Stiles' emotional face faded to a smirk.

Derek looked contemplative for a second before he looked certain. "Were you exaggerating when you said you didn't want to plan a wedding and have a big fancy party?"

Stiles looked suspicious. "I don't need any of that. What are you talking about Derek?"

Derek looked excited. "Look me in the eyes and tell me everything you need for your future isn't in this yard. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't want to start that life."

Stiles still looked confused.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't want it today. Just say it and I'll wait. I'll wait for you to decide which flowers you like best. I'll wait to think over who's side Erica is on. I'll wait to let you pick out a tux. I'll wait for you to go back and forth on a venue until you realize that under the tree right next to our house is perfect. I'll wait for the day saying things like our house doesn't make me feel impatient. I'll wait for that God awfully long walk down the aisle. Tell me right now and I swear to God Stiles I'll wait for it all. But if you want it today as bad as I do, I'll carry you to the courthouse."

Stiles grinned at him. "I'm the type you marry, Derek Hale. So what are you waiting for?"

They met in the middle and there was so much love in that kiss it almost ached.

Erica smirked and shouted as everyone handed her and Melissa dollar bills. "Everyone get your ass in a vehicle. It doesn't matter which one. We have a wedding to attend."

Derek and his father both signed the papers with shaky hands and teared eyes.

When they were declared the Stilinski-Hales Stiles let out a punched breath. He looked over at Derek through the tears left over from their vows and he smiled.

Derek beamed wide and bright as Stiles thought to himself. This, this is what my future looks like.

This is for @sterek-bingo

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romanoffswifey · 4 years ago

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Stupid Sexy Romanoff

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Tony takes the avengers on a snowy retreat, where he finds out about your crush on Natasha. He and Clint convince you to do something a little bit stupid and it does not go according to plan. At least you get Natasha’s attention.

Contents/Warnings: Fluffy fluff, some dumbass energy from many people

Words: 1,539

AN - Yes, this was absolutely originally inspired by that one Simpsons scene and it would not let me rest until I had written it. Stupid sexy Flanders.

“Woah, Y/N, I didn’t know you could shred like that,” Tony says as you come skidding to a stop next to him and Clint on the alpine snow.

The billionaire had decided to take you all on a trip to a Swiss ski resort, in the name of relaxation and team bonding.

“There’s a dry ski slope about an hour away from the town I grew in, I haven’t been in a long while but I guess snowboarding is like riding a bike,” you offer. Plopping yourself down near Clint, who was currently sitting on Steve’s shield after he’d been using it as a sledge.

“Maybe now you’re here you can convince Stark to actually go down the mountain, instead of just standing here like a baby,” the archer points to the man’s skis, “you know they have instructors here to teach you how to use those things.”

Tony scoffs. “I don’t need any instructing, Barton. It can’t be that hard surely, I mean children can do it.”

“You could always ask our friendly god of hammers for some pointers,” you say, gesturing behind you as Thor shoots past, screaming with joy. The asgardian had turned out to be surprisingly good at the winter sport and was currently having the time of his life.

When the men next to you descend into bickering, you zone out. Letting your gaze wander until it lands on Natasha, who’s stood chatting with Steve further down the slope.

You’d had a crush on the redhead ever since you’d met her during the whole thing with Loki, but hadn’t said anything to her in fear of ending up looking like an idiot.

Clint was the only one who knew and he’d been pretty useless at helping. Simply teasing you about it, as he’d decided to be an adult, for once, and respect Natasha��s privacy on the matter.

You sigh softly as you look at her now. She was beautiful, and kind of cute, with her little bobble hat and her googles on top of her head. The tips of her nose and ears slightly pink from the cold, and her flawless tresses only highlighted by the white around her.

As you follow the fall of her hair down to her outfit, you inhale sharply, coughing as the icy air hits the back of your throat.

The assassin was clad in a black and red ski suit, with a close enough fit that you could see the lines of her muscles. Along with a great view of her assets. It was safe to say that it left nothing to the imagination, and your imagination was certainly running wild right now.

Your little coughing fit had gained the attention of Tony and Clint. Making them pause their argument and follow your line of slight.

“Well, Romanoff certainly isn’t bothered by the cold. You’d think she’d want to wear something more comfortable since we’re out of the office,” says the billionaire.

“Actually it is comfy, and warm, and incredibly aerodynamic. She got it for this one mission where she had to go undercover as a prospect for the winter olympics,” Clint explains, “I tried it on once. It felt like I was wearing nothing at all.”

That comment did absolutely nothing to help your thoughts, in fact it only made them less PG then they already were. You’re pretty sure the heat coming from your face could turn the slope below you into a waterfall if you put your head close enough.

Unfortunately for you, your flustered state draws Tony’s questioning gaze from the archer to yourself.

“Erm, Y/N are you okay? You look kind of...wait a minute,” his eyes light up as he interrupts himself, “Oh. My. God. You totally have the hots for Romanoff don’t you?”

“Finally, someone noticed,” Clint happily exposes you.

“Barton, you little shit!” you exclaim in shock, repeatedly trying to jab him in the ribs.

“Oh this is great,” Tony laughs before starting to sing, “Y/N and Natasha sitting in a tre-”

“Shut it, Stark,” you hiss. Taking one of his ski poles and smacking him around the back of the legs, causing him to fall on his back in front of the pair of you with a small ‘oof’.

“Rude. But since you’re like the little sister I never had, I’ll elect to ignore it in favour of being the annoying brother right now. Does she know about the little heart eyes routine you got going on over here?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

You roll your eyes. “Does it look like she’s even remotely interested in me?”

“I don’t know, have you tried asking her?”

