#what responsibility looks like for him afterwards involves a lot more civil work

[thedragonagelesbian]

the orlesian grey wardens rolling up into denerim only to find that both the fereldan grey wardens survived killing the archdemon somehow and now one of them is king and the other is his 'court enchanter' which as far as anyone can tell just means sitting in his lap all day giggling: ...you know what maybe we'll bring in someone else to lead the rebuilding effort

[dailycharacteroption]

Deity Drop 1: Apsu

Though today’s subject is also lawful good, he is much less involved than Erastil. I present the draconic deity Apsu!

 It always seems that in fantasy settings, at least the ones with their roots in D&D, there are always two major dragon gods, one good, one evil, and Pathfinder is no different. However, while the classic duo in many D&D settings are brother and sister, in Pathfinder, the duo is father and son, and today we are looking at the father.

According to draconic belief, Apsu is in fact one of the deities responsible for the creation of the multiverse, and while that is likely an exaggeration on the part of dragons, it no doubt has a grain of truth to it. In any case, Apsu originally did not go by a name, and was originally described as one of two great waters (which ties into the description of his real Mesopotamian namesake), the other being Tiamat (whom is implied to be, or at least a version of the very same Tiamat running around D&D’s various settings, but who is only mentioned in Pathfinder briefly because of legal reasons), whom was his mate and wife.

The pair had many children together, but one in particular, Dahak, was a violent and destructive being whose rampages are the very thing that turned the plane of Hell into a burning place of suffering long before the first devils or even asura arrived on the plane. He was not content to end his rampage at an entire plane of existence, however, and slew many of his siblings, whose broken remains fell to the material plane and were reborn as the first metallic dragons.

Enraged, Apsu named himself and took form, joining with the metallic dragons against his wayward son, defeating him. However, before the final blow was struck, Dahak pleaded for aid from his mother, who answered, offering the dragons injured in the fight healing if they would turn on Apsu. Those that accepted became the first chromatic dragons.

Dahak escaped in the ensuing fight, but Apsu ordered his followers not to pursue, turning to ask his mate, who took the name Tiamat, why he had aided his son.

Tiamat only answered that she blamed Apsu for the death of their children, and cast them out from their home to wander.

Since that time, Apsu and Dahak have only met once, when they teamed up to help other gods defeat the monstrous Rovagug. After the battle, Dahak swore he would kill his father, and left. Ever since then, Apsu has been a distant leader of dragonkind, quietly preparing for the day when he and his son will have their final showdown on the surface of Golarion.

Apsu himself, who dwells in a roving demiplane home called the Immortal Ambulatory, teaches that one should seek glory and peace, and that leaders should be just and fair, which makes sense as he is the patron deity of all good dragons, metallic and otherwise. However, while many good dragons worship him, very few among them actually take training in divine magic under his guidance, perhaps out of draconic independence. However, he does have a small following of humanoids on Golarion, most notably the group known as the Platinum Band, who do train as proper priests of Apsu.

Unsurprisingly, Apsu has a much wider following on the planet Triaxus, where the native Rhyphorians and their dragonkin allies among the Dragon Legions of the Allied Territories.

Though Apsu’s parenting skills are called into question by the existence of Dahak, he is nonetheless a god of justice and good, serving as an inspiration to those who wish to uphold his ideals. He commands his followers to help those in need, as well as guide them to become stronger, and punish the wicked that betray your mercy.

This aligns him with a lot of paladins, as a lawful good god he is at least respected by many civilizations, but he is most commonly worshipped by those who travel and do his work across the world. However, it is notable that Apsu apparently refuses to have a hand in the creation of oracles, even as part of a pantheon, as it is against his beliefs to force power upon a mortal, especially not that which also curses them. Oracles that come to worship him later do exist, apparently, as those that do gain access to unique spells. Additionally, as he is associated with the preparation for war, he is often given prayers by architects and craftsmen who build fortifications and other tools of protection for coming war.

 Apsu is served and worshipped by most good dragons, metallic and otherwise, as well as even some wyverns and drakes that have risen above bestial concerns. He does command some angels as a celestial god, but he counts no one specific outsider type as his own. He does have a herald in the form of the celestial silver dragon Oreganus, as well as Blameless Flame, a coatl surrounded by the flame of a gold dragon’s breath and Syrax the Platinum, a clockwork dragon with the mind of a once-living brass dragon.

Apsu rules over the domains of Artifice, Good, Law, Scalykind, and Travel, as well as the subdomains of Archon (by way of good or law), Construct, Dragon, Exploration, Toil, and Trade. The inclusion of Artifice is tied to the oft-forgotten aspect of Apsu as the builder of fortifications.

His second edition domains are creation, protection, travel, and wyrmkin, as well as granting spells associated with bolstering natural attacks, creating temporary items, and shapeshifting into draconic form.

Those who are devout enough to follow his deific obedience perform a daily ritual of walking in one direction for half an hour, then walking back. When traveling away from their starting point, they consider the tactical and strategic advantages of the terrain, while on the way back, they consider it’s wonder and beauty and contemplate on the Wayfinder’s role in its creation. Such devotees are granted heightened awareness, particularly when it comes to attackers.

Evangelist devotees tap into Apsu’s aspect as a crafter and preparer, gaining spells to carry large loads with a disk of force, bless weapons with the divine power of law, and create wards against the environment; as well as enchant weapons to fight on their own, and the power to pour life into an object you have crafted, animating it.

For those that follow the path of the exalted, they imbue his aspect as a traveller, blurring their movement, defying gravity, and moving with incredible speed. What’s more, they are blessed with the ability to monitor the places they have been, placing short-lived sensors whenever they teleport away, letting them see what goes on afterwards, be it pursuers, or potential spies or sneaks. Additionally, they can set up safe locations and teleport back to them with allies at later dates.

Draconic fury is the gift granted to those who become sentinels in his name, blasting foes with sprays of light, bolts of fire, and imbuing themselves with draconic wards against the elements. What’s more, they can surround themselves in a ward against foes that is most effective against evil dragons. Additionally, they can imbue their weapon with the normally reserved fury of Apsu in battle, making for supernaturally accurate attacks that are almost guaranteed to deliver deadly wounds to evil dragons.

As far as I know, neither Apsu nor Dahak have been mentioned in Starfinder yet, so it is unknown what their status is. Both deities were prophesized to end their struggle once and for all on Golarion someday, but in the far future of Starfinder the planet Golarion is missing. So, either their battle has already happened before or during The Gap, or that prophecy was derailed in the same way as most other prophecies in the Age of Lost Omens and beyond. If Apsu does exist, either with or without Dahak, he is no doubt most popularly worshipped among the Skyfire Legion and among more goodly parts of the Drakelands on Triaxus, much as they have always done. Still, any world where metallic or otherwise goodly dragons exist may see some of his influence, and I imagine that he might even have a small following in the Knights of Golarion.

That does it for today, but it’s good to demonstrate how even gods outside of the Inner Sea grouping can be just as influential in their own way.

[akatsuki-shin]

Review: 天官赐福 Tiān Guān Cì Fú (Heaven Official's Blessing)

Notes:

(Very) long post ahead

Contains spoiler

This is my personal review and does not represent the entire audience, you are free to agree or not agree with what I’ve written here

Feel free to reply/send me a message if there are things you want to discuss

Summary:

The most beloved Crown Prince, pride of the Kingdom of Xianle with abundance of talents and achievements, Xie Lian, ascended to Heaven and became a martial god at the young age of 17 on the path to fulfill his dream "to save the common people".

Three years after his ascension, he saw his kingdom beginning to decline and in order to save his beloved country, Xie Lian defied the rules of Heaven and descended back to the mortal realm. Nevertheless, instead of saving them, his interference ended up accelerating the fall of Xianle, annihilating the once prosperous nation under the war of rebellion and a mysterious, horrifying plague.

The people who once praised and worshipped him day and night now condemned him, his devotees left him, they burnt his temples and divine statues, and Xie Lian himself was ultimately banished from the Heaven.

He ascended for the second time a short while later, but was banished once more very soon after. Since then, he lived among the mortals - surviving by collecting junks as he was now branded as the "God of Misfortune", the "Scrap Collecting Immortal".

800 years later, Xie Lian ascended again for the third time. Though having neither temples nor devotees, he accepted his responsibility as a martial god and carried on with his duties until one day, there came a certain, incidental encounter with a mysterious youth clad in red.

STORY: 7/10

TGCF overall is an (almost) complete, satisfying read with well-written twists and development.

Unlike the two previous MXTX's novels, the main pairing here (HuaLian) did not have to go through complicated misunderstandings and is a beautiful representation of love and devotion. Of course, this means there is a lack of conflict between them, but considering all the trials and tribulations the characters have gone through, this lack of conflict feels like a relieving fresh spring amidst the painful and exhausting journey throughout the entire five books.

The best and my most favorite plot twist is the Earth Master Ming Yi having been dead for a while, and the "Ming Yi" we know turns out to be the Black Water Submerging Boats, He Xuan. I'm the kind of person who always suspects characters, but even my furthest suspicion was "only" him being the Reverend of Empty Words, not He Xuan.

Truthfully, prior to reading this novel, I've seen Shi Qingxuan's "MING-XIONG, I'M SORRY x9999" post before without context, and I thought Ming Yi was going to die a tragic death because of Shi Qingxuan. Turns out it's kind of the opposite, huh? Nice one, really.

I also like how each character's "end" feels satisfying. Especially for the villains, they didn't necessarily have to die some tragic, vengeful death, but was provided with an ending that perfectly fits their background story and deeds. For example, in most stories, a character like Xuan Ji would be most likely be given some well-deserved punishment as her death, given everything she's done. But no, in the end she was given a reality check and was finally able to let go of her hundreds of years grudge. And then Qi Rong - I will talk more about him later on in the "Character" section.

One part I really love is the Extra Chapter about the Cave of Ten Thousand Gods. The chapter itself overall is mostly nonsensical and chaotic, but it was just so touching when HuaLian created a "Little Hua Cheng" statue to accompany Xie Lian's "Crown Prince who Pleased the Gods" statue, especially when this Little Hua Cheng statue gave Crown Prince Xie Lian statue a flower, and then Crown Prince Xie Lian received it, lifted him up and carried him in his arms. This one was maybe a bit biased because as much as I love the current HuaLian, I have a special soft spot for the young Xie Lian carrying, cradling the little Hua Cheng back then in the past. ;v;

Though, with all due respect, I must say that TGCF is actually below my expectation.

The biggest issue I have with TGCF is... What is Xie Lian's motivation? What drives him to move forward in the story? What is even the whole story's purpose?

I'm not quite sure how to word this properly, but let me give some examples.

When you read Harry Potter, you know immediately that Voldemort is the bad guy and he must be defeated.

When you read the Lord of the Rings, you know immediately that the One Ring must be destroyed to prevent Sauron from regaining his power.

Or, in MXTX previous works...

In SVSSS, it was clear since the beginning that Shen Yuan's mission is to fix the "Proud Immortal Demon Way" if he wants to survive.

In MDZS, it was clear that Wei Wuxian, together with Lan Wangji's, needs to unravel the mystery behind that fierce left arm. All of their past stories and WangXian getting together in the end are just something they discovered along the way, not the initial "motivation" that drives the character to move forward.

What about TGCF? The Xie Lian who ascended for the third time actually looks like he just wants to go along with the flow, carrying out his duties day by day with responsibility. When Bai Wuxiang later, later, later on appeared to haunt him again, it didn't seem like Xie Lian has any ambition to hunt him down or exact a revenge, just that he wanted to forget about Bai Wuxiang and never recall anything about him ever again. The main character looks like he's not being driven by anything, just...carrying on where the plot takes him? It's just missions after missions and whatever huge things happening in between is just something they accidentally passed by along the way.

At this point, the only purpose of the story I can think of is bringing Hua Cheng and Xie Lian together. The romance is great, I have no complain. But if it's just that, no need to jammed-pack 250+ chapters just to make two people getting together?

Speaking of which, I also think that the way new characters keep being introduced all the way to almost the final showdown of the story feels info dump-ish, because the background story needs to be dropped there along with the characters, but then most of these characters fade away immediately after.

For example, the previous Civil God before Ling Wen, who looks like he’s going to pose some real trouble, but then was easily defeated and was never mentioned again afterwards. And this is especially true for He Xuan; after such a huge arc where he committed such extreme things, after that he was barely mentioned again, even having his “strong impression” leveled down by the joke about him being the poorest Calamity and owing lots of debts to Hua Cheng.

Basically what makes TGCF a long story is because there are too many stories about the side characters in addition to the main characters that are dumped out of the blue instead of slowly being revealed along the way.

Though, I love how the story gradually unravels the "Four Famous Tales" because initially, I thought it wasn't something crucial, and I wished they could've done this for other characters, too.

There is a little bit of plot holes here and there, as in who actually cut open Jian Lan/Lan Chang's baby and made it a ghost, and for what? Even if it turned out that she just met a bad guy or nobody important, at least provide an explanation in one paragraph? Especially because important side characters like Feng Xin and Mu Qing are involved here, so I'm pretty sure us readers need some explanation.

And more importantly, how can Jun Wu become the Emperor martial god? There's no mention about him ascending, only that he annihilated a dynasty of gods before sitting on the throne of the Great Martial Hall. But how can he, like, emitted god-like aura and not some evil aura? Is it because he used to be a god? But he's a ghost? Explanation where???

The gags and comedies are pretty fun, but honestly, the more I read, the more they ruin the atmosphere and suspense, added with the uncalled PDA between Hua Cheng and Xie Lian even during the most important moments. Honestly, I was bored the fuck out of my life from the moment they start fighting Jun Wu with those divine gundams, and only start gaining interest again much later on when Hua Cheng dissipated into butterflies.

Not saying the story's bad. Just... It's not up to my expectation... Characters being inserted here and there with a bunch of background story, gags and a show of PDA being flaunted during crucial moments. And when Mei Nianqing started telling the truth about the Kingdom of Wuyong, that's just plain info dump right there, seriously...

CHARACTERS: 7/10

Interesting characters, but only a few bore a lasting impression on me. Other than the main characters, which are Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, the only side characters (minus Bai Wuxiang as the main villain) who left quite some impression on me were probably just Feng Xin and Mu Qing.

Pei Ming is okay, at least he is still memorable until the end, and his character improved, too.

He Xuan, after having been introduced with such extreme, after his arc is over, was easily forgotten just like that.

Mei Nianqing, is borderline Deus Ex-Machina with a huge chunk of info dump that could solve everything, then he stopped being useful for the rest of the story.