“This is Natasha Romanoff we’re talking about here, you think I want to risk making a fool out of myself and ruining our friendship?” you sigh dejectedly and put your chin on top of your knees. “And don’t bother asking Clint about it, I already tried,” you add when you see Tony turn toward the man, who was suddenly very quiet.

The billionaire huffs when he notices his glare isn’t doing anything to crack the archer’s resolve. But when his eyes land on the ramps that sat on one half of the snowy incline, the gears in his head start to turn.

His smirk widens when Clint throws him an encouraging look, clearly thinking along the same lines.

“Hey Y/N, why don’t you do a cool trick or something?” Tony asks while nodding toward the ramps.

“What?” you ask in reply, “What makes you think I can even do a trick?”

“Well, it can’t be that hard. I’ve seen you do loads of complicated acrobatics in training, and what about that time you flipped your motorbike over that bridge?”

“I’m sure Nat would be impressed if you did it,” Clint murmurs, trying to be subtle while eating some snow.

You cut your eyes at them both, wondering what they were up to.

“Fine,” you say. Pulling yourself up and setting off down the hill after thinking about it, it would be pretty cool if you did manage to pull it off.

Once you hit one of the bigger ramps, you lock eyes with Natasha, and your whole mind goes blank. You can’t stop staring and you’re quickly reminded of all those thoughts you’d just had. Which was not ideal, considering you had just launched yourself about 20 feet in the air.

Shit.

Instead of doing some epic flip in the air, you just sail through it and start plummeting to the earth. But lucky for you, you’re an avenger. You’re also heading for a nice pile of snow.

Snow is surprisingly hard, and you groan as you lay buried there, regretting many of your life choices. Not only had you eaten complete shit, you had done it in front of your long time crush. This was the worst trip you had ever been on.

“Leave me to my shame,” you whine as you feel someone undoing your boots from your snowboard before pulling you out by your leg.

Your embarrassment only grows as you look up into green eyes that are filled with worry.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Natasha asks. Checking you over for any sign of blood or broken bones.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, not quite meeting her eyes.

“You gonna explain what that was about then?” she asks with a hint of amusement as she helps you up.

You smile sheepishly and admit, “I was trying to show off.”

“Why?”

Being this close to her now, with her hands still lightly clasping yours and an adorable little frown on her face, you can’t find it in you to lie.

“I was trying to impress you. I really like you Natasha,” you confess quietly.

Her face slackens at your words, and you can feel your stomach sink. You gentle pull your hands from hers, letting out a long breath as you look down. Waiting for whatever her reaction might be.

To your surprise, a gloved hand comes up and cups your jaw. Tilting your head back up before a pair of soft lips land on your own.

You relax into the kiss as she holds you there. Blinking slowly when she pulls back with a sigh.

“I like you too, Y/N,” she says shyly. A smile tugging at her mouth and her face just a bit redder than it was before.

“How come you never said anything?” you ask, still not quite believing this was actually happening.

“I’m not really the best when it come to this whole feelings thing, so I wanted to makes sure that you might have felt the same about me before I did anything,” she trails off.

“Oh.”

The redhead hums. “And for the record you don’t have to impress me. I’ve seen what you can do, it’s pretty badass,” she says with a wink, before holding out her hand. “Now come on, I’ll get you a hot chocolate. Think of it as our first date.”

You can’t help the grin that breaks out onto your face as you take Natasha’s hand and let her drag you back up the mountain.

Maybe this trip wasn’t so bad after all.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #natasha romanoff fanfic #avengers x reader #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #marvel

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trippled-the-trouble · 3 years ago

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Promo

Warning for mentions of gore, slightly unsettling imagery, murder, obsession (mostly from Xenophanes), possible suggestive themes (idk), vulgar language, torture, gaslighting, manipulation, and character death.

GF blinks, shaking her head as she looks around. Back in the green hill zone? Wasn't she just in the woods with that…. that imposter version of sonic? The area seemed brighter in color- compared to the old green hill zone that was stained horribly. A soft sob snaps the brunette out her thoughts, turning to look at the noise. A hedgehog was curled up, crying to himself. Mumbling how he should have been faster. Wasn't that- "Sonic?" The hedgehog snaps his head up, eyes widening.

"H-Holy shit- didn't- didn't he get you too?" Gf shrugs, moving closer to hug the smaller being. Sonic shakily hugs back, muttering apologies to the demoness.

"Hey hey. It's ok. You aren't at fault for anything… how old even are you?" He blinks, large tears still in their eyes. "F- fifteen" 15????

"Wh-you're a kid! You shouldn't have to go through this! You aren't to blame…. Hey let's… try to figure this, ok?" He nods slowly, still clinging to her. GF sighs softly, picking him up.

"It's ok. Take your time." A nod, before he leans into her with a sigh.

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

BF looks around as the ground crunches slightly. He sighs. Where is he? A figure appears and looks at him, despite not being able to even see their eyes it was clear who this was.

"Tails?" The being sighs, rotating the mic in his hands, pointing it at the other. Oh. Ok then.

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

Xenophanes grins to themself. His plan was going well for the most part. He would be Sonic. Not Sonic himself- oh no no no he couldn't dare replace that sweet little hedgehog. Their suffering was wonderful. They were so...

PERFECT!

Now how to get rid of that stupid, tiny, brat. He needed them gone for his plan. A sigh escapes the demonic hedgehog. One day.

One day this world would truly be his.

Sonic would be theirs as well. :]

#a world of agony ( ic )#rapping salvation ( bf )#wanting to fly high ( tails )#falling hero ( sonic )#helping beauty ( gf )#the demonic imposter ( xenophanes )

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urisk-factor · 4 years ago

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Creedock Headcannons!

Alastor sometimes refers to Dock as "his fiend" in an affectionate manner.

Bandy, after finding out that Dock and Alastor are married, secretly started referring to Dock as a dalf instead of dilf (dad Alastor would like to fuck). If either ever found out he'd surely be in deep shit. (The person who started the whole Dock dilf thing knows who they are.)

Dock will, when he's gone without sleep for a while and is tired, sometimes just boop Alastor's nose. Alastor doesn't mind, and honestly thinks it's sweet.

Alastor is the only person who's seen Dock without a shirt. Dock doesn't like being seen shirtless because of some scars on his chest, stomach, and shoulders that he's really ashamed of. Alastor doesn't know the source of these scars because Dock refuses to tell anyone, and Alastor doesn't push it.

Dock is one of the few people who can get Alastor to smile an actually happy smile, and laugh and actually joyful laugh.

Once a month, they have a movie night. They'll sit on the couch, usually Dock will lie down but arch his legs a bit in a triangle, and Alastor will sit on Dock's belly and lean on Dock's legs. Alastor prefers crime, while Dock is 100% horror. They usually watch a mix of both.

If Dock has his mask on and they've been separated for a while, instead of kissing, they'll just gently press their forheads their foreheads together. Sometimes they do this even if Dock doesn't have his mask.

Dock is kind of self conscious about his appearance, and constantly doubts himself, and thinks that anyone complimenting him is lying (totally not me projecting). Alastor is the only person he believes.

Dock has this big warm dark green wooly (?) jumper that he wears out of work. Alastor is constantly stealing it. It's big on Dock but absolutely huge on Alastor.

They constantly steal each other's pens/pencils/other writing tools. I like to imagine Alastor writing something in a pen that's covered in dried blood, and someone points it out, and he's like "oh, I'm borrowing it from my husband."

Bandy once called Alastor Mama, and Dock Papa. Lance joined in. Alastor is officially the Jury Mum and Dock the Jury Dad. (Lorelei and Diana are wine aunts.)

Both Kings of zoning out.

Sometimes Alastor and Dock will just quietly hook their pinkies. It reassures them.

Dock always greets Alastor with "Ceud mìle fàilte!"

They sometimes jokingly mock each other's accents. Alastor's is a very posh English accent from the London area, while Dock's is more Highlands in Scotland area. (Or the Heartless equivalent).

Alastor is a city boy while Dock is from a small village surrounded by extraordinary hills and vast lochs. Alastor visited Dock's home town and literally fell in love with it.

Alastor was the one to ask Dock to start dating, Dock was the one to pop the question.

Dock has a weighted blanket, and once put it on Alastor. Alastor liked it, even if he couldn't actually move.

Dock has to hide his snacks in high up cupboards, because Alastor will randomly crave very bitter and sour sweets, and there is no stopping that little man.

Their wedding was small, virtually no one was there sans for a few old friends (Diana was among that group). They didn't have a honeymoon, but didn't want one. Every anniversary, they make a big meal and dine by candle light.

Sometimes Dock will fall asleep on the couch and Alastor will stumble across him after a while, and join him.

They both have a very dark and morbid sense of humour.

They both like listening to the other talk about their interests, even if they themselves don't understand it. They're just happy to see the other happy.

Dock likes to drop little Gaelic phrases into conversation with Alastor, and Alastor likes to do the same back. Dock usually starts it.

They both have their own little version of morse code so they can communicate without others knowing so.

Sometimes Dock puts little braids in Alastor's hair, like Astrid with Hiccup in httyd, and Alastor leaves them in until he has to wash his hair (which is a lot or else it gets really greasy).

Ok but just a thought, what if Alastor was a vampire and Dock was half giant half fallen angel. Immortal husbands.

Alastor wasn't very fond of the colour green before he met Dock, now it's his favourite (although he'd never admit it because he thinks the concept of having a favourite colour is unprofessional).

Alastor absolutely cannot pick up Dock's boots at all. (They're big, as I mentioned in another post, reaching Dock's knees. They're all black, with steel toes and soles, and there's a little plate at the heel. They have several straps and buckles, and one has a chair around the ankle from some idiot's attempt to contain Dock. They have some complicated lacing, the soles are large and made to be durable, and there are a few silver markings on them.) Dock makes sure to always put them away carefully so they don't block anything Alastor might need access to.

They have a massive pride flag in the living room.

Neither likes summer. It's too hot. Alastor because he has to take off his coat - the very coat that brings comfort to him. Dock because look at all the layers he's wearing.

Alastor is sometimes too nervous to ask Dock to bend down for a kiss, so he'll either climb up onto a counter or just climb Dock.

#dock #abd illustrates #demon whispers about nonsense #heartless headcanons #alastor x dock #alastor creed #creedock #tw scars #tw self consciousness

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howtosingit · 4 years ago

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Fic: Ice in My Veins, Fire in My Heart

An unexpected, once-in-a-lifetime ice storm in Austin leads to a chaotic day for Carlos and the 126.

Written for @911giftexchange | For @charlie-bradburyss

6K | Also on AO3

A/N: Happy Holidays, Holly! I hope this fulfills all of your “tarlos + fire fam/found family + hurt/comfort (emphasis on the hurt)” wishes. May the New Year bring you all the love and light that you deserve!

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

The thing is, no one’s really expecting Austin to be pummeled by a once-in-a-lifetime freak ice storm.

Though rare, it’s not unheard of for the Texas panhandle to get hit by the southern tip of major storm systems that move across the Midwest, but Austin is typically too far south to really experience that kind of intense winter weather. Sometimes, they’ll have icy nights that lead to dangerous morning commutes, but that’s mostly because the majority of Austinites aren’t experienced with driving on ice-covered roads. There’s always a surplus of vehicular accidents to respond to on those mornings.

But, this is way more than that.