Shi Qingxuan... Honestly, he's almost annoying, too noisy. I don’t hate him (and I kind of like him initially), but the way his character was being handled and presented post-Black Water arc feels disappointingly lazy and he was just there to make the party more merry.

Xie Lian himself, as the protagonist, how do I say this... This is maybe due to the translator's writing style (not MXTX’s fault), but whenever he screams in all capslock, it feels too extreme and borderline OOC? Of course, the original novel written in hanzi couldn't have included capslock.

What's great about him, though, is that despite all he'd gone through, he can still retain a pure heart and could not be swayed to be evil, just as he himself said "Body in the abyss, heart in paradise".

Now Hua Cheng, he is overall a super interesting character and I personally love this type of male characters. But he seriously is way too OP, almost like the original Luo Binghe (Bing-ge) a.k.a. too ideal, too perfect, no flaws, always capable of easily finding a way out in every single peril. I only forgive him for being like this because he dissipated into butterflies at the end of the battle with Jun Wu, making me think "oh, finally he's actually not invincible".

Still, his devotion to Xie Lian is very well written, very well presented, and his "I am forever your most devoted believer" is just downright the most powerful line in the whole story.

Now I promised to talk about Qi Rong, yeah? I haven't the slightest idea why it is even necessary to have Qi Rong as the Night-touring Green Lantern. I mean, yes he is there to make up the number of the Four Great Calamities, but that was for the characters who live in that world. As the novel's reader, I don't see any particularly important roles there for Qi Rong other than being an annoying meme fodder despite his actually pretty-cool first foreshadowing and appearance? Even his issue with Lang Qianqiu does not seem to give that much impact on the overall story, it could've just passed simply being explained in several pages.

Though I'd say he's got the best character development compared to others. Instead of dying as some hateful villain, the way he ended up deciding to protect Guzi at the cost of his own life can already be expected from miles away, but still bittersweet and touching nonetheless - how this crazed, mental person could still love when being presented with such pure, innocent feelings to the point that he acknowledged Guzi as a his own son.

By the way, E Ming and Ruoye are cute, I take no criticism.

TECHNICAL ASPECTS: 8/10

I can't really describe this with words, but MXTX's overall writing technique has greatly improved since MDZS.

It feels more "solid" to read instead of scattered here and there.

The info distribution has improved (fewer info dump compared to before), the story's no longer switching between past and present all of a sudden.

Description of characters and environment are sufficient, the plot is progressing steadily.

Several issues I have with this aspect though, the Prologue being ten pages is just way too long, I don't think I need that much information being stuffed right to my face right from the beginning.

There are excessive use of "Turns out..." every single time an explanation is going to come.

"Xie Lian didn't know whether he should cry or laugh" is honestly has been used probably more than 50 times just in the last two books. Although I'm reading a translation, I'm pretty sure the original Chinese version is being repetitive with this phrase, as well, because the translators couldn't just whip up any other phrase from thin air and put it in someone else's novel.

Almost half of scene transition is always caused by some sudden, external disturbance like "All of a sudden they heard someone's coming", "All of a sudden X visits their room", etc.

OVERALL SCORE: 7.3/10

Worth to read, satisfying overall. The main pairing's love story is just so well written and sweet. As long as you can withstand the violence and gore, though. 😂

TGCF highlights perhaps one of the ugliest natures of mankind: Being nice to someone as long as they're beneficial, and immediately throwing them away once the benefit was no more.

Once that person does not seem to be beneficial anymore, everyone would leave them instantly, even turning on them and start spitting on them without even trying to understand the reason why said person "stopped being beneficial".

Both as a Crown Prince and a martial god, Xie Lian and the Crown Prince of Wuyong were praised, revered, worshipped by the citizens of Xianle and Wuyong respectively. Because they were always helping, always fulfilling the people's wishes. But how easily it was for those very same people to turn on Xie Lian and the Crown Prince of Wuyong when they encountered misfortunes, completely turning a blind eye to the laborious effort both characters have been putting to save them from annihilation, even if it was visible in broad daylight.

It is also worth to note another trait of mankind that this story underlines: To always find a scapegoat or blame others for one's own misfortune and failure - be it another human being, another group of people, the government, even the gods - after having taking their generosity for granted.

Which is why I think the true villain of the story is not Bai Wuxiang, but those citizens of the ancient Wuyong who were now nothing more than resentful spirits eternally burning within the lava of Tonglu Mountain - a well deserved punishment after what they did to their Crown Prince.

[lazylazyhowl]

A work in progress— (sasusaku oneshot)

—because the Sharingan may let him copy a lot of things, but skills of the heart are not amongst them.  [Sasuke. On, accepting himself. And her.]

AO3 Link

—

"Maybe next time."

His words are calculated.

Maybe, he's said, and given himself a way out. Given her a probability that, should the odds fall through later on, he can point at and absolve himself of responsibility. The same shit Itachi pulled when they were younger, really, except he won't apologize for it.

He sees the way her face lights up with hope and feels a mirroring force of optimism inside him that he has to clamp down to keep from bursting through the surface and muddying the reality of what he's doing.

His journey cannot involve her no matter what. He's not ready to be with her in any capacity of the words. Perhaps never. But he also doesn't want his last—but only for a while, he adamantly tells himself—memory of her to be a frown.

She's been burdened enough where he's involved. So he'll let her see him off with a smile, even if it's only self-gratification.

There is no guilt when he leaves her with his own smile and gratitude and goes on his way.

.

.

The day before his departure, she demanded a spar. He was bleary-eyed squinting at her, in her ninja gears, standing in the damp cold of early morning in front of his door, the flush of her cheeks of strange particular interest to him for a moment before he simply nodded.

She cited professional purposes ("I want to make sure you're in proper conditions for travel, Sasuke-kun.") even though he had already agreed. Even though her reason was crap and made no sense whatsoever.

He wondered if that was the only reason she thought he would accept, even if not believe; and if her request the only one she thought he was least likely to turn down.

He wondered if she was right.

Thanks to her he never had to find out. He only had to hurry and leave for the training ground with her, knowing Naruto would appear soon after, demanding the same of him. But not for the same reason. (Whatever that might have been.)

.

.

He helps people during his travel, but otherwise generally stays away from them. It's for both his and their good.

More for his.

People ask too many questions, and even the simplest ones dredge up far more than he's willing to deal with.

"Who are you?" they'd ask. "Just a shinobi," he'd answer.

But he's not just a shinobi. Avenger. Missing nin. Akatsuki. Terrorist. War criminal. The list goes on and he cannot in good conscience cross off any one of the items. Those personas, damned as they are, are still a part of him, and if he closes his eyes, he can recall them all in sickeningly vivid details.

"What's your name?" they'd ask. "Uchiha Sasuke," he'd tell them.

And then it's a coin toss on whether recognition and fear flit past their expressions. For the first few times, he's even considered using an alias, but that would have been such a meaningless thing to do in a journey of redemption.

And cowardly.

He's done with running away.

Or so he tells himself.

.

.

It's a calm, sunny day when he stops at a dango stand in a village near the border between Fire and Rain. The decorative flags caught his eyes, he supposes, but he still can't quite pinpoint what has possessed him to purchase a stick of dango for himself.

Itachi loved these (his chest tightens the way it does whenever he's reminded that he can only refer to his brother in past tense), and maybe that's it. But then what?

He isn't one to waste food (though it's debatable whether this is 'food') so he brings it to his mouth and slides the first ball of dango from the skewer.

And he flinches, not from the taste but from the smile that flashes through the front of his mind, innocent and genuine.

His throat runs dry. Too sweet. He makes it through the second ball of dango before leaving the rest behind on the table.

.

.

The night before his departure, Naruto finagled him into joining the rest of team 7 for ramen as his farewell party. There wasn't just team 7 at the party.

She was there, of course, with same the dark rings beneath her eyes that he'd noticed rather belatedly during their spar in the morning. Those hadn't kept her from giving him a few bruises and grazes, but he'd be a little less bothered by them if she hadn't also healed him up afterwards.

("But you don't like the hospital, Sasuke-kun.")

She was out like a candle before they even got to the main course.

Being enthusiastic neither for the people nor the ramen, he jumped at the opportunity and volunteered to take her home.

As he left the shop with her, Naruto called after him not to try anything funny and the table erupted into laughter and catcalls. He did not dignify any of that with a response.

She was completely malleable in his arms (Susanoo), her warm breaths seeping into the chest of his shirt, and he didn't dash through the air and over the roofs of civilian houses to get to the shinobi side of the residential district.

Abrupt movements could wake her, and she would fight to stay awake again.

Susanoo used enough chakra already and he needed to be conservative for tomorrow.

Reasoning ironed out, he took a leisure stroll to her apartment, occasionally glancing down to ensure her eyes remained peacefully closed.

.

He supposes he did attempt something funny that night. He called upon his Sharingan and committed to memory things that rightfully should be of no consequence to him.

.

.

He enjoys the long stretches of solitude in his travel, even if his voice will croak from disuse once he hits civilization again.

He likes forests best, especially after rain. The musk of earth and tree sap reminds him that clean air exists, and there is no curious gaze on his Rinnegan, no whispering except for the rivers and trees.

A heavy flapping of feathers reaches his ears, and he holds out his arm to receive the messenger falcon.

Letters from his team.

Naruto rambles, illegible at places, about everything and anything that has happened and then some more; and Kakashi includes some personal postscripts after a mission briefing.

He reads hers last, after feeding the bird and sending it away.

He's forgotten if he was the type to save the best or worst for last.

It's the first time she's written to him, and she's surprisingly succinct. Perhaps reserved. A greeting. Comment on the weather. Well-wishing. Her name. And that was all.

But against all logic, he felt her longing for him.

He isn't sure if it's the way the ink seems to tremble at certain strokes, or how the creases where the paper was folded adds a depth to the spaces she's left between the sentences, that seem to be filled with unspoken sentiments. Or if it's just his inflated ego.

He burns every letter he receives, as the information might get into the wrong hands, but can't bring himself to do the same for hers.

Fortunate, then, that she's written nothing that would be of interest to anyone.

(But him.)

.

.

The feeling of her eyes on him was calming, almost spiritual, like a brush of warm smoke at the back of his neck, downy feathers on his skin. He could have pretended sleep forever if she wasn't likely to figure him out the longer he kept up the charade.

.

.

It occurs to him one night, looking out the dirty window of an inn, that he has no idea who he is, if not war criminal, not terrorist or Akatsuki or missing nin; if not an avenger.

He's certainly no hero.

The more people he helps, the less he feels himself. There's a disconnect between what he's doing and what he knows himself to be. More often than not, he'd ask himself—what would Naruto do? What would Sakura do? What would Kakashi do? What would Itachi do—have done? (Damnitdamnitdamnit.)

And whatever he'd think they would do he'd do just that. It makes for surprisingly simple problem-solving.

But at his core he's not selfless like Itachi. Not faithful like Naruto. Not loyal like Kakashi. Not kind like Sakura.

At the end of the day, he still doesn't know what he would do.

He scarcely acknowledges it, but he keeps chasing after the back of these great people. He's running himself ragged trying to catch up, but he's so aggravatingly slow that it's a wonder he hasn't lost sight of them all.

He fears it's only a matter of time. And then he will once again be lost and directionless.

He's Uchiha Sasuke, and he no longer knows what that means.

.

.

"Oniichan, you suck." This statement is followed by chattering agreements of the other kids crowding around him on the dirt floor of the orphanage.

Children are vicious creatures, he's beginning to learn. He struggles to recall if he was ever this much trouble to Itachi as a kid. They are also incredibly unhygienic, and they incessantly tug at his clothes and hair, poke at the stub of his arm with such disregard that he almost misses the fangirl treatment from way back when in the village.

By the fifth time that they make him redo the voice for the rabbit-dog-cat-looking thing in the story, he's teeteringly close to setting Amaterasu-fire to the worn book in his lap.

His rescue comes in the form of the old matron appearing in the doorway announcing dinner. The children abandon him like one would a sinking ship.

"Thank you for playing with them, Uchiha-san."

He nods noncommittally as he receives his own bowl of food from one of the older kids. It was hardly his choice when the little ones ensnared him within their circle of skin and bones, threatening to cry if he didn't comply, so he thinks her gratitude is therefore unneeded.

None of these is needed. The feeding him, the lodging. He's only sticking around for at most a few more days to take care of the group of mountain bandits that has been harassing the orphanage. He would have been fine setting up camp nearby and not having to deal with the children growing attached (because he knows they will), but the matron insisted.

He's always had this inexplicable soft spot for the elderly, and he wonders if it's not in parts due to the fact that so few in his world get to be old and grey.

.

.

 "So Little Piggy went to ask Mommy Pig."

The matron's lilting voice floats to his ear as he perches atop the roof of the orphanage, miles and miles of moonlit forest spanning out before him.

 "'What is happiness, Mommy?'"

 "'It's your tail, sweetie,' said Mommy Pig, and Little Piggy looked at her wiggling tail."

For the longest time, he's had an idea of what happiness should be.

It was the firmness of Itachi's back. His mother's warm meals, and his father's approving grunts. It was a compound brimming with powerful chakras, and memories of children play-training in the clan's private training grounds; and red tomatoes getting snuck out of his mother's garden.

 "Little Piggy looked at her tail and began to chase it around in circles until she was out of breath. But no matter how hard she tried she couldn't catch it at all!"

Happiness was home, when home wasn't yet piles of bodies and dark corridors and slipping on cold blood.

He has no idea what happiness would look like now.

 "'Mommy, how can I ever catch happiness?" asked Little Piggy."

 "'Well, sweetie, your tail will always be there. Why don't you keep walking and let happiness follow you?'"

He closes his eyes and taps into the warm hum of collective chakra inside the orphanage, the tiny sparks flickering dimmer and dimmer as sleep slowly claims the children.

 "And so Little Piggy listened to her mother. She walked forward without worry, for she knew her happiness is always wiggling right behind her. The end."

"Goodnight, my dears."

Matron closes the book and gets up from her squeaky chair to stand by the window right beneath where he is, likely to stare out into the forest.

"Goodnight, Uchiha-san."

If he didn't have his shinobi hearing he never would have caught the whispered words.

He's turned the bandits in to the authorities and said all goodbyes in the afternoon. She doesn't know he's there, and he's all the more puzzled.

He stands guard for the rest of the night and silently slips away from the orphanage's grounds at the break of dawn.

.

.

The weather in Tea is shifting into spring when he arrives at its border. After a few days of travelling in silence, he stumbles upon a cherry blossom tree that has flowered early, its cloud-like plumage colourful in a sea of solemn green; low-hanging branches swaying in invitation.

He tells himself it's as good a resting spot as any, and feels a decided sense of betrayal that the spilling flowers don't smell the way he thinks they should.

.

.

A letter arrives suddenly, informing him of her kidnapping, and he doesn't remember another time that he's been more desperate. She's not someone who'd just let herself be taken, and he fears the worst.

Her letters that he's saved in his pocket weigh like a ball of lead near his heart. He's running as if his life's at stakes. Perhaps it is. For the first time since getting the Rinnegan, he wishes he knew how to control it better.

Then, watching her take down her captors, he learns these:

She's grown so much, has come so far from that little girl she once was and no longer needs to be rescued, least of all by him.

He's the very reason why she's been taken in the first place, her weakness, just that kind of toxic existence to her.

After making sure she will be safe, he leaves and doesn't look back.

.

.

Just as she has been born into this life to love him, he must have been born with the sole purpose of bringing her pain.

He only needs all of two weeks in Konoha to have her crying before him again. The weather is grey as if matching the storm in his heart. They're standing in front of that bench where he's left her once upon a time, and he can't say he doesn't notice how history is dangerously close to repeating itself.

Every muscle in his body is coiled for battle, ready to cite the 'maybe' in his promise and gain the slightest semblance of equal moral grounding with her.

She's chewing on her lip in an attempt to bite back her emotions (probably more for his sake than hers. She needs to stop making things easy for him). The tears haven't spilt yet, but they are there, glazing over jewel-like green eyes.

"I thought this time surely—" She cuts herself off when her voice cracks and chews on her lips some more, breaking eye-contact. "What went wrong, Sasuke-kun?"

.

 Before he could stop himself, he'd already slapped her hand away, shouting at her not to touch him.

She simply smiled, like a mother dealing with the tantrum of a child, and calmly finished changing his bandages while guilt still had him in its vice.

.

He went wrong, but what else was new? With her, he's both a madman and a smitten fool, angry and frustrated and thankful and disgusted and confused and elated and most of all scared. Terrified.

The way she hugs herself and seems to be on the brink of falling apart is nauseating to look at. He's getting worked up over what was supposed to be a simple goodbye. But that's the problem, isn't it? Nothing's ever simple when she's involved.

"You know that this is your home, right? You've never needed to earn any right to stay in it."

"…I know."

She raises a doubtful eyebrow. "Do you?"

.

It had taken him two years and countless good deeds to finally find the resolve to forgive himself and return to Konoha as someone he thought would be worthy of his friends.

Yet all it took was one smile from her to undo all the confidence that he'd built up like it was a house of cards. He realized immediately that no amount of atonement would ever redeem him enough to be worthy of her.

"Welcome home, Sasuke-kun."

 And the worst part was that he wanted to stay regardless.

.

"Don't be annoying, Sakura." And he can see her visibly shrink back like she's been hit. He might as well have. His fist curls at his side, itching to do something just to stop her from further torturing her steadily swelling lip.

Instead of leaving him alone as he expects her to (and how senseless it is to keep expecting something that will never happen), she steps forward and grabs gingerly onto his mantle.

"Are you…unsatisfied in Konoha? With m—with us?"

He doesn't respond, and she seems to take his silence as agreement and starts to cry in true. Big, fat droplets roll down her cheeks as she matches his gaze. The raw hurt in her eyes startles him.

"What will make you happy, Sasuke-kun?" She tightens her grip, pulling him infinitesimally closer, choking on her words. "Please, please tell me how I can make you happy."

"That's not your problem." That's apparently also a wrong thing to say. She looks resigned now, and the sight somehow claws at him even more. The wind picks up suddenly, nearly drowning out her next words.

"Do you even want to be happy?"

He thinks for a length and honestly cannot say for certain he does. He can hardly picture what his happiness would be now that the old one is so drenched in blood, and misery is a lot harder to take away from a person.

It's ironic, then – or perhaps apt – that he would chase after something he doesn't really want. Because he's full of greed and self-gratification.

She once again takes his silence into her own narrative and lets out a long sigh. Meeting his gaze again, her eyes are already dry, red-rimmed, beseeching. Her voice is but a whisper.

"Is there something you want, Sasuke-kun? Anything?"

If she puts it that way, he wants a lot of things, as a greedy man should. Full control over the Rinnegan. Restore his clan. A tomato garden. Her. To name a few.

But he looks at her, her red eyes and tear-stained cheeks and bruised lip, and sees that she is all wrong compared to everything he's etched into his memory; and blurts out the single thing that floats up to the forefront of his mind right then.

"I want you to be happy."

It takes her a second to react to his words, her large eyes becoming impossibly larger as her mouth opens only to close again. He's not sure why she's so surprised. Of course, he wishes her happiness, even if that will be independent of his own.

A million emotions seem to flicker past her expression in a second, of which he only identifies disbelief, suspicion, melancholy and finally exasperation before she inexplicably bursts into a short fit of giggles. She lets go of his mantle and, before he can miss the anchoring hold, reaches for his tight fist and brings it up between her palms, squeezing.

"I can do that."

She's smiling that smile that unravels him to his core again, her eyes glittering. And he can blame his carnal desires for overriding all of his faculty, but he finds himself ensorceled.

"How about we work on it together, Sasuke-kun?"

His chest is strangely free of heaviness as he uncurls his fingers, almost in a daze, and encases her callused yet delicate ones.

"Hn."

.

.

A few days before his departure, he asks if she would come with him and she agrees easily, if not a little exasperatedly that he'd waited so long to ask, and he's mystified as to why he's stayed up all night worrying that she wouldn't.

.

.

Three months into their journey together, a newly formed part of him is startlingly assured that she will always have his back, and nothing—nothing can ever change that.

.

It takes a while longer, but the day finally comes that he figures it out.

He's Uchiha Sasuke, and he means everything to Uchiha Sakura.

—

Notes: I do not own the children story.

[regrettablewritings]

I, u, y for bodhi rook please!

As the words process in my mind, a tear rolls upon my cheek . . .

Could it be? I dare wonder. An lo: It is.

He has returned, after so far away in time . . .

I = Impression (What was their first impression?):

Well, he certainly wasn’t what you had expected, that was for sure. Defecting from the Empire was no easy feat, even for somebody as unassuming as a delivery pilot. To the enemy, every literal body counted — even if only to assure complete dominance over the individual. So when you had learned that one of their own had not only detected, but potentially played key in helping to locate Galen Erso?

You couldn’t help it: Your imagination went wild. You imagined someone big and strong, teeth gritting from years of pent up anger towards the unjust causes of the tyranny spreading across the galaxy.

What you got was a scrawny, sheepish, possibly traumatized (thanks, Saw, you absolute nerf-herder) slip of a man who seemed to be afraid of taking up any space he happened to exist in. It was...disappointing to say the least. But you had to commend him regardless for defecting and even surviving Saw, and there was no gain in looking down on him.  

And then came the Scarif mission.

Nobody had expected him to go -- well, nobody was excpected to go, given that the Alliance Council turned down Erso’s idea, but least of all you expected him to be willing to go and do it. You expected the blind guy to go sailing off to a certified death mission before you did this guy! And honestly, that had you worried for him. Unfulfilled expectations or not, he wasn’t someone who had incurred your ire or even your indifference; you may not have gotten the chance to actually know him beyond a few words exchanged during the very brief time he’d been on base (“Welcome to the right side.” “Uh, y-yes . . . Thank you . . .”), but he certainly didn’t strike you as someone who needed to go on this type of outing. Enough people died unnecessarily in this damned war . . .

To learn, eventually, that he wasn’t one of them was therefore all the more shocking to you.

While the mission to steal the Death Star blueprints had been successful, it clearly didn’t come easy. Everyone who had survived had been wounded to some degree, with Captain Andor appearing to receive the worst of it as he was carted off to the infirmary. Bodhi, to your relief, wasn’t especially harmed. Roughed up, certainly, and clearly shaken from the experience, but that didn’t change what you now knew for certain: Bodhi Rook, this timid bean pole of a defector, was one of the bravest men you had the pleasure of knowing existed.

Even though he apparently was intimidated by you when you two first met. Granted, everyone intimidated him: He had just went AWOL with the government he’d been employed by, he was “taken in” by people whom he’d been taught by propaganda to fear and be distrustful in, he was still trying to regain his frazzled sanity after being interrogated by that . . . that thing, and he’d just witnessed his home get bombed. Needless to say, the anxious-by-nature man was simply not in an especially welcoming mood.

Still, he tried to be civilized (maybe because he feared getting beat up if he didn’t). He wasn’t sure what to say in response to your, er, “greeting” when you hustled up war-battered clothes besides an awkward thank you. He really wasn’t sure what to make of you that would separate you from his overall feelings towards nearly everyone in this whole operation: You were strong, you had been through enough and were surely hardened by it, and you could probably snap his spine over your knew if you particularly cared to.

Of course, he’d spent next to no time with you when he thought these things of everyone involved in the Rebellion. He had no time to: He had to fly around the Maker’s galaxy and back! It actually wasn’t until after the Scarif mission that he was given ample time to readily wipe his impressions and assumptions clean. He felt he needed to, given what dedication he’d seen on those beaches.

Besides, you approaching him afterward certainly helped. You picked up that he wasn’t fond of crowds during evening mess when he quietly slinked away from the group gathering to hear retellings of the infiltration on Scarif. You figured perhaps a one-on-one situation might’ve sufficed. Better yet, inquiring about his current state might’ve been preferable to reliving the experience.

He appreciated the gesture on your part. Maybe . . . you weren’t nearly as ice-cold as he’d thought you were. At the very least, definitely not as bad as Cassian.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?):

Bodhi is a naturally anxious person, and the hardships and experiences he’s encountered haven’t exactly made that any better. Sure, he’s a lot braver now and more willing to act, but he’s still nowhere near as gung-ho or fiery as his companions.

He’s had some methods in the past that clearly didn’t work out in his favor (fun fact: he’s got a record for gambling), but one of the best tried and trues is simply going somewhere quiet. His thoughts are in a constant buzz, he benefits from a lack of outside stimuli when he feels overwhelmed. The problem is . . . quiet is so very hard to find when you’re in the middle of a war. As an Imperial cargo pilot, you could just plain forget about the idea of having time to yourself: You belong to the Empire, your time is the Empire’s time and you are in no position to use it up.

Being a part of the Rebellion is better by legions, but the base on Yavin IV leaves much to be desired in terms of privacy and quiet. Luckily, the planet is lush and forested: If Bodhi is on base and feels the need to sit in the quiet and gather his thoughts and calm down, he need only walk in any given direction, find a tree to sit under, and just stay there for a while. The places he chooses are far enough to where he can relax and not have his thoughts and heartbeat disturbed by the banging of machinery or the hollers of drill sergeants, but never so far as to be unable to get help should he need it.

It wasn’t long before he began to incorporate you into these relaxation methods, however. As it turns out, as much as he may enjoy being able to sit by himself in the brush, he very much likes being able to sit with you anywhere. You’re almost like a walking calming center for him, especially when you touch him: Hold his hand, rub his back, let him lay his head on your lap so you can play with his hair . . . It’s like a missing link he never knew he’d been missing to begin with! They’re seemingly small things, but they make a big difference. You can always feel him losing his tension beneath your touch, often announced by quiet sighs or tiny shudders. It’s truly the cutest thing and you’re so glad to be the cause of it and help him calm down. Just not nearly as glad as he is to have you there to calm him.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?):

The thought of marriage has switched on and off throughout Bodhi’s life; really, it depends on the exact moment. As a child, he certainly thought about it more, if only because children are want to do such things. But as an adult, it begins to falter. By the time the events of the story show up, he can go long stretches without even once thinking about his stance on whether or not he should get married. Because really, it’s more based on the exact moment: If he’s in a surprisingly good way or even in a moment where he must think about how short life can be, the certainly he gives it some thought.

But in his usual misery and anxiety while serving the Empire, such silly concerns are the furthest thing from his mind; they’re so far on the back burner that they may as well have fallen behind the stove, forgotten, dusty, and moldy!

Even when he meets you, the thought surprisingly doesn’t come up for a while. It’s not that you don’t make him happy or inspire any intention of long-term romance -- far from it, actually! You make him feel the happiest and most comfortable than he’s felt in literal years! In fact, that’s honestly probably why the subject of marriage doesn’t pop up to him so immediately: His life as of late has become a bit of a balancing act, what with him now being a part of a rebellion he hadn’t planned on joining and, consequentially, trying not to get him or his new comrades killed. Normally, this sort of thing would’ve sent him into a panic-induced coma. But with you present in his life, giving him a sense of calm and someone to fight hard enough to come back to, you actually make him start to enjoy the present. (Well, the calmer ones, at least.)

He’s not as caught up about the past or afraid of the future as he used to be; he’s actually enjoying the moment with you as is. Sure, every now and again, if he does (or doesn’t) mean to think about it, his mind does slip and he finds himself thinking, “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind being with them after all this . . .” He even dares to dream about the two of you sharing a life together on a nice, simple planet with lots of trees and greenery. Maybe somewhere quiet. A farm might be nice: He can so some gardening there and you two can build a house together, all big and roomy like you’d always wanted instead of cramped and stuffy like the living quarters you always complained about . . .

But then his attention would be dragged elsewhere (to a meeting, to training, to you calling him to join you for dinner). He doesn’t mind. He’s not brushing aside the possibilities of proposing to you and marrying you, but the dreams can wait: All in all, you’re here right now and he’s perfectly content being there with you. For now.

Thank you for asking and for being patient!

[hvandenbrg]

Have you seen HARRY VANDENBERG? This THIRTY-SEVEN year old is a TROPHY HUSBAND who resides in MANHATTAN. HE has been living in NYC for TWO YEARS, and is known to be EMPATHETIC and PROTECTIVE but can also be RECKLESS and VOLATILE, if you cross them.  People tend to associate them with EXTREME SPORTS and GREEN SMOOTHIES.