When TK first looks out the kitchen window, he has to do a double-take to confirm what he’s seeing, his coffee burning the back of his throat as he swallows quickly in shock. Every single inch of the world outside is covered in a shimmering layer of ice - every tree branch and leaf, every fence post and door handle; individual blades of grass find themselves trapped inside a shell of frozen water, and the back patio has turned into a miniature ice skating rink, complete with furniture coated in long, thin icicles.

He takes a moment to admire the ethereal beauty of a rare, wintery Austin, how the early morning sunlight dances across the rooftops of the neighboring houses. Then, realizing what all this ice is going to mean for the rest of his day, he glances down at his watch, cursing when he realizes what time it is.

“Babe!” he calls, grabbing two thermoses from the cupboard. He transfers his coffee into one, then fills the other. “Move faster, we’ve gotta get to work!” He quickly preps Carlos’s coffee the way he knows he likes it, then grabs a few protein bars for each of them to eat on the way to work. “Babe!” he calls again when he doesn’t hear anything from the bedroom.

“What the hell are you yelling for, TK? We still have an hour before our shifts,” Carlos gripes as he comes around the corner, uniform already on and shoes in hand. He gives TK a look of mild annoyance, his signature sass on display, and TK honestly adores him even if he is being obtuse at the moment.

Instead of answering, TK just points out the window, watching as Carlos takes in the icy spectacle, his eyes widening as his jaw drops. “Wow,” his husband breathes out, clearly in awe. Then, having the same realization that TK did, he glances down at his own watch. “Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah, I thought you might say that,” TK laughs, moving towards the hall closet to grab their coats. He reaches towards the back, finding the ice scraper that Carlos kind of made fun of him for buying a few years ago.

“You made me coffee?” Carlos asks when he reappears, holding his green thermos.

“Of course I did.”

“Have I mentioned that I really love you?” his husband questions, pulling on his coat.

“If this is your way of apologizing for getting sassy with me, I’m going to need you to work a little harder, babe,” TK jokes, sliding up next to him and raising his chin. Carlos rolls his eyes, a smile pulling at his lips as he ducks down to press their mouths together in a gentle kiss.

“How about I give you a ride to work?” Carlos suggests, still close enough that his lips drag against TK’s as he speaks.

“That’s a very sweet offer,” TK says, staring into his husband’s twinkling brown eyes, “but you were going to do that anyway.” Carlos’s police cruiser drives better on ice, so he always drives TK to work if there are hazardous conditions. “Try again.”

“How about,” Carlos starts, his voice going deeper as he trails his lips along TK’s jaw and up to his ear, “I drive you to work now, and then when we get home later, I run you a bath to help warm you up?”

TK hums, his heart rate picking up. “Make it a bath for two, and I’ll consider all of your indiscretions forgiven.”

Carlos huffs out a laugh, moving to press another kiss to his lips. “You are quite the negotiator,” he says, stepping away and grabbing two protein bars off the counter. “I accept your terms.”

The drive to work takes twice as long as usual, Carlos driving as carefully as possible through Austin towards the fire station. The roads seem somewhat deserted, and TK wonders if most people got stuck in their driveways before they could get far enough to cause mayhem in the streets. For the most part, the ice seems to be sticking around longer than it usually does. Carlos pulls to a stop outside Ladder 126.

“See you later?” TK asks, leaning over the console to give him another kiss.

“Probably sooner than that, I’d guess,” Carlos says, knocking their foreheads together gently, the way he always does when they’re saying goodbye at the start of a workday. TK smiles, reaching for the door and climbing out onto the slick pavement. “Be careful out there.”

“You too, officer,” TK responds, giving him a wink before closing the door. He turns, heading into the station to being what will no doubt be a non-stop day.

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

Carlos is right.

Almost immediately after his husband texts him that he made it safely to the police station, they’re called out to an accident on Lakewood Drive. When they arrive, TK spots Carlos in the distance, directing cars to use an alternate route.

A large semi-truck takes up the middle of the bridge, the trailer sitting nearly perpendicular to the tractor section. It still seems to be standing upright, so TK doesn’t immediately understand what accident they’re responding to.

“Officer,” his dad calls when Carlos spots them and starts moving their way, careful on the patches of ice that still remain on the bridge. “What’ve we got here?”

“Semi swerved a bit on the ice into the lane of oncoming traffic. Passenger car coming from the north then swerved to avoid it, completely lost control on the ice, and hit the guardrail on the passenger side,” Carlos reports, pointing in the direction of a mangled section of the barrier. “Car flipped and slid down the embankment.”

“How many passengers?” his dad clarifies, and TK can tell the way he tenses, his brain already working on a plan of action.

“Just the driver, an adult woman,” Carlos answers, his breath visible in the cold morning air. “My partner made it down to her and she’s responsive, but definitely stuck.”

“Okay,” Owen says, turning to face his team, jaw tight. “Jaws of life, everyone down. Medical will be here in a minute, let’s try to have her out for them.”

There’s a near-collective nod from all of them, but before they can move, they hear a crash in the distance. Turning, TK watches as the line of traffic becomes a danger zone of its own when an approaching car is unable to stop before it runs into the car ahead of it. Like, dominoes, the line begins to splay, cars trying to move to avoid being hit.

“Damn,” his dad sighs, shaking his head. “Change of plan. Ryder, Strickland, Strand-Reyes, you’re down with the jaws of life. Marwani and Chavez, let’s see if we can keep things from getting worse up here.”

TK follows Judd and Paul to the truck, grabbing everything that they might need. As they head towards the damaged guardrail, he passes close to Carlos, nudging him in the side.

“Have I ever told you how much I love to watch you work?” he says, giving his husband a wink as he moves past him. Carlos follows after him, laughing softly.