I’M BACK BABEYYYY. i bet y’all thought you’d seen the last of me!! but... here i am! harry’s bio has changed a little bit so feel free to check it out if you want! other than that i am excited to be back and happy to be able to write with you all again! 

thank you so much for all the support and the patience you’ve given me these past few months. y’all are the best, and i love you with all my heart. 

about —

full name: harry bram vandenberg age: 37 birthday: august 9, 1983 (leo) sexual orientation: heterosexual gender: cis male pronouns: he/his

bio — tw: injury, infertility, cheating, pregnancy

harry has a younger brother and a half sister. his parents divorced when he was young, his father re-married and had one more kid, a girl. there was no drama between his parents, though… at least as far as the children could tell. they were civil in front of them, which is what mattered. harry and his siblings have always been friendly, even if the youngest wasn’t around as often — mostly because his mother didn’t want her around the house much. understandable, yes, but harry and his brother still managed to spend an ungodly amount of time with her growing up.

he was born in brighton, england (his parents were on a ‘last vacation before the baby comes’, and he just happened to be born during said vacation) but was raised in london. besides the abnormal family dynamic, harry had a decent experience growing up. decent in the sense that he often got himself in trouble for staying out too late, getting into fights — because he liked it. not that he was a bad kid, but he had an issue with constant boredom, which he learned to let out in strange ways such as those. in his teens, he decided to skip sixth form and join the british army as an infantry soldier.

still young and lacking tons of experience with real life, harry started a relationship with his neighbor — the girl who’d been his best friend ever since she’d moved next door. truthfully, as his mother had once said, it was only a matter of time until they started a relationship. and harry’s embarrassed protests eventually led to their marriage a year later.

it was a good marriage. they got along pretty well and loved each other pretty much. they had a flat in london where they lived. however, things began to get complicated when harry was deployed to afghanistan for a year, and after a lot of rigorous training, he got selected to join the special reconnaissance regiment — a promotion that posed a legitimate threat on his life. and this, in turn, gave harry the excitement and glee of a child with a new puppy. his wife, however, did not like this at all, and understandably so. his oncoming deployments back to afghanistan and siria really put a strain in their relationship, especially with how excited he always looked when he left, and so unenthused when he returned. this attitude of his sparked many arguments between the couple, which soon after escalated into cheating accusations, which harry both denied and ignored, for as long as he could.

INJURY TW. during a deployment to siria, harry received a bullet to the leg — during his adrenaline rush afterwards, harry kept going by foot, which ended up in a twisted knee and a ligament tear. despite many protests from the man, he had to be sent home and later on discharged from his role in the regiment, and the military altogether.

as the ‘glass half-full’ kind of person that harry’s always been, he tried to look at this sudden change in his life as an opportunity to reunite with his wife, fix his marriage. it seemed to work for the first few weeks as it was her who had to drive him to things such as rehab and therapy. but after a while, he began to realize that the two of them had very little in common anymore — and it was heartbreaking. after being a unit for the majority of his life, he suddenly couldn’t connect with his love anymore.

not to mention that, despite the fact he couldn’t do much for a while, the cheating accusations never stopped coming, even if they were slower and farther in between — he was always on his phone too much, it seemed. 

INFERTILITY TW. so of course the solution was to expand the family! of course. what else could prove that he was loyal to his wife and save his marriage all at once? a child! it hadn’t been his idea, but he agreed. harry was personally terrified of fatherhood. being in charge of your own body is one thing, but being responsible of a completely new human being seemed like a nightmare to the man — but but his wife, he would do it. so they tried — and failed. and tried, and tried, and tried, and kept failing. harry had fully healed from his injury when they decided to maybe see a doctor about it, maybe said injury had done something to harry’s ability to procreate. but it turned out it wasn’t him — and the news devastated the woman. a product of grief and frustration, their relationship only kept on crumbling.

once he was back on comission, harry landed a security job in london with the royal family. it paid well and allowed for the couple to do more things together, things to keep them distracted from the state of their relationship. this glee, however, didn’t last very long; a year into his new job the accusations of cheating began again. now, according to her, he was cheating with diplomats and princesses and so on, so forth. he couldn’t stand it anymore.

CHEATING TW, PREGNANCY TW. sooner than later, something in harry snapped, and he decided to give his wife what she so desperately wanted. she wanted him to be a cheater, so he became one. it started with one of the maids in the palace, then a nanny, then a personal assistant. and sooner than later, he found out he had accidentally gotten someone pregnant. that, for harry, was the signal he’d been looking for. he confronted his wife with the truth, and in what seemed like a minute, she filed for divorce immediately, citing “irreconcilable differences” as the cause. to harry’s luck, it seemed that the other woman in question was either hiding from him or didn’t want him to be a part of the process, which harry respected. he had to, as he had no way of reaching out to her. he met his child the day they were born, and has helped with everything he was allowed to from a distance. after all, with the job he had, he barely had time for himself anymore.

these issues with the job made harry’s time at the palace somewhat difficult, but things stabilized once he was assigned to be princess cecelia’s husband’s bodyguard. harry had never liked cecelia. she seemed spoiled, air-headed. and the things her husband said about her only fueled these thoughts. however, said thoughts went away as he spent more time with the couple, and some, erm, tension built between him and the princess — which ended up exploding into a full-fledged affair. an affair that went way further than harry expected it to; he wasn’t expecting to fall in love with her, with her children, and just… anything that involved cecelia.

PREGNANCY TW. so when she came to him with the news — she was pregnant. with his child. his divorce wasn’t even finalized, but he did not care. it was just a matter of time, right?

when cecelia decided to move to new york following the divorce, harry knew he had to go with her. he requested to be assigned as her bodyguard for the move, which was granted. their secret was safe, and he would be able to move with her.

then it came to revealing their relationship and his paternity to the public — harry knew he was in a proverbial pickle. he had to get his divorce settled and secure a new job before the baby was born. the divorce part was the hardest of both, but it was resolved in the end. job-wise, harry needed to find a new job before the truth came out, as he wouldn’t last long in the United States without one, as a holder of a work visa. thankfully, the birth of his son would help his case and make it easier for him to live in the country. he received diplomatic help, as well as having his professional record speak for him, and he somehow made his way to the nypd’s emergency unit service, where he worked for only a few months before he was terminated for the public attention harry seemed to bring to the department. 

PREGNANCY TW. cecelia told him they were expecting their second child together. he’s of course very happy, although not completely sure about how he feels about not being able to give theo his full attention — and extremely nervous about fathering a girl. the reason seems questionable even to him, as he’s raised penny (for the most part). just seems scary to have a baby so small again.

headcanons —

harry loves extreme sports and combat sports. rock-climbing is a big passion of his, boxing a close second.

he loves portraying himself as a MANLY MAN but ya boy cried at the end of toy story 3. he also cried when his son, theo, was born.

speaking of theo, henry was terrified of becoming a father. but he got some practice with jack and penny, so he thought he was out of the woods. tiny humans? easy! however, he was not expecting just how difficult caring for a miniature human would be. he still loves it, though. theo is his pride and joy.

he owns a collection of little trinkets he got from his different deployments, all in a shoebox. get a scrapbook, ya fool.

while he is slightly apprehensive about the baby, he was the same about theo, it really is only a matter of time until he warms up to the idea of being a father for the second time. what a move for a dude who didn’t want kids in the first place !

but also, scratch all that he’s married to @olliestonem​ :-)

[nobelmemories]

                 More Nobel Memories

                 Along The Nobel Road

                                   Part XI

           Some time has passed since I last contributed any stories or memories for your enjoyment. Recent articles I have read have encouraged me to do so. It must be remembered that my memories are mine and although they might not be totally accurate they are as I remember and perceive them.

           I always have to laugh when I think of my mother’s stories. One thing I always believed was that my mother would not lie. However? She lived to be a month short of 95 years and chose to leave on her terms. In her mind, people had started living forever, and she didn’t like it.  She did not retire from nursing until she was 69 yrs. In her later years she did a lot of travelling. She travelled to England where she was born and visited Buckingham Palace and seen the changing of the guard. She also went to Rome and visited the Vatican square and seen the Pope address his flock from his balcony. She travelled to many other countries as well. I remember one day, after retiring she told me she would really like to travel but did not want to spend her money. My reply to her was: No don’t travel, save your money because when you pass Deane and I are going to have a ball. For some reason she started travelling shortly afterwards. The stories kind of changed in the last year or so of her life. She had particular stories that would be triggered by the time of day of some other daily event. The story about visiting Buckingham Palace became when I met the Queen. The trip to Rome involved an audience with the Pope. Now I have long realized that this is normal and happens as we age and when we change the story slightly this is just normal. It is real and true in this storyteller’s mind. So be forewarned. I will be 85 years in just a few months.

                                    Champlain’s Cup

            Both Nobel and Parry Sound lie within McDougall Township. There are so many historical things that have happened here that we are all part of. One story that my dad first told me about involved the Little family who had a farm in McDougall Township off the Hurdville Road. There are many of their descendants living in McDougall and Mckellar and Carling Townships to this day. The old Little farm was located on Trout Lake. It was part of the old Portage Trails the Natives travelled to and from the Georgian Bay and up the Seguin River System. The story as first told to me by my father was that the Little’s had been clearing land when they discovered a cup in the roots of an upturned tree. He referred to the cup as Champlain’s Cup. In years since then I have been told that Nathaniel Little found the cup in 1870, 23 years before my dad was born. It was in the roots of an up-turned tree. It actually was a bronze French apothecary’s mortar weighing 16 Kg. It bore the date 1636. It would appear that the Mortar was left by some travellers, however I think we can pretty easily rule out Samuel Champlain as he lived between August 17,1567 and December 25, 1635.

            It has never been established for sure, just where this Mortar came from, however the following theories have been suggested. The old explorers were known to leave a marker when they discovered a new place or country. The idea was that they could say they were there and could prove it by telling what they had left and where to find it. Such was the case when the astronauts landed on the moon and left the American Flag. As most people realize a mortar and pestle are used to make medicine. There is a mineral in the area that the natives use to grind up and make an ointment to treat skin disease. They passed on many of their secrets to the missionaries. The Missionaries from the Midland area were known to travel up and down the Georgian Bay exploring. One of these persons was a donne’ (a support person to the missionaries), he was a medical doctor from France. His name was Francois Gendron.

The theory was that he either took the mortar with him when he was exploring or retreating from the Iroquois and placed it where it was found.  It is also a known that Father Bre’beuf travelled this area in 1645 and visited an area called Tangouaen, which means “In site of the falls or rapids. The place where the mortar was found was on a portage around a waterfalls.  NOTE: The forgoing theory was copied from the Internet.

            It is said that the Mortar was subsequently purchased from Nathaniel  Little by William Beatty who kept it in their company vault. The Beatty family subsequently placed the mortar in the Canadian Museum of Civilization, across the river from Ottawa. This is a little bit of local history that kind of affects all of us. If you are not a Little and have been in the area any length of time you at least know a Little.

                                          The Lumsden’s

            James Lumsden was one of the original homesteaders to the Township of McDougall. If one looks at the Guide Book & Atlas of Muskoka and Parry Sound Districts dated 1879 and the maps produced by J. Rogers. You will see that most township maps are laid out having an approximate ¼ mile width, in the Township of McDougall. Those along the shore of Georgian Bay have a broken frontage and are laid out having the length in an East West direction. What became the Lumsden Farm consisted of Lots 3,4,5,6 Concession A. Lot No. 3 bears the name D.L.Corbiere, Lot 4 J. Lumsden, Lot 5 D.E. Corbiere, Lot 6 Jas. Lumsden. The abutting lots to the east run with the length to the north and south. Lots 28 & 29 Concession IX bears the name George Hunt.  When I was a very young boy Lots 3 to 6 Concession A were mostly owned by Dave Lumsden, James’s son. While lots 28 & 29 were mostly owned by Arthur Wright. There were some small parcels that were sold to people to build their homes on.

           There is a small cemetery located off Nobel Road just to the south side of the Esso property. It is referred to as the Lumsden Cemetery. To get an idea how these Lumsden lots ownership eventually evolved you have to view these markers. One marker was for James Lumsden died February 15,1875 age 63 years Husband of Elizabeth Corbiere. One marker was for Elizabeth Corbiere died September 24,1897 62 years. One marker was James Lumsden son of Elizabeth and James Lumsden died 18 July 1875 age 17 years. There was one marker for Mary E. Wright wife of J.D. Lumsden born 1861 died 1948. There was no marker for J.D. Lumsden however I remember both J.D. (Dave) Lumsden and his wife Elizabeth. Dave was another son of James Lumsden and Elizabeth Corbiere. Just going by my memory, I believe Dave died around the late forties. I think he also is buried in this cemetery. I remember Elizabeth as a small frail lady who had a very kind heart.

            I was told that Elizabeth was a sister to Art Wright who owned the farm at the edge of Portage Lake. Art’s house and farm buildings were located to the east of the side road that ran behind the Esso and Tim Horton’s. This was the original road as shown on the old township of McDougall map. Art’s house was approximately where Gary Barager’s house is now. I have faint memories of Art Wright, as being a small wiry man. I don’t remember his wife, although I know my parents talked kindly about her. Art Wright had three fields that he worked. One was between Nobel Road and the old side road where the Esso and Tim Horton’s and the Motel were later situated. One was to the east of the original side road that ran behind the Municipal buildings and Pineridge Drive. It was parallel to the road on the east side down His third field was behind where Gary Barager’s house was a short road towards the water.

           In about 1932 my Dad, Sid Crawford purchased five acres from Dave Lumsden. This parcel of land was bound by the old Nobel Road, which lies behind the Municipal buildings on the east, Pineridge Drive on the north, the extension road that lined up with Hammel Ave on the west and the present road going into the Township Office. Highway 69 now Nobel Road cut across this property at an angle on the front corner. Dad built the house that is presently occupied by Lemore Johnston in 1932. There was a summer kitchen on the back of our house. (A shed that was used to cook in when we had warm summer weather.) The kitchen stove was wood heated and had one of those warming closets on top and a tank you filled with water on the right side, It was a Findlay.

           I remember the stove well due to a life lesson. One time we were having supper in the dining room. We were served blue berry pie for desert. I think I got it in my head that my brother Deane got a bigger piece of pie than I. At any rate I left the table in anger, stormed out of the house and slammed the door. It was obviously too hard, because the 2’x 2’ glass that was in the upper part of the door kept on going and fell in many pieces all over the kitchen floor.

           Now my mother was the disciplinarian in our house. I think I can count on one hand the number of times my father ever laid a hand on me. This time it was a little different. I heard a loud bellow. GARRY GET BACK IN HERE. I walked back into the house, probably a little sheepishly. I had a smirk on my face. I walked right up to Dad and I guess it was a little too much for him. He hit me on the side of the head with an open hand. I did a flip in the air and ended up on the floor in front of the stove. I was a little shook-up, I looked up and all I could see was FINDLAY, which was stamped below the oven.  (I have attached a photo so you can remember this lesson whenever you see an old wood-burning kitchen stove.) It was about that time I got my wits about me and decided I had better leave for a time. I write this with tongue in cheek and take full responsibility. I have nothing but love for my dad.

           There were two items in that summer kitchen that I remember. One was a coal oil or kerosene stove range. It looked just like the picture I have attached, accept the oil container was clear glass in ours. You would fill the container with oil then turn it upside down into the holder. As you can see there was a little door in the front of the blue chimneys, you would open this door and see a circular wick similar to a lamp wick that you would light. There was a control below the chimney that allowed you to control the wick and thus the heat. I have attached a picture of a stove similar to mothers.

           The second thing I remember being in the summer kitchen was an old galvanized rocker washing machine. Mother would usually put the wood stove on to heat the water for washing. She would take the warm water from the copper boiler on the stove and the boiler in the stove for the washing machine. She used Naptha soap, anything that was particularly stained; she would first give a little scrubbing on the washboard. Then put it in the rocker washer. She had a square of bluing that she quite often put in with the white clothes and sometimes boiled them in the copper boiler. Coloured clothes were done separate to whites. Then the handle was rocked until she felt the clothes were well washed. We had an old hand pump in the kitchen from which mother would get the water, pumping it in from the well in our field. She had a stand, which she would put beside the rocker washer and put a large round galvanized tub on. This would be filled with cold water. Once the washing in the rocker washing machine was complete, she would put the clothes through a wooden wringer that attached to the side of the rocker and dropped the clothes into the tub of cold water. They were then rinsed, put back through the wringer again and were ready to be hung on the line. The clothes line was out behind our woodshed and had a 4’ stand she would climb up on. She still liked to use that in the summer time when she was in her 80’s. In the early years she had clothespins that were made out of a single piece of wood, but she eventually had the modern clothespins with a spring in them. I have attached a picture of a rocker washing machine similar to mothers.

           Around 1946 father and mother decided to put an addition on the back of the house to replace the summer kitchen. Dad had been a teamster prior to his marriage. He had started working in the logging camps when he was 14 and had made at least ten seasonal trips out west on the Harvest Train. He loved horses and was a friend of Dave Lumsden who had a couple of teams of horses. Dad would quite often look after these animals. He borrowed one of Dave Lumsden’s teams and a scraper. I have a very clear memory of his digging out a hole for the basement of that addition. I have found a picture of a horse drawn scraper that was similar to the one Dad used and have attached it. The one in the picture is missing the handles, which would be in the round tubes you can see in the picture. The teamster would have the reins to the horses crossed behind his neck, one hand controlling each of the handles. He would have the horses move forward with audio messages. Gidup, ( I don’t remember ever hearing get up.) haw or gee, being left or right. He would lift on the handles causing the scraper to dig in and fill the scrapper. He would then push back down on the handles as they moved forward stopping the scrapper from digging in. The horses would move forward or out of the hole where the teamster would give a lift upwards on the handles causing the scrapper to dig in, flip and dump the load of earth. The teamster would then drive the team around in a circle and take the next load of earth out. Dad eventually completed pouring the basement walls and floor. He was raised on a farm in Hurdville and was a rough carpenter. Dad then proceeded to build a story and a half addition that matched the front part of the house. I remember I was around ten that year. I was helping Dad put the shingles on the roof. The second story had a hip type roof at the ceiling line of the first floor, then a vertical wall and the main roof about four feet above that. I was laying shingles on the top roof and Dad was finishing up the hip about a 4’ drop below me. I suddenly started to slide, fell off the upper roof down to the roof that Dad was working on. I just had a pair of pants on but no shirt. As I slid past Dad and went over the edge, he reached out quickly and locked his fingers into the soft flesh of my lower side. I continued off the roof and he held on. I remember hanging there squealing like a pig, for a second or so before he lifted me back up to the level he was at. Dad calmed me down and we continued laying the shingles. Dad proceeded to finish the house then built a complete set of kitchen cupboards without any power tools. In later years when I thought back I was always so proud of him, you see he only had grade three education. His father passed when he was very young and he had six siblings. He assumed the father figure and was the last to marry. He was able to earn his third class Stationary Engineer’s papers and obtained a job in the Power House at CIL, where he worked for 24 years.  The biggest regret I have to this day is that I never really expressed to him how very proud I was of what he accomplished in his life. He passed in 1967.

           I have attached a picture of my mother and father’s house as it sits today. I am afraid I got a little carried away on my story and will have to continue my memories of the Lumsden’s in my next submission Part XII.

           Anyone wishing to read my previous submissions can find them at the following URL:  <https://nobelmemories.tumblr.com>

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[bella4rosy]

Record Player

Description: In which Steve Rogers discovers that his neighbor shares his taste for big band/swing music, and she plays him some records of her own. Mildly inspired by the french movie Blind Date. Set between Winter Soldier and Civil War. 

((Contains: Domestic Steve Rogers. Old movie references. The Rat Pack. Bucky taught Steve how to foxtrot. Tony Stark making old man jokes. Tony Stark and Natasha playing matchmaker.))

The first time he heard the music, he thought he was having a stroke. He spent at least five minutes scrambling around his apartment trying to figure out how he was hearing a big band even though his record player was off. He was one more minute away from calling Tony, thinking he was under some kind of attack, before he realized it was coming from a different apartment. 

He wasn’t sure if this revelation confused him more than the mysterious source of the music itself. Not a lot of people listened to the stuff from his time, this he knew. Playing those songs or requesting one or two of them at Tony’s galas had often earned him a mocking joke or two from his teammates. “Old man” or “grandpa” were the most popular, albeit uncreative, nicknames. 

But here he was, hearing one of his favorite albums being played by someone else loud and clear. 

It was coming from behind the bathroom wall. The building had been laid out so that the bathrooms of most units were back to back, meaning tenants shared a bathroom wall. His neighbor had never made much noise before, and he was rarely reminded that there was another person with their own life and routines occurring on the other side of that thin plaster. Until now. 

He racked his brain trying to figure out if his neighbor was someone he’d met before. Maybe in passing in the stairwell, or in the laundry room? Was this a man or a woman? Were they a real neighbor at all? He remembered bitterly the time his neighbor in the last apartment building had turned out to be a Shield agent. Maybe Tony or Sam were playing a joke on him? He briefly considered calling the scientist again. Regardless, whoever this neighbor was, they were familiar with the old soldier’s music taste. 

It was seven in the morning. Tony probably wouldn’t be awake yet, if he’d even gone to bed at all. Steve made coffee and started some housekeeping he’d put off during a mission. 

The neighbor let the whole album play before the music ended. They didn’t replay it afterwards. 

The second time he heard the music there was singing with it. That’s how he found out his neighbor was definitely a woman. A lovely mezzo-soprano voice lilted through layers of orchestra and running water. 

Steve, upon the discovery that (1) his neighbor was female, (2) she could sing beautifully, and (3) she was currently singing in the shower, had the decency to blush like a gentleman. He sat like that on his couch, legs propped up, book in hand, face red as a tomato for six minutes until his gaze could refocus on the printed words in front of him. 

She sang through the whole album, a different yet familiar one this time, continuing after the shower stopped running. When the album was over, there was a brief pause until he heard the door down the hallway open and shut. She was leaving her apartment. 

It was eight in the evening. 

He looked up from his book towards his own front door. It was at that moment that a seconds-long daydream, like something from a Gene Kelly film, played out in Steve’s head. A daydream in which he hopped off his couch with an appropriate degree of urgency, book discarded. He would open his door to see the flash of her hair disappearing down the stairs. He would call after her and ask for her name. He would stop at the top of the stairs and lay eyes on her for the first time, and she would be beautiful, probably dolled up to go out with her own friends. She would look up at him with a dazzling smile and say--

Steve shook himself. His heart was pounding in his chest. The heat returned to his cheeks. What a silly thought. 

The third time, he had started it. He hadn’t been aware she was in her apartment or he wouldn’t have played it so loud. He had spent the day cleaning the apartment and listening to some records of his own. He was up to his elbows in bleach, scrubbing his bathtub when the current album finished in the other room. He wasn’t in a hurry to switch discs. 

It was maybe two minutes before he heard her voice on the other side of the wall. It was distant, like she wasn’t in her bathroom, but rather, deeper in her apartment. She was singing the words to the last song he’d played, unaccompanied. The rhythm was perfect, and she imitated the vocal tone of the time period in a way he didn’t know was possible. When she came across a line or two that she didn’t know, the lyrics faded into light humming. 

Steve realized he had stopped scrubbing to listen better. 

He wondered briefly if she knew how to dance to this kind of music. Evidently, it was something she had an interest in; surely she could have the musicality to dance. Then his thoughts were bombarded by the revolutionary notion that if she couldn’t, he would love to show her how. 

Before the serum, Steve had trouble finding partners to go to dances with. Bucky, of course, had been kind enough to teach him a couple dances anyways, for practice. It wasn’t until after the serum that Steve had been confident enough to actually invite a girl or two onto the floor for a foxtrot. And by the time he went into the ice he wasn’t half bad at it. 

Peggy would have been impressed with it, he thought bittersweetly. 

It had taken him a long time to make peace with the dance he missed with Peggy, but he realized by now that it wouldn’t be fair to deny himself the chance to dance again. Or fall in love again, for that matter. 

Steve’s thoughts came to a halt. 

He had stopped scrubbing a while ago. The singing had stopped too, although he couldn’t place when. 

As confusing as these thoughts and feelings were, when he took up the scrub brush again, Steve wished with unmatched desperation that she would sing some more. 

The fourth time, she was playing an artist he did not recognize at all. The big band style and the songs were the same as the ones the two neighbors had listened to before, but he couldn’t place the singer. This troubled Steve greatly. 

It was practically routine by now. She would play music and sing at seven in the morning, presumably while she got ready for work; and every once in a while, she would do the same in the evening while she got ready for bed or maybe to go out with friends. If Steve was home to hear either, and he usually was, he spent the time in a trance, listening attentively while drawing, reading a book, or drinking his coffee. 

The songs however were typically ones he’d heard before, so this new voice was decidedly not part of the routine. After the fourth or fifth track, the curiosity ate the supersoldier alive, and he picked up his cell phone. 

“Cap-sicle. Are you calling me from your rotary phone? How long did it take you to dial this number?” Tony Stark was relentless. 

“Shut up, I have an important question for you.”

“Is it something you could Google? We’ve shown you Google,” Tony rambled. “Pepper, haven’t we shown Cap Google?” He could hear Tony yelling, aside. 

The phone couldn’t pick up Pepper’s response. There was the sound of a toolbox falling followed by explitory grunts. 

Steve padded closer to the bathroom door, and continued, “Do you know who this is?” 

He held the phone out, microphone first in the hopes that it would pick up the music through the wall. 

It was Pepper who answered, “Oh, that’s Harry Connick Jr. We hosted him at a fundraiser once, I think. He’s wonderful”

“He’s alive?” Steve asked curiously. He didn’t know people alive today still made music like this. 

Steve was scribbling the name into his notebook when the neighbor started to sing again. 

“Oh my god, Cap, is that a girl? Pepper, that’s a girl!” 

Steve’s heart skipped a beat at Tony’s question. He pressed the phone back to his ear and ran as far from the bathroom as he could. Yes, it was a girl. Steve wanted to say, But not one I’ve met. 

Pepper’s voice floated through the phone, “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

“I don’t,” Steve said before hanging up. 

After the fourth time, Tony teased Steve about the music as often as he got the chance. They would be gearing up for a mission, and Tony would ask if Steve needed to play a pump up song and then suggest some sappy track title by The Rat Pack. Natasha caught on the fastest, as did Clint shortly after that. As far as Steve could tell, though, the others on the team didn’t quite know a girl was involved. Tony had enough respect not to let that cat out of the bag yet. But it was only a matter of time.

The mockery and chuckles would die down as soon as they got on-site for their missions, and by then Steve would be pushing any thoughts of thin walls, showers, and record players far from his mind. For the sake of his survival, of course. He couldn’t imagine what would happen in his line of work if he was caught daydreaming. 

It wasn’t until he was on his way back to headquarters that Steve let his mind wander to thoughts of his neighbor’s voice or her showering habits. (Bucky would have elbowed him if he’d heard that thought, either proudly or disapprovingly, depending on the day.) 

It hadn’t taken long for Steve to realize that he looked forward to coming home to the music a little too much; but it was taking longer for him to acknowledge that coming home and hearing her was so relieving to him because it meant they were both safe and sound again. 

That wasn’t a bad thing to look forward to, right?

The fifth time Steve heard the music, Natasha and Tony heard it too. The minute it started, Steve knew he was done for. 

The two avengers had come over to his place, he wasn’t sure what for specifically; maybe they had just been bored since their respective partners were preoccupied with work and thought bothering Steve would be a good use of their time. They were standing in Steve’s living room bickering about some bet Tony had made with Clint the previous weekend, when an enthusiastic, syncopated band intro played audibly from behind The Wall. Natasha and Tony’s words died on their lips as they slowly turned their gazes towards the bathroom doorway. Then, as the lyrics began, they turned their heads perfectly in sync with each other to look at Steve, who (until now) had been turning the pages of a newspaper mindlessly while they argued. 

It was too late to duck behind the pages. Natasha’s critical gaze had already caught the pink undertones overcoming the supersoldier’s cheeks. As embarrassed as Steve was, he was fighting hard to keep a smile off his face at the sound of the voice. 

Tony pointed a hand at the offending Wall, and said, “She’s your neighbor?”

“Is this what you do now?” Natasha asked Steve. “You don’t go on dates, because you have a crush on the record player from the apartment next door?” 

If Steve didn’t know any better, he’d say she sounded offended. 

“You’re dating your neighbor?” Tony asked again, his hand still pointing. 

“We’re not dating,” clarified Steve. “I’ve never even talked to her.” He hadn’t meant for that to slip out. 

Now Tony and Natasha looked even more shocked. 

“You’re joking?” Tony yelled. 

Steve winced. He hoped his neighbor hadn’t heard that. 

Tony started marching towards the front door. Steve leapt off the couch to stop him before he did something Steve would never recover from. 

What ensued in Steve Rogers’ apartment in the next few minutes could only be described as a superhero, sibling-style brawl. The object of the game was simple. Tony and Nat did everything they could to get out the front door to meet the mysterious jazz singer, embarrassing Steve in the process. And Steve did everything he could to stop them. Everything.