“TK, for God’s sake, will you stop flirting with your husband for one day,” Judd cries, and TK looks over to find him smiling at him, his eyes dancing with mirth.

“Now, come on, Judd,” Paul adds, his tone teasing. “They’re just being newlyweds.”

“Newlyweds?” Judd scoffs, rolling his eyes. “They’ve been married for two years!”

“Oh, wait, you’re right,” Paul says exaggeratedly, like he’s just remembered. He turns back to TK and Carlos, now walking side-by-side, his face morphing into a look of disgust. “Stop being so in-love, it’s getting weird now.”

TK huffs out a fake laugh, his breath swirling through the air as he sticks his tongue out at his friends. They reach the top of the embankment, looking down at the wreckage. The car still seems to be pretty intact, so TK is hoping this won’t be too bad. He feels a solid hand on his back, turning to find Carlos looking at him, his face serious.

“Don’t do anything reckless down there, or I will arrest you,” he jokes, beginning to walk away.

“On what grounds?” TK gasps, his jaw dropping.

Carlos pauses, his eyebrows furrowing as he thinks about it. “Trying to give me a heart attack before I’m 35,” he finally decides, shooting TK a wink before leaving them to go help with the traffic pile-up.

It’s slow-going, but TK, Paul, and Judd finally make it down the hill to the overturned car. Paul moves over to the window, speaking to the woman, while TK and Judd set down their bags. From what he can see, it looks like it’ll be a pretty straightforward removal.

They’re just prying the door open when his dad radios that medical has arrived. TK moves back to one of his bags over by the bridge, looking for more gauze to press to their patient’s shallow head wound, when there’s a loud crack to the right. He looks over, watching as a somewhat large icicle drops from the bridge and shatters onto the frozen creek below. Looking up, he watches another icicle detach itself and rapidly fall to the ground.

“Shit,” he says, jerking to the side to avoid another one. He feels his feet slide out from under him, unable to gain traction on the ice, and before he knows it, he’s falling flat on his back, his head slamming hard against the solid ground beneath him.

His vision swims, pain coursing through him. His stomach turns, and he feels like he’s going to be sick. He closes his eyes, trying to breath. He thinks he hears a voice in the distance, maybe Paul or Judd calling to him, but he can’t make it out. There’s another loud crack from above, and he opens his eyes just in time to watch a rather large icicle grow larger as it flies towards him.

Pain bursts from his abdomen as he lets out a gasp, his vision swimming once more as his body tries to handle all of the trauma it’s currently experiencing. He clenches his jaw tightly, refusing to let out a yell. He can handle this, he’s done pain before. Between a gunshot and falling through the floor of a house and then falling off the roof of a house just last year, he can handle this. It’s no big deal, so he’s not going to make it one.

He lifts his head, blinking to clear his vision. There are voices around him, fuzzy shapes moving in his peripherals, coming closer. He ignores them, instead looking down towards his stomach. The sight causes him to gasp again, the pain coming back full force now that he has eyes on the source.

There’s an icicle buried inside of his abdomen.

From what he can see, it looks to be as round as his fist and about two feet long, the top of it gleaming threateningly in the sunlight, almost as if it’s proud of itself for the damage it’s just done.

“Fuck,” TK moans, lowering his head as Paul and Judd finally reach his side. He still can’t hear what they’re saying, so he just looks up at the clear blue sky instead. A thought pops into his head, almost making him laugh.

Carlos is totally going to kill him for this.

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

Sometimes, Carlos really hates living in Texas.

Well, that’s an oversimplification. It’s more that he hates the kind of stereotypical attitude that many straight men from Texas possess. The kind of “I’m built Texas tough” mentality that leads to reckless, dangerous, and truly annoying behavior. The kind of attitude that causes a fully-grown man responsible for a six-car pile-up to scream in his father-in-law’s face about how stupid and moronic everyone else is, including the firefighters currently fixing the mess he’s made, forcing Carlos to handcuff him and stick him in the back of his cruiser just so that they can all get a moment of peace.

“Did you see the size of that vein in his neck?” Mateo asks as they move from car to car, making sure that everyone’s okay. “I thought he was going to collapse or something, his face was so red.”

“TK’s gonna be so upset that he missed you wrestling him to the ground,” Marjan pipes in from his other side, elbowing him in the ribs. Carlos just rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

“You know that’s not a turn-on for him, right?”

Marjan scoffs. “Sure, okay, I definitely believe that.”

Captain Strand approaches the three of them, effectively ending the conversation. “No one’s injured in those three cars, so I told them all to sit tight until the tow truck gets here. We may be able to help them once we’ve got the driver down there stabilized.” They all nod in agreement. “Marjan, Mateo, why don’t you keep making the rounds, keep people from trying to get out of their cars. We don’t need any unexpected accidents or falls.” The two firefighters accept their orders, moving away. “You’ve got someone directing traffic further down the road?” Owen asks Carlos.

“Yeah, at Lakewood and Carpenter,” Carlos says, pointing in that direction. “We shouldn’t have any traffic through here from now on.”

Before Owen can respond, they hear a sound from the bridge. They both turn to see the ambulance arrive and begin to walk towards it, eager to fill Michelle and her team in on what’s happening. At his side, Owen radios to his team that medical has arrived and will be down soon.

They’ve just made it onto the bridge, Michelle already making her way towards them, when they hear a shout from down below. They both freeze, trying to listen, but then can’t make out the words. Then, Owen’s radio crackles to life, Judd’s voice coming through, his words rushed.

“We need medical down here ASAP, I’ve got a firefighter down.”

Carlos feels the blood rush from his face, his heart slamming into his ribcage. He shares a look with his father-in-law, and it’s clear that they both know who Judd’s talking about.

“Talk to me, Judd. What’s going on?” Owen says, already heading to the edge of the bridge, Carlos following right behind him.

He stops short when his eyes land on the scene below. He doesn’t even need Judd's report to confirm what he’s seeing. At the bottom of the embankment, almost under the bridge itself, he sees TK laying on the ground, unmoving, a giant shard of ice sticking out of his midsection.

He doesn’t even think before he takes off down the slope, moving as quickly as he can without falling.

“TK!” he shouts, not even sure if the other man can hear him. He finally gets to the bottom, rushing over to his side. “TK!”

Paul moves aside, allowing him to kneel down by his head. He takes his face gently in his hands, watching as TK’s eyes blink dazily, his pupils unfocused and his mouth slack.

“Nobody jostle him,” Michelle yells, and Carlos looks up to find her and her team closing in. “We don’t want that thing to shift an inch. Paul, hold it steady for me if you can.”

Carlos stares down at the two-foot icicle currently buried in his husband’s gut. Every time TK breathes, it pulses, almost threatening to fall over. Paul reaches out and wraps his hands around the top, keeping it vertical.

“What happened?” Michelle asks, kneeling on TK’s other side as she assesses the situation.

“He slipped on the ice and fell, then the icicle came down on him before he could move out of the way,” Judd explains.

“He might have a concussion from the fall,” Michelle mutters, moving to shine a light in TK’s drooping eyes. “Seems likely. Rosewater, take over for Paul, Gillian, see if you can stabilize our patient in the car over there. Carlos,” she says, and his eyes snap up to look at her. “I need you to talk to him okay, try to keep him awake and responding. He could go into shock at any minute, and that’s not going to help us.”

He nods, ducking down to press his face closer to the one that he gets to wake up to every day. “Hey, baby,” he says softly, stroking TK’s forehead. “Hey, it’s me. Can you open your eyes for me? Just open your eyes for a minute, okay?”

TK moans, his eyes blinking rapidly a few times before he opens them enough for Carlos to see those green irises that he loves so much. “Carlos?” he mumbles.

“Yeah, hey, it’s me, I’m right here,” Carlos says, his voice a little unsteady as he tries to stay calm. “How are you feeling?”

“Cold,” TK mutters, his breath creating wisps of steam in the air above him.

“Any pain?” Carlos asks, his eyes shifting down to glare at the icicle for a moment.

“My head hurts,” TK admits, letting out a small gasp.

“Anywhere else?”

TK shakes his head, his eyes darting everywhere.

“That’s probably the adrenaline,” Michelle interjects. She stands up, surveying the bridge above them. “I’m worried his body heat’s going to start melting that icicle faster than we want it to. We’ve gotta get him up there.”

“I don’t think we can get him up the slope without jostling him too much, there’s too much ice,” Tim says.

Michelle turns to Owen, her face grave. “Get the ladder ready, Captain, we’re gonna have to lift him.”

With only a quick, wide-eyed glance down at his son, Owen shoots back up the hill, Judd following him. Off to the side, Carlos sees that Paul and Nancy have managed to remove the driver from the vehicle.

“Carlos?” TK says, and he quickly looks back down at his husband, running his thumbs along his cheek.

“Yeah, Ty, I’m right here,” Carlos assures him, his bottom lip wavering.

“I’m a little scared,” TK admits, his eyes glassy as he stares up at him. “It looks pretty bad, doesn’t it?”

“You’re gonna be okay, cariño,” he says, his voice hard and clear.

“You look scared,” TK tells him, raising a hand to touch Carlos’s mouth.

“I’m not scared, I promise,” Carlos lies, leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead. “I’m never scared when I’m with you.”

TK doesn’t respond. He just stares up at Carlos, eyes still unfocused, a wide smile taking over his face.

Minutes later, the team loads TK up on a stretcher with no major problems, and for one shining moment, Carlos thinks everything’s going to be fine.

He climbs up the embankment as fast as he can to meet him at the top, Michelle at his side. She’s telling him that she’s called for another medical team to come for the driver, who thankfully doesn’t appear to be in critical condition, when they hear a shout from Tim.

“Damn it,” Michelle says, running towards where TK’s stretcher is now laying on the pavement. Carlos follows, his heart back in his throat, and the sight that greets them nearly causes him to collapse.

“Tim, apply as much pressure as you can,” Michelle says, throwing her hands on TK’s abdomen, blood rushing from where the icicle has shifted. “We have to get him in the van, we’ll have a better chance of stabilizing him there.”

Carlos watches as TK’s head lists to the side, his eyes dropping closed.

“He’s crashing, let’s move people!” Michelle shouts.

There’s a mad rush all around him, but Carlos barely comprehends it. All he can do is stare at his husband, his unmoving body, the blood draining from his face while simultaneously gushing from the wound in his stomach.

He doesn’t feel the way his knees hit the pavement, or Marjan’s arms around him. He doesn’t feel the tears falling on his cheeks, or the way he starts to shake. He doesn’t even feel the cold, unfamiliar Austin air.

As TK is pulled away from him, he doesn’t feel anything at all.

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

TK wakes up in the hospital.

At this point, it all feels very familiar. Every hospital room seems to smell the same, sterile and uninviting. The sheets are scratchy, which coordinates nicely with the scratchy hospital gown they have him wearing. He can hear the gentle beeping from the monitor next to him, and feel the pinch of an IV in his left arm.

TK opens his eyes slowly, staring up at the ceiling as he assesses his current state. The lights are low, but it still takes him a minute to adjust, his head faintly throbbing. He recalls how much his head hurt on the scene, how his vision went blurry, and assumes he got a concussion from his fall.

He shifts slightly, gasping as the movement pulls at his midsection and an intense pain radiates throughout his entire body. The sound causes a weight against his right arm to shift, and he looks down, his eyes immediately softening at the sight before him.