He and Tony exchanged kicks and punches. There were some illegal bites and scratches on Romanoff’s part. Headlock, armlock, leglock. Steve tried it all. The coffee table got smashed to bits under Steve’s weight when Nat thought it would be smart to flip him over her shoulder. He was just pulling himself back on his feet when he heard the unmistakable sound of Tony’s Iron Man suit repulsor. Then silence. 

Sure enough, his arm was outstretched, the Iron Man gauntlet encasing his left hand. Steve’s gaze followed the direction of the blast from his position on the floor. 

There was a hole in Steve’s wall. His bathroom wall. Which also meant Tony Stark had just put a hole in his neighbor’s wall. 

Steve’s eyes rolled, and he let his head fall back onto the floor with a thunk. At least the shower isn’t running this time. 

Nat was stepping over debris from the living room fight to the bathroom to peer through the hole, her boots on the floor making the only sound in the two units. The hole was about the size of a teacup saucer and was smouldering at the edges. She straightened up and looked at the boys. 

“Well, you better go apologize, Steve,” the redhead exclaimed, not without smugness. 

“Yeah, Steve, that doesn’t look good,” Tony said, delighted. 

Steve, jabbed the back of Tony’s knee with his elbow. It wasn’t enough to knock him over, but it was enough to make Tony stumble and scowl. 

Steve wasn’t too quick to get back on his feet. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his face felt hot. These nerves reminded him of when he’d asked girls out before the serum, when he’d been nervous because he knew they’d say no. After the serum, it was easier, because he knew they would say yes. Now he was nervous because he didn’t know what his neighbor would say at all. He’d just put a hole through her bathroom wall!

Tony was already in the hallway, gauntlets retracted and concealed. Steve approached the door, as Tony lifted his hand to knock. Steve looked over his shoulder at Natasha who was leaning nonchalantly against his own door frame. 

The door in front of him swung open. 

“Hi,” Tony began, charmingly, “Sorry to bother you, but my friend here has been enamored with your music tastes, and hasn’t had the guts to talk to you.” 

Steve tried to ignore the fact that Tony had just used the word “enamored”, and that the word “taste” made Steve’s eyes drop to the woman’s lips. 

“Sounded like there was a fight,” she said, almost teasingly. Almost. 

“Anyways, I put the hole in your wall, which I can pay for by the way. But it’s all his fault.” Tony gestured plainly to Steve.

There was quietness in the air as the two neighbors laid eyes on each other for the first time. 

The woman’s body language came across as confident but curious. She’d opened the door ready to argue with whoever had done that to her wall, common love for music aside. The fact that it turned out to be Tony Stark hadn’t made her irritation vanish. She did look like she wanted to know more, though. Her arms were at her sides, and her lips were slightly parted, ready to make another teasing quip. 

The woman’s hair was the color of chocolate and dripping water onto the shoulders of her shirt. She had flushed cheeks which were dotted with freckles. Her eyes made Steve’s heartbeat stutter a little bit. They were dark and framed by naturally thick lashes, but they danced the line between being green and blue. He wondered to himself if they ever changed color and decided in that moment that he would love to find out. She was average height and build for a woman in her twenties, which he surmised she was. 

She observed that Steve’s blond hair was slightly mussed from the roughhousing, and there was sawdust stuck to the back and shoulders of his shirt from the shattered coffee table. His hand was rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly, and his complexion was having a hard time hiding his shame. Sure, she’d seen Steve Rogers’ pictures in the news before, but none of the pictures did him justice. He was gorgeous. Despite his nervous body language, he exuded fortitude and strength, and she decided she wouldn’t mind if this neighbor of hers did a little bit of fighting on her behalf sometime. She hoped her breath hadn’t caught too audibly when her eyes met his ocean blue ones. He had the kind of eyes that could give away any emotion she asked them to. 

Steve and the neighbor broke out of their trace when the door down the hall clicked shut. Tony and Natasha were gone, they’d disappeared into Rogers’ apartment. Neither neighbor had even noticed. 

Steve let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “He will fix the hole from the repulsor blast,” he assured her. She gave him a funny look at his vocabulary. 

“I’m Steve.” He offered his hand to her like a gentleman. 

“I’m Rita.” They shook hands. “Can he fix the record player too?” she asked. 

Steve grimaced, and muttered an inaudible “oh no”. 

She left the doorway and came back a minute later with the record player. It was completely mangled from the energy blast, vinyl Harry Connick Jr. album practically fused to it. 

“It was within the line of fire, I guess.” 

“It’s a good thing I have one you can borrow,” Steve quipped, respectfully.

Rita chuckled, and they both looked shyly at their feet. “Won’t you miss it?” she asked. 

His gaze snapped to her face. “I like what I hear from your side better anyways.” The words spilled out before he could stop them, but once they were spoken, he decided he liked her reaction far too much to ever take them back. 

The record player almost slipped out of her hands completely. While she fumbled, he caught it from the bottom with one hand easily. She tried not to notice the way her heart leapt from fleeting fright or the way his arm flexed under the machine. 

“Can I take you out for dinner sometime?” he asked earnestly. 

“To say sorry?” She baited, meeting his eyes. 

“The first time, yes. I would use the dates after that to say other things, if you would have me.”

“Yes.” 

They smiled at each other, as she hefted the defeated record player back into her own arms. 

Just then Tony yelled from Steve’s unit, “Did you do it? Did you ask her?”, followed by a muffled grunt that was undoubtedly from Natasha hitting him on the stomach. 

“Yeah,” Rita and Steve yelled back together. 

“Atta boy,” Nat called proudly through the hole. 

Tony really was going to fix that.

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

Secret Life

*Not My Gif*

Request: Hey can I get a Peter x Strk Reader where she is undercover to watch him and they get really close (if you know what I mean) and then he finds out at liz’s party or homecoming and then calls it off? I love you and your writing is beautiful! Could this be a mini-series?

Requested by: Anonymous

Post Date: 6-21-19

Paring: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark x Daughter!Reader

Word Count: 5.3K

A/N: Sorry I hadn’t posted in a few days, I try to post a request every day. This was one that someone requested like in May, so my bad on the wait. I got a lot of love on my Stark Reader posts so I hope you all like this one as well. Let me know what you think! Also didn’t edit this as much as I’d like, so if there is a mistake then please tell me!

-Ria

~Prompt List~

~Master List~

~Open Requests~

Your eyes were watery and your throat closed up, trying to keep the sobs from falling. You weren’t sure how exactly you got here, sitting on top of a random apartment building in Queens with your legs dangling off the edge, but you knew the moments leading up to this. It all started a few months ago.

— — —

“Hey kid!” Tony yelled as he chucked a stress ball at your head to get your attention. You caught It without even needing to look up already knowing he was going to do that. Finishing the last few sentences on a report you were doing, you glanced up and rolled your eyes at the fake offended look your dad was giving you.

“What’s up?” You smirked. You got up from the couch to head over to him as you crossed your arms waiting for him to continue.

“We got you a mission.” Your eyes brighten at this. You’ve basically been locked up since the whole Civil War issue between your family, which wouldn’t have been a bad thing if you hadn’t basically been in lock up since you moved in with your father. You were 9 when your mom died, leaving you in the care of your only known relative, Tony Stark. He didn’t believe at first that you were his and demanded that several DNA tests were taken, but once it proved you weren’t lying, you were left in Iron Man’s life. Knowing how his enemy’s would want to use you as a target he kept you out of the limelight, no one knew you existed except a few important people as well as the team. You didn’t really mind this at first, thanking the solitude as you adjusted to this new life. You watched as your dad built suit after suit without him knowing you were there, and he never did. Natasha taught you how to fight, just in case someone did find you, you knew how to protect yourself. You got quite good at sneaking around and being a Stark, naturally gifted in the knowledge category, so you took it upon yourself to build a suit. You spent years on it, perfecting it in ways you aren’t even sure really mattered, but when you tested it? Oh that bad boy was amazing! The next time the avengers went out on a mission, you snuck on the jet with them, hiding the best you could so you weren’t seen. It seemed to work because as soon as they landed you joined the fight. Tony just about freaked out until he watched you kick some ass. He was still worried but knew Natasha had you covered in the fighting and apparently you had a greatly made suit. But after the fight was over you got an ear full. But he came around. And you saw yourself joining the team in more and more missions. However, once the accords came into the mix and split your family up, you weren’t allowed on any missions. So now, Tony letting you out was a big deal.

“What’s the mission?”

“Remember the spider guy from Germany? The one I brought in?” You nodded your head waiting for how this involves you. “He’s a kid. Lives in Queens and I want you to shadow him. Make sure he’s not getting himself into anything he shouldn’t. Just watch him from afar. Don’t get involved.”

“You want me to babysit him? Save him from the monsters?” You mocked, dropping your shoulders. There was no way you were going to just watch over some kid from Queens who wants to play hero while you weren’t allowed to. You rolled your eyes and headed over the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water before jumping onto the counter. “Look dad. There’s no way you’re sending me to watch over some kid. What’s so special about him anyways?” You asked hoping that you could find a way to get out of it.

“Well first off Miss Sass, he’s older than you so he’s not a kid. And second, it doesn’t matter why he’s special. You’re going, end of discussion.”

“But dad! I-“

“I said you’re going. Here. It’s a file with everything we have on him. Happy will be here in a hour to pick you up for school.” He said as he chucked a file on the counter next to you. You glanced down at it before pushing it away.

“I’m not going to school. I finished high school 2 years ago, remember?” You said jumping off the counter. You were determined to make this as hard as you could if you had no choice.

“No. Y/N Stark finished High School 2 years ago. Y/N Y/L/N still has a few more years.” He hands you another file with your picture on front. You scoff as you grab it, thumbing through its contents.

“What’s with the files? You couldn’t just tell me this?” You mumble looking back up at him.

He smirked as he grabbed Spider-Man’s file off the counter and put it in your hands with your file. “Where’s the fun in that?” His smirk dropped as his voice became softer, “Look kid, you don’t really have a choice here. I need someone to watch him and you’re the only one who could do it without getting caught. I understand why you don’t want to do this but please, don’t fight me in this?” You locked eyes before nodding slowly, knowing you are going to regret this. You opened Spider-Man’s files, trying to take in as much as you could.

“Peter Parker? Huh. At least he’s cute.”

“Don’t even think about it.”

You stood in front of the school, watching the numerous kids heading in chatting or texting, not even realizing you were there. You sighed as you walked in and scanned the halls for the face you were supposed to watch. When you didn’t see him you gave up, heading towards the office to figure out everything. Pulling out your phone, you opened Peter’s file that you scanned. The loud ringing of the bell earned your attention right before someone ran into you from behind causing you to fall on your butt.

“Uh... sorry.” You mumbled as you grabbed your phone that flew away before looking at the boy you ran into. He stuck his hand out to you and you happily took it, pulling yourself up.

“Oh, it’s my fault. Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. I’m Ned.” He rambled as you chuckled. You extended a hand to him and he shook it.

“I’m Y/N. And yeah, today’s my first day.” You gave him a smile which he returned before he started walking the way you were going. You stared at him shocked at the fact he just walked away before he turned around, raising his brows before indicating you to follow him. You caught up to him laughing a little. “I thought you were just going to walk away. But I didn’t seem like something you would do to someone you just met.”

“Yeah that wouldn’t have been very nice. I was going to walk you to office, help you get used to this place. Is that ok?” He asked as you nodded your head. “Oh! You should eat lunch with us!”

“Us?” You tilted your head looking back at Ned.

“Yeah, Us. Me and my friend Peter. Ok, here you are. Meet me in the lunch room if we don’t have any classes before then!” He started to back away, only allowing you to say a quick ok and thanks before he’s around the corner.

The rest of the day before lunch went by pretty fast, you still hadn’t found Peter and you were getting kind of worried. But when you entered the cafeteria and saw him you felt relieved, until you saw the boy from earlier sitting right next to him waving you down. Peter. He said his friend Peter. Why did that not spark any signs in your head! You silently cursed yourself as you headed over, taking a seat across from Ned.

“This is Y/N. She’s who I told you about earlier. And this is Peter.” Ned said as you and Peter exchanged looks. You couldn’t help but think about how much cuter he was in real life compared to a picture.

“It’s nice to meet you.” He smiled and you could basically feel the butterflies in your stomach, Damn why does he have to be so good looking! The rest of lunch went perfect and afterwards you learned Peter had all the same classes you had after lunch and a few before lunch he missed after he mentioned the Stark Internship coming up this morning. Playing your role, you ask him about the Stark Internship. He makes up something you didn’t really listen to because you were to focused on how his cheeks darkened when he was nervous. But when he started to say how great it was working under Tony you had to hold back a chuckle.

“What? What’s so funny?” He asked, instantly taken back by your laugh. Your eyes widened as you realized what you’d done.

“Oh it’s nothing! It’s just, you seem so fond of My- Mr. Stark. I-It’s nice.” You grimace at your almost slip up, hoping he didn’t notice. Which thankfully neither of them did. The rest of the lunch was you listening to Peter and Ned talk. You knew you shouldn’t have gotten close to them, but what your dad didn’t know wasn’t going to hurt him. You all joked and made nerdy references you thought they wouldn’t get, but in response they made just as many. The next few weeks went just as well, spending as much time with the two of them as you could. Peter never told you he was Spider-Man yet it didn’t matter because you already knew Peter’s secret, but Ned has apparently just found out that afternoon, a little while before you came over. You were sitting in Peter’s room, listening to music and working on math homework while Ned whispered questions to Peter. Your music volume was low so you could hear what they were talking about in case they wanted to talk to you, but Ned just wanted to talk about Spider-Man.

“Shhh man! She’ll hear you!” Peter said quietly looking at you as you bobbed your head to the soft music, pretending you didn’t hear them. Peter couldn’t help the smile that graced his face when he looked at you. He couldn’t deny the fact he was falling for you, he was falling hard. You had become such a big part of his life in 2 months and he knew he couldn’t bring you into his superhero antics.

“Dude, Just ask her out already.” Ned said, snapping Peter out of his staring, also causing your breath to hitch, but you played it off like you were working on a hard problem. Peter’s eyes widened as he looked away.

“NED! Don’t say that! She’ll hear you!” He repeated, although this time he yelled it, making it impossible to pretend you didn’t hear it. You yanked out your ear buds before smirking at them.

“Alright boys. What are we talking about?” You leant back in his bed, resting up against the wall as Ned spun around in Peter’s desk chair. Poor Peter who was sitting on the ground looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Uhh. N-nothing Y/N. We weren’t t-talking about anything!” He said giving you a forced smile and laugh. You glanced between him and Ned before shrugging, looking back down at the math book in your lap before throwing it to the side, moving in the bed so your feet were up on the wall and your head was dangling off the bed, hair falling down as well.

“Guys, I’m bored! Can we do something?” You moaned as Peter looked back up at you. Your eyes met as you both blushed, but not looking away. You liked him. You liked Peter Parker, the one guy you were told not to get involved with. What a clichéd life.

“Ok well this was fun, but I have to go!” Ned quickly said before grabbing his stuff and leaving you two staring out the door.

“That was weird, right?” You asked before turning back to Peter and laughing.

“Honestly not really.” Your laugh was contagious as he found himself falling closer to you as both of your eyes closed, laughing as well. You weren’t sure at what moment it was that made you realize your feelings for him, but with all the time you spent with them, how could you not like him? He was dorky like you, smart like you, and once you get to know him, extremely funny. Peter opened his eyes before you, taking in the look of joy in your face before you opened your own eyes and he noticed how close you were. Your face was upside down and level with his and he couldn’t look away. Neither could you. “Hi...”

“...hey.” You whispered too scared to ruin the moment. “Do you remember the first week I came to midtown? When Flash was giving me a hard time in the hallway? And you came over to tell him to stop and then he just moved on to you?” He nodded, frowning and lowering his head as he remembered that moment. Flash was going on about you being the new girl and only being friends with ‘Penis Parker’ and Ned. You rolled your eyes and tried to ignore him but when he slammed your locker closed on you, you thought you were going to let him have it right then and there. But when Peter came and stood in between you and Flash, you couldn’t help the smile on your face. Even when Flash went after Peter he still stood up against you. You pressed your hand to Peter’s cheek as he looked up. “I never got to thank you. It meant a lot to me.”

“Flash’s a dick, don’t let him get to you. And of course I was going to stand up for you. You’re amazing.” He blushed at his words, and the fact that your hand never left his cheek.

“You’re pretty amazing too. You know that?”

“Yeah, but it helps to have someone remind me.” He smirked causing you to playfully scoff at his cockiness. You both fell into a comfortable silence before you bit your lip catching yourself glancing at his lips, looking back at his eyes to see him looking at your lips. The next second was a blur as you found your eyes closing and Peter leaning in.

“I’m home!” May yelled from the living room, causing both Peter and you to jerk away from each other in fear of being caught. You rubbed the back of your neck as you tried to calm your racing heartbeat. Peter got to his feet faster than you thought possible as you threw your books in your backpack. “Oh! Hi Y/N. I didn’t know you were here. Is Ned here as well?” She asked as you followed Peter out of his room.

“He was. But he left a little while ago.” You quickly said as Peter looked between you and May. His cheeks were still red and you hoped yours had cooled off a little more. May nodded her head as she pulled out the groceries she bought.

“Are you staying for dinner? We’re having meatloaf.” She offered grinning at you. You thanked her but told her your dad had already made dinner for the two of you. You said goodbye to Peter and May before heading back to the tower. Thinking of the almost kiss you just had. It would’ve been your first.

Tony had noticed you spacing out that night during dinner, but it was Nat that had brought it up.

“What’s up with you? You’ve been acting weird all afternoon. And you turned down training, you never turn down training.” She pointed a fork at you accusingly. No one knew that you’d gotten close with Peter. It was basically a secret life that you refused to let anyone in on, especially not your dad or Peter.

“Nothing’s up. I’m just stressed with all the school work that they’re forcing me to do. I mean, I’m smart but the amount of work they are giving us is insane. Also I’ve just been working on my suit, trying to get a new update working with it. It ain’t easy.” You half lied before shoveling a few last bites into your mouth. “Speaking of which, I’m going to go check on its status now. Thanks for dinner. Bye!” you hurried off leaving Natasha, Tony, and the others gawking at you. You ended up in your lab, one that Tony had built for you after you took over his lab, as you played with a few settings on your suit. You were used to going days without sleep, but unfortunately you’ve already spent your no sleep days prior to this moment. Your eyes started to close as your hand slipped, causing sparks to come from your suit and wake you up.

“Shit!” you yelled as you pulled your hand away before it could get hurt. You heard a few noises coming from the suit before the power went out in it. “No. no, no, no, no!” you yelled, trying to get it working again. When it didn’t work, you chucked your tools against the wall. Tony was heading down to talk to you before hearing the clatter of your tools hitting the wall and your groan.

“You know, tools tend help better when they are sprawled across the room.” He joked, leaning against the door frame as you spun in your chair to face him. He noticed the frown on your face as he came closer, pulling you in for a hug to comfort you. “You gotta get some sleep, bug. Look, I have to head to India first thing tomorrow morning, but I’ll be back by Monday, okay?” he said, pulling you back to look at the bags under your eyes. You nodded and gave him a small smile. “Just take it easy. Get some sleep. And stop hanging out at Peter’s after school for so long.”

Your eyes went wide as he smirked. “You know? H-How? I was so careful!” you shouted, slumping in your chair. Tony just chuckled and rubbed your arms.

“You do realize I can see your texts when you leave your phone on the couch, right? Also, I’m Tony Stark.” He said as you sighed, shaking your head at him. He kissed your head before leaving, coming back for a second to tell you to go to sleep. You decided to listen to him and call it a night, leaving your not-working suit on the table for another day.

The next day started to go by faster than you thought, and soon you found yourself in gym with Peter and Ned. You were climbing the rope, trying to get up and down faster than Flash, who had challenged you when Ned’s voice echoed through the gym.

“Peter knows Spider-Man!” you nearly fell off at his statement. What the hell was he thinking! You glanced at who he was speaking too and guilt struck you when you realized why he said it. They were trying to impress Liz Allen. You slid down the rope, roughly burning your hands but you didn’t pay attention, only laughing a little at Flash who tried to be cool and copy you, only to burn his hands on the material. You started to head over to do damage control before Peter said he met him during the internship. You listened to the conversation a little more, hoping you wouldn’t have to blow your cover but when Flash brings up the party, your heart drops.

“Yeah, I’m having a party tonight. You’re more than welcome to come.”

No…

“Having a party?”

No Peter…

“Yeah, it’s gonna be dope. You should totally invite your personal friend Spider-Man.”

Well, you’re fucked.

You look back at Flash, who wasn’t paying attention to you but sauntering over to Peter. If looks could kill, Flash would’ve been six feet under. You stopped paying attention, trying to come up with some way to get Peter out of this. When the bell rang you didn’t even process it until Flash bumped into you.

“Don’t worry, Y/L/N. He won’t completely embarrass himself. But you know, if he did, you could always spend the rest of the night with me.” Flash said as he threw his arm over your shoulder, causing you to scoff before shrugging it off. You started to walk ahead of him only for him to jog back up to you.

“You’re trying to hard Flash. I don’t hang out with people who put out for anyone with boobs.” You simply shrugged as you left Flash opened mouthed at your comment. Peter, from across the room, couldn’t help but listen in on your conversation, a sense of pride at your comeback. You spent the rest of the afternoon racking your brain with plans after plans. When school ended, you quickly found Peter at his locker and tapped his shoulder to gain his attention.

“Hey, Parker! What do you say we do something tonight? Maybe head over to Delmar’s and get some subs and then a Star Wars marathon?” you asked, biting your lip, hoping he’d agree. He gave you an apologetic smile and you knew you’d lost.

“I’m sorry. I can’t, I promised Ned that I’d go to Liz’s party with him tonight. Y-you’re welcomed to join us as well! As long as your parents are fine with it.” He offered as you sulked a little.

“My dad’s in India.” You mumbled, forgetting he has enhanced hearing as you hoped he couldn’t hear you. “Sounds like fun. Sure. Meet you there?” He nodded his head as you turned around to leave. Peter watched you leave as Ned came up behind him.

“Are you going to ask her out dude or not? I’m getting tired of watching you stare at her when she’s not looking.” Ned deadpanned as Peter groaned. He wanted to ask you out so bad, but he wasn’t sure if you even thought of him that way, if you even thought of him as more than a friend.

You picked up a sub on your way home anyways, falling on your bed as you ate it. You had to go to the party. You had to make sure Peter didn’t show up as Spider-Man and screw everything up. You glanced over to your closet, looking for something to wear to your first high school party. Running through the sweatshirts, T-Shirts, and pants you had you gave up, deciding to ask Nat for some help.

“Hey. So, I’m going to this… party… tonight, and I kind of need help with an outfit. I don’t think sweats and a band shirt are cutting it.” You muttered, trying to hide the embarrassment in your voice.

“Come on. Let’s see what we can do, Little Stark.” She grabbed your hand pulling you to her room as you both rummaged through her closet. She blasted some music and you both joked until you found what you wanted to wear. You ended up wearing tight blue jeans that fit your curves perfectly as well as a bright red, sleeveless peplum top. You curled your hair and pulled half up into a pony tail as the rest dangled off your shoulders. You looked put together but also nothing like you normally looked. “You look hot girl.” Nat said, voicing your thoughts. You giggled as she stood proud of her work.

“Thanks Nat. I have to go or else I’m gonna be late. See you when I get back?” you asked as you picked up your purse and threw your phone in. She hummed a yes before sending you on your way to Liz’s.

You sent Peter a text to let him know you were here before heading into the house. You quickly scanned around before your phone buzzed with a text telling you they were going to be there soon. You sighed before grabbing a cup and filling it with what you hoped was beer. You turned around after a few minutes when you heard Flash yell something over a microphone that sounded like ‘Penis Parker’. You grimaced before looking towards the door and catching sight of Peter and Ned walking into the house.

“Hey!” you yelled over the music as their heads turned towards you. Ned was quick to pull you in for a hug while Peter just stared wide eyes at you. “Peter?”

“H-hey! Y-you look nice-e.” he stammered as you grinned at him, biting your lip. You pulled in him for a hug and he squeezed you tightly as you whispered thanks in his ear. The party went on as you clung close to Ned and Peter, who couldn’t keep his eyes off you, not that he would want too. At some point you had separated to go to the bathroom, but when you came back you found Ned alone on the couch which sparked every red light in your head.

“Where’d Pete go?” you asked as Ned started yammering an excuse about something that you weren’t paying attention to. “Ok. Well, I’m going to get another drink.” You lied before running off outside. You looked around the building, quickly spotting the red and blue suit followed by a brown tussle of hair. “Really? Couldn’t even keep his mask on?” you whispered to yourself, throwing your hands up in annoyance. You were about to yell his name before an explosion occurred in the distance. You quickly looked over before turning just in time to see Peter fly off the building, right towards the big purple explosion in the sky. You quickly pulled out your phone to summon your suit before realizing you never fixed it after last night. Instead you dialed your dad’s number, knowing he was going to answer.

“Hey bug. What’s up?”

“Dad! I need you to send your suit! Put it through my phone so I can control it!” you panted as you started running, glad you decided against the heels Nat chose and went with your converse. “Can’t really explain, uh Peter, explosion in the distance, went after it, don’t know if he can handle it.”

“Ok. I sent the suit. What’s wrong with yours?” He asked completely forgetting about last night. “Right never mind, just remembered. Are-Are you running right now?”

You huffed a response before thanking him, hanging up your phone only to realize he was controlling it. “Damn it Dad. You couldn’t let me play hero. Or at least pick me up.” You didn’t have any eyes on the situation but you kept running, hoping you could be there fast enough. You felt like you were running for an hour, following the tracker on Peter’s suit, as you wounded up at a playground. You tried not to get close but Peter heard you, very out of breath and panting. Tony’s suit had just flown away and Peter was mad.

“Who’s there?” he yelled as you ducked behind a tree, cursing yourself at getting to close. Peter quickly threw his mask on as he looked through the trees, not seeing anything. “I can hear you. I know you’re there.” You felt your heart stop as you kept quiet. Peter carefully made his way closer, just in case you were dangerous. But when he saw you, bent over with your hands on your knees he couldn’t help but be confused. “What are you doing here?”

You looked up at him before looking down at the ground. “Damn, I need to run more. Look, just forget I was here Spider-Man. I didn’t see anything.” You put your hands up in surrender as your phone rang, buzzing against the ground as a picture of Tony and you popped up on the screen with big letters saying DAD. Peter’s eyes, or at least the big white eyes on the suit, widened as he looked down, picking up the phone before looking back at you.

“What the hell is this?” He tossed the phone to you and you denied the call. You could feel everything fall apart but only thing that let you have the upper hand is him not knowing you knew who he was.

“Why does it matter? My life doesn’t involve you, Spider-Man.” You challenged, hoping that he would drop it.

“Well it does when Mr. Stark is your father and you’re chasing after Spider-Man. So, tell me the truth Y/N. What the hell is this!” you didn’t catch how he said your name in enough time before you responded.

“It’s nothing Parker. I promise.” You froze. He froze. You let it slip so easily. What kind of spy were you? Peter reached up to pull his mask off and you saw how glossy his eyes were as he stared at you. You ruined it.

“You knew? This whole time you knew? What w-were you just a spy for M-Mr. Stark?”

Yes.

“Did any of this mean anything for you?”

Yes.

“Was I some mission?”

Yes.

“Peter…” you started. Your voice was on the edge of breaking as you reached your hand out to his, only for him to pull it away.

“NO! You were lying to me! Everything you said was just a lie!” His voice sounded so crush as tears fell from his eyes.

“Peter.” He turned to walk away before you ran in front of him, stopping his movements. “Please! Just hear me out!” He looked in your eyes but didn’t say anything, which you took as a go ahead. “When I was born I lived with my mom until she died and then I went to live with my father who had just came out as Iron Man. They decided to keep that a secret. They didn’t want the world to know Tony Stark had a kid and so I was hidden. But when you came into the picture, just a kid a few months older than me, my dad decided that they needed to watch you. So I was sent to Midtown and I wasn’t supposed to meet you, just watch from afar like I’ve done my whole life, but the more I watched, the more I got to know you and somehow you became my best friend. You became the guy I was in love with. I was never faking anything, ever.”

Your tears had flowed for a while now, both you and Peter broken hearted at your words. He didn’t say anything and you couldn’t speak anymore. You started to take a step backwards before Peter pulled you into him, locking your lips with his and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. It only lasted for a few seconds before he pulled away, taking a step back before facing you again.