Carlos is seated next to the bed, his body bent so that he can rest his head against TK’s arm, which he’s also gripping with one of his hands. His other hand is awkwardly linked with TK’s own, their fingers threaded tightly together. Carlos’s face is turned towards him, his eyes closed as he rests. TK notices how puffy his eyes are, and how his skin is more pale than usual. His heart sinks in his chest, an intense guilt masking his own pain as he stares down at the man he loves more than anything.

Before he can even think about how much pain it might cause, he lifts his left arm across his body to run his fingers through Carlos’s dark brown curls. It’s his favorite thing to do on the rare occasions where he’s the first one to wake up in the morning, and he knows his husband absolutely loves it. Sure enough, Carlos lets out a soft moan, unconsciously tilting his head towards TK’s fingers.

He can tell the minute that Carlos realizes what’s happening by the way his whole body tenses. His eyes fly open, his brown eyes wide as he sits up straight. His gaze finds TK, drinking him in, and TK can’t do anything but smile back at him, squeezing their hands together.

“Ty,” Carlos breathes, his eyes filling with tears.

“Hey, baby,” TK says, pulling gently on Carlos’s hand until he gets the hint.

His husband stands, shifting closer to the head of the bed, before bending down to press a soft kiss to his waiting lips. Carlos tries to make the kiss quick, but TK reaches up to grip the back of his neck, keeping him close.

“How long has it been?” TK asks when they separate, rubbing their noses together. At this point, it’s their traditional question when one of them is in the hospital.

“They rushed you to surgery when you first got here, which took about four hours,” Carlos explains, his voice shaking as he runs his fingers soothingly through TK’s hair. “You’ve been sleeping for about five.”

“So, still the same day?” TK confirms. It’s an odd question, but after going through one multi-day coma in his life, he’s hoping to never have to do another. Besides, he knows Carlos wouldn’t handle it well.

“Still the same day,” his husband confirms, the first sign of a smile pulling at his lips.

“That’s good.”

“Very good,” Carlos agrees, leaning in to kiss him. This one feels a little more heated than the last one. “You know how I get when I don’t get to kiss you goodnight.”

“You become the equivalent of a child who’s told he can’t have ice cream right before bed,” TK supplies, enjoying the shocked look that appears on Carlos’s face. “Or so I’m told.”

“Told?” Carlos cries. “Who told you that? Give me the traitors’ names, Tyler!”

“Just for that, I’m not going to,” he laughs, gasping for air when the movement sends a flare of pain through him.

“Are you okay?” Carlos asks, worry written clearly on his face. He reaches out, his hands fluttering around him but too afraid to touch.

“Yeah, I just,” TK grits out, holding his side. “Fuck, that does not feel good.”

It takes a few minutes of deep breathing for him to finally settle back down, reaching for Carlos’s hand when he’s sure that his grip won’t break his fingers. Carlos gingerly takes a seat next to him on the bed, running his free hand through his hair to soothe him.

TK’s just about to ask exactly what the damage is when there’s a knock on the door. They both turn to find his dad poking his head through, an apologetic smile on his face.

“Hey boys, sorry to interrupt,” he says, glancing behind him at something they can’t see. “There’s just some people here who wanted to say a quick hello.”

TK rolls his eyes, sharing a smile with Carlos. This happens every time someone from the firehouse ends up in the hospital - though to be fair, it’s usually him.

“You know you can always let them in, Dad,” he says, his fondness clear in his tone. Carlos just scoots a little closer, pressing one last kiss to his lips.

“I love you,” he mutters, his eyes shining.

“I love you, too,” TK whispers back as the door is thrown wide open and the equivalent of a clown car files into his room.

Judd and Grace lead the way, followed by Paul, Marjan, and Mateo, then Michelle, Tim, and Nancy. His dad, the last one, closes the door behind him. Strictly speaking, this is way too many visitors to have in a single room at a time, but there are nurses at every hospital who are willing to bend the rules a bit for familiar first responders, as long as they’re discreet about it.

TK looks around at them all - Grace, with her hand on Carlos’s shoulder, and Michelle at the foot of his bed, her eyes glinting with happiness; his dad standing next to her; Mateo, Marjan, and Paul all standing to his left, Paul reaching out to punch him lightly on the shoulder, a bright smile on his face.

They’re his family, all of them. And they all saved his life today.

“I, um,” he starts, his voice thick with emotion as he looks around at them all. He feels Carlos’s hand slide up his arm, his thumb gently caressing his bicep in support. He turns to look at him, noticing how Carlos still has his back to most of the room as he faces him on the bed. They share a look, just between the two of them, and Carlos nods, a tear falling down his cheek as he squeezes TK’s arm.

“I, um, I wanted to thank you all,” TK says, looking around the room again, his eyes hovering over every face that makes him feel safe and loved and whole, “for saving me today. I - we - will never be able to tell you how much it means to know that we have all of you by our side, looking out for us.”

He feels a tear fall onto his cheek, but before he can reach up to brush it away, Michelle shifts from the end of his bed, coming around the side to stand next to him. She reaches out for him and Carlos, drying his face and gripping his husband’s arm tightly.

“Don’t be silly. You boys are our family,” Michelle says, “so we’re always going to be here for you. No matter what. It’s as simple as that.”

“She’s right,” Judd pipes in, his arm around Grace. “Though, full disclosure, we are gifting you a bulk-size roll of bubble wrap this Christmas.”

“Hey now, c’mon Judd,” Paul says, his hands buried in his pockets. “You weren’t supposed to tell him.”

“Ignore Judd, y’all,” Grace adds, rolling her eyes as she pats her husband’s chest. “He doesn’t do Christmas shopping, and I have much better taste, trust me on that.”