“We’re done. I don’t want to see you anymore. I can’t trust you not to lie again. We’re done.” He muttered before flying away, leaving you in the playground with a broken heart. Your phone buzzed again and you ignored it, heading back towards the tower after your busy night. When your phone buzzed the last time you were about to throw it away before realizing what it was. Tony finally gave you control of the suit. You called it over, stepping inside as you flew up above the city, now heading anywhere but home.

This brings us back to you sitting on top of a random apartment building in Queens, eyes watery, throat closed, and legs dangling off the edge. Your dad’s voice echoed through your head.

“Don’t get involved.”

God you should’ve listened.

Part 2?

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[the-awkward-outlaw]

Hey, it&apos;s been awhile. May I request angst mixed with betrayal from the reader to Arthur? She's an undercover Pinkerton and quickly falls in the VDL gang (Milton ordered her to after his visit in Clemen). She then later finds out about Micah and refuses to team up with him, but make their agreement he can have Dutch and her Arthur. She unintentionally falls in love and can't kill him. She betrays Milton and leaves Arthur. He chases after her but she's long gone, riding away in a train.

Okay, don’t hate me, but this one is not as detailed and skips over a lot of stuff that happened in the game, but that was to save on time. Even then, what I have below was ten pages! This request really could have made out to be a multichapter fic. 

Masterlist

Read on AO3

You stand in the center of the clearing, inspecting the various items scattered around. They were here, that damn gang you’ve been chasing for weeks now. From the way the things they left behind lie, they left in a hurry. But where? The trails they took out of here in their wagons point to the main trail where it’s impossible to track them. 

Ross walks over to you, holding a broken pocketwatch. “Find anything?” he asks you, and you respond with a shake of your head. 

“We need to find these… people,” Milton says, astride his horse. 

He was assigned the mission of hunting down the Van der Linde gang shortly after the Blackwater incident. His focus on them has been nothing short of an obsession. He bumped into one of the higher ups in the gang about a week back. The man had been out fishing with a young boy, presumably his son. Then Cornwall showed up in Valentine and shot Van der Linde and some of his boys out of town, screwing up everything. They clearly fled shortly afterwards. 

You’ve been following the movements of the gang along with Milton and the other men. Their path is dribbled with blood and corpses. You won’t soon forget finding that river full of dead men, the result of a shootout involving some of Dutch’s boys after they robbed a stage. It’s believed the dead belong to a rival gang, though nothing is confirmed yet. 

“You there,” Milton barks at you, beckoning to you. “Have you found anything? Any tracks? I want these men caught.” 

“No, sir.” You say stiffly. Of course he would expect you to have found something, even though no one else has. 

Agent Milton. Even to the other agents, he’s a bastard. He’s worse to you because you’re the only woman. You were recruited into it by your father, who wanted to prove, after the pleadings of your now-dead mother, that women could do the same jobs as men. Milton clearly disagreed with your father and wasn’t afraid to voice it, but as your father is head of the Agency, there was little he could do to dissuade your father. 

“Well, get looking, woman. Otherwise all you’ll be doing is proving sweet old daddy wrong.” 

You ignore the remark and go back to searching. Just because your father put you here doesn’t mean Milton can’t dismiss you, as much as you hate him. Besides, you want to prove that you are just as capable as the rest of the fellas here. 

However, after another few hours of searching, nothing is found that points to where the gang has fled. Milton believes they went either north or east. East is more likely as the mountains in the north are still locked in snow. 

After a couple of weeks go by, rumors have been sprouting up from the town of Rhodes of civil unrest between the two most prominent families in the regions, the Grays and the Braithwaites. Something about it catches your attention. You’ve heard of these families of course, they’re the richest in the area. Could Van der Linde be playing them both in his endless attempts for money? 

You bring the idea up to Milton who dismisses it at first. Of course he does. He can never admit that some of your ideas are actually good. That is until word gets out that most of the Grays were killed during a massive shootout and the Irishman who escaped bounty hunters in Blackwater was shot and killed. Even Milton couldn’t deny that your previous predictions were right, so he takes you and Ross down with him to investigate. 

Finding the gang’s hideout isn’t hard. Ross spotted a huge group of them leaving a cluster of trees in an area called Clemens Point. Van der Linde was with them so Milton deemed it pointless to go into their hideout until morning when it was sure he would be there. 

When it’s time to go to the hideout, Milton stops you. “I’m not going to be held responsible when you get shot,” he says nastily before riding off. That’s it, you’ve had it. You’re sick and tired of Milton and his patronizing. When Ross and Milton return, announcing their unsuccessful attempt at taking down the gang, it’s obvious the gang is going to make another run. It’s time for some real action. 

You ditch your agent’s uniform and don some ordinary clothes, trying to look the part. You’re fairly sure the gang will continue to head east. You would if you were an outlaw. Saint Denis is a good place to hide. Plenty of criminals find a place to disappear there. So you position yourself on the trail and before long, a wagon train led by Van der Linde himself comes your way, so you pretend to be injured. 

You couldn’t have expected things to go so well, but before you know it, you’re ingratiated into the camp. They’ve moved into Shady Belle, but you have to be careful about sneaking off to report it to Milton. Many of the members are suspicious about you, not that you blame them. Your fake backstory has plenty of holes, even you can see that. 

That’s not the only thing stopping you from reporting the gang to Milton, though. After only a couple of weeks, you feel more accepted here than you ever did with Milton and the other agents. It’s clear that both men and women are treated fairly equal. Hell, only the first night, two girls named Karen and Tilly invited you to go robbing, which you did to try and prove you weren’t an officer. 

As you dig yourself deeper in the gang, you find yourself becoming more involved in their lives. They’re not what Milton said they were, savage people who would do anything out of desperation, lacking sympathy for any and all other people. They’re a tight-knit family people and most of them were handed a raw deal in life and are simply trying to make the best of it with what they have. The best example of this is Dutch Van der Linde’s right-hand gun, Arthur Morgan. 

It didn’t take you long of digging to find out his backstory (followed up with what Milton told you). Orphaned at a young age, he was forced to turn to a life of crime for survival and was taken in by Dutch and Hosea. Despite the amount of people he’s robbed and killed, you cannot deny that he is one of the best people you’ve met. Brave, determined, and one of the most loyal people you’ve ever known. 

Throughout your time with the Pinkertons, you saw plenty of cases of agents turning their backs on one another in order to elevate themselves in the ranks. But Dutch and Arthur, they don’t do that. Not because they are the highest in the gang, but because they care about the others. It’s not long after you spend some time with Arthur that you realize you’ve fallen for him, and his behavior towards you says he feels the same. 

Arthur’s sweet and caring. He immediately took you in when you joined, trying to dig into your back story. Then Tilly was kidnapped and you’d gone with them to find her and it was obvious how much Arthur cared. You also witnessed Arthur comforting Tilly when she was found and it melted your heart. A few weeks later, you and Arthur shared your first kiss in the theater in Saint Denis. 

Things quickly changed between you after that. Arthur quickly became the best companion you’ve ever had. Protective, thoughtful. He even liked to go around in camp and hug you, sometimes even kiss you. One night he pulled you onto his lap while he played poker with John and Susan. A few nights after that incident, you and Arthur got drunk and ended up having sex in his bed. It was easily the best of your life. 

A few days have passed since you and Arthur first made love. The gang is busy as a big bank heist is being planned and it’s supposed to happen today. The Pinkerton part of your brain knows you should slip away from the gang and tell Milton about this, but the other part of your brain, the one loyal to Arthur and Dutch, says in a much more powerful voice to leave it alone, so that’s what you decide to do. 

You sit up in Arthur’s cot, stretching. A large hand suddenly slides over your back. 

“You nervous?” Arthur’s voice says. “Your first big heist.” 

“Arthur, I’m not even going to be part of it. I’m staying here, remember?” you laugh and turn around, putting your hand on his bare chest. 

“Yeah, but still. It don’t take a genius to know you’re green at this sorta thing.” 

“Sure, but I don’t think it’ll be a problem. After all, you all seem capable.” 

“Sure,” he says. “Now come here. I’m feelin’... stressed.” 

You smile, knowing Arthur wants to get busy with you again. “Liar, but I’ll humor you.” You lean down and kiss him before straddling his legs and getting to work. 

A few hours later, Arthur walks out of the manor, dressed in his fancy suit. He pulls you into a long, tight kiss before mounting his horse. You watch him and the others ride off. Micah Bell turns and gives you a look that unsettles you for some reason. 

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

Shortly after the heist, the news came that the robbery had gone as far south as it could have. Most of the men who went are missing, John’s imprisoned and Lenny and Hosea are dead. Somehow Milton found out about the robbery, even though you haven’t seen him since the gang left Rhodes. However, you can’t shake a feeling of guilt for the incident. How could you not? You’re a Pinkerton, and it was your men who destroyed everything. 

While Dutch, Arthur and the others are missing, you help the gang as best you can, but you also have a feeling that Milton’s patience with you has grown extremely thin. So when you can manage to slip away from the gang without attracting suspicion, you meet up with Milton. 

“We managed to catch Van der Linde in the act of robbing the bank without your aid, Miss (your last name). If it were up to me, I’d have you imprisoned with the rest of those men who remain for aiding criminals.” 

You swallow nervously, knowing he could easily have you arrested. There’s enough evidence to prove his word too. Not even your father could keep you out. 

“However, I am willing to make a deal for those who have earned it,” Milton says, his eyes cold. “So I will make you one now. Give me Van der Linde and I will not give your dear daddy the horrible truth.” 

“I can’t,” you say. “I don’t know where he is. After he managed to escape your lot, he disappeared along with the other men left alive from the heist.” 

“My lot, hmm?” Milton says. “My, I never thought highly of you to begin with, but even I gave you credit to not stoop so low.” 

You blush a bit, aware of the other men staring hard at you. “Milton, give me one more chance. I can try to fix this with the least amount of damage. I’ll do my best to bring you Van der Linde.” 

To your surprise, Milton agrees, so you return to the gang. A few weeks later, Dutch, Arthur and the others return. Soon after, the gang moves up to Beaver Hollow and then things really fall apart. Molly gets killed for supposedly ratting the gang out to Milton, which doesn’t sound right to you. Milton never mentioned a member of the gang spilling the beans. 

Things quickly go downhill after this. Dutch has clearly begun to lose his mind, his ideas are getting wilder and more risky. Arthur and some of the others try to slow him down, including you, but you’re also under a lot of pressure. Milton made it clear that you’re expected to report to him in order to avoid him telling your father what you’ve really been doing. He’s using your role as a double agent to his full advantage. Somehow though, Dutch still evades Milton’s grasp, and luckily so does Arthur. You, however, are not counting on this to last. 

Soon after Arthur and John destroy the bridge near the fort, you sit Arthur down, finally at your wit’s end. This pressure from Dutch and Milton is really straining you. In the quiet and privacy of your shared tent, you beg Arthur to run away with you. 

“Arthur, I have a way for us to get out. I… I can’t guarantee everyone else will come with us.” 

“What you talkin’ about, darlin’?” 

It’s time to come clean, you decide, so you tell him the truth. Arthur is beyond furious He storms out of the tent without bothering to give you a response. It’s not long afterwards that everyone else discovers your dirty little secret. Dutch stomps over, grabs you by the hair, and throws you down in the center of camp. 

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t shoot you now!” he hollers as you try fruitlessly to fight him off. 

“Because Milton wants me dead just as much as you! And I didn’t ask to be a Pinkerton, my father forced me to.” 

“Lies! You’re the reason Hosea and Lenny are dead!” 

“Bullshit! I didn’t say a damn word about that to Milton! That was Micah, all Micah! Milton told me.” 

Micah walks up, smirking. “Really? And who do you think everyone here is going to believe?” 

Dutch throws you to the ground and Susan walks over, a shotgun in hand. By the look of her face, you know exactly what’s coming for you. No one steps up to defend you either, not that you can blame them. Your secret is the worst kind of betrayal. 

Without thinking, you stand up and run, smashing through the circle by pushing your way through Tilly and Jack. Shots fire out and somehow they miss. As you mount your horse, you dare one last look at Arthur. The look on his face breaks your heart. Dashing down the trail, you know what you’re going to do. 

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

Milton paces back and forth in front of you, pondering your proposal. “So… I have your word, miss, that you’ll give me Van der Linde?” 

“Yes. As long as you spare Arthur Morgan. And maybe John Marston and his wife and child.” 

“I get one life and you’re spared the lives of three degenerate murderers and criminals and their bastard child? No, you can pick one.” 

“Fine,” you say, your heart breaking. “Then Arthur. Give me your word you’ll spare Arthur and I’ll give you Dutch Van der Linde.” 

Milton gives you a sickening smile. “Deal.” You make him sign the contract you wrote up and then Ross signs it as a witness before you do as well. This way, Milton has no way to go back on your word and you take the paper. Sighing after resolving yourself to this complete betrayal, you tell Milton where Dutch is. Shortly afterwards, Milton leaves with his men and he orders you to stay put. 

The next few hours are nothing short of hell. Will Milton keep his word? Will he spare Arthur or will he bring back the news that he got killed in an “accident”? You can only imagine the rage Arthur will feel if and when he finds out what you’ve done, but you can only hope he understands why. Dutch has gone insane. He’s been on a suicide trail ever since Guarma and he’s taking everyone down with him. 

Finally, gratefully, the group of Pinkertons returns, but Milton isn’t with them. Ross explains that after Milton shot Dutch, the gang scattered and Milton was killed in the crossfire. When you ask about Arthur, he sneers. 

“You don’t have to worry about your poor choice in romance, miss. Mr. Morgan escaped without a scratch, just like we promised. I may have uh, let slip that you’re the reason why his devoted leader died.” 

Fuck. You were hoping he wouldn’t find out, but you’re not surprised. Ross is nearly as loathed as Milton was. 

“Very well. I held up my end of the deal. Now tell me where Arthur is and let me go.” 

Ross shrugs his shoulders and tells you that Arthur’s heading back west with some of the others who escaped. You quickly mount up and run in that direction, hoping to find him. After a few days of scouring and trailing, you find Arthur riding along with John, Abigail, Jack, Charles and Sadie. You scream his name and Arthur stops. 

When he sees you, Arthur looks beyond furious. As you approach, he whips out his gun and points it at you. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t kill ya where ya stand!” he roars. 

“Arthur! It’s… it’s me,” you say, tears streaking down your cheeks. “I didn’t want to, but I had to. To keep you alive.” 

“I saw Milton put a bullet through Dutch’s head. That was on you! If it weren’t for the fact that you and I were lovers, I’d be putting one through yours too.” 

“Are… are we not lovers anymore, Arthur?”

His face tells