TK huffs out a laugh, wincing at the way it pulls at his injury. No one else catches it, too busy laughing at Grace’s comment and Judd’s offended expression. He glances over at Carlos, seeing a tightness behind his eyes, and knows that his pain didn’t go completely unnoticed. TK reaches over, squeezing his thigh where it’s pressed against his own. Carlos gives him a small smile, grabbing his hand to press a kiss to his fingertips.

The tightness in his eyes doesn’t go anywhere, though, and TK’s heart caves.

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

The team stays until visiting hours are over, laughing and joking as they fill TK and Carlos in about the rest of the work day. It seems that much of the ice started to melt by the middle of the afternoon, making the end of the day much easier than the beginning. Finally, a nurse comes in, shocked to find so many people in one room, and tells them that visiting hours are over. One-by-one, they come over to hug TK and Carlos, Grace even pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads.

When only Carlos and his dad remain, the nurse checks his vitals, telling him that everything appears to be normal. Carlos stands by his side, hand on his shoulder, as TK honestly answers her questions about his pain levels. She helps him to adjust his position on the bed, showing Carlos how to help him so he’ll feel the least amount of pain. His husband listens closely, his face set and serious.

She leaves, and Carlos excuses himself to the bathroom, leaving him alone with his dad.

“How’re you feeling, kid?” his dad asks, sitting next to him.

“A little tender,” he admits, running his hand lightly over the thick bandage on his stomach. They’re quiet for a moment, TK biting his bottom lip. “It was pretty bad, wasn’t it?” he finally asks.

His dad looks at him, his eyes softening, before reaching out and taking his hand. “You crashed right before they got you in the ambulance. The icicle hit a pretty major blood vessel near your liver, and you lost a lot of blood when it shifted unexpectedly.”

TK is quiet, thoughts rolling through his mind. “He saw, didn’t he?” he confirms, his voice barely more than a hushed whisper.

“Yeah,” his dad admits, his tone heavy. “He wasn’t in a good place when you left, so his partner drove him here and Michelle stayed with him until I could come.” TK nods, his eyes filling with tears. “He’s gonna be okay, though, TK. You both are.”

His dad stands again, looking around the room. “I’m going to head home,” he says, reaching out to run his fingers through TK’s hair. “I know you’re in good hands for the night. I’ll come back first thing in the morning, okay?”

“Yeah,” TK says. Then, he gets an idea. “Can you help me shift a little?”

His dad smiles knowingly before reaching out again to help move him to the left side of the bed, TK breathing deeply through the pain.

Carlos finally comes out of the bathroom and his dad gives them both a hug, TK watching as he whispers something in his husband’s ear before pressing a kiss to his temple. Then, with a final wave, they’re alone again.

“Hey,” TK says, breaking the silence.

“Hey,” Carlos parrots back, his voice thin and uneven.

“Come here,” TK says, patting the now open space beside him. Carlos moves across the room, glancing down at the spot doubtfully.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Ty,” he says, his eyes full of so much pain.

“Well, I don’t want to go another minute without you laying by my side, so get your ass up here.” The hard tone of his voice leaves no room for questions, so his husband sighs, sliding next to him as gently as possible.

They lay there for a moment, just breathing together. Then, like a dam breaking, Carlos turns onto his side, placing an arm over his chest as he tucks his face into TK’s neck. In no time at all, TK feels tears soaking the collar of his gown, and his own tears finally fall at the evidence of Carlos’s silent pain.

“I’m so sorry for scaring you today, baby,” he sobs, bringing his hand up to press against the dark curls near his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

Carlos doesn’t respond except to shake his head, his sobs continuing. TK holds him through it, his heart shattering into a million pieces in his chest. Throughout the past four year, Carlos has had a few nightmares of TK bleeding out in front of him - caused by him getting shot before they even started dating - so he knows that today had to be especially brutal for his husband.

“I know it was an accident, and that you’re going to be okay now,” Carlos finally mumbles into his neck, “but I was so fucking scared that I had lost you there for a minute. I’ve never seen Michelle so intense before, and I really thought this was it.”

“I know, baby, I know,” TK says, trailing his fingers along the back of Carlos’s neck. He digs his nails in just a bit, knowing that the feeling will help ground Carlos. Sure enough, his husband shivers against him, letting out a shaky breath. “You didn’t lose me, though. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“You promise?” Carlos asks weakly.

“Babe, look at me,” TK says, pulling his head back to look down at him. Carlos’s eyes are red-rimmed, his face puffy from crying so much today. He looks so small, so cut open and raw, that TK wishes he could take all of his pain away. “I promise that I am going to do everything in my power to come home to you in one piece at the end of every day, okay?”

Carlos nods, his eyes falling closed. TK stares at his long, gorgeous eyelashes now soaked with tears. Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to each eyelid, feeling the way that Carlos relaxes further into his side.

“I’m sorry that our bath plans got ruined for this evening,” he says after a few minutes, recalling their conversation from this morning.

“That’s okay,” Carlos says, his fingers lightly tracing TK’s collarbone through his hospital gown. “Once I get you home, I’m probably never going to let you leave again, so there will be plenty of time for baths.”

TK laughs, ignoring the pain when Carlos joins him. “I like the sound of that,” he admits.

Their gazes lock for a moment before Carlos presses up until their lips meet, the kiss igniting a fire inside of him from head to toe. It doesn’t matter how many times he gets to kiss Carlos, TK thinks that each one feels new and different and life-affirming, his body and soul practically singing at the chance to connect with his husband in a way that no one else can. That no one else ever will.

It’s something that he knows he’ll never get tired of for as long as he lives.

Which will be a very, very long time.

He’s sure of it.

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

#911giftexchange #tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star #tk strand #carlos reyes #I wrote a thing #charlie-bradburyss

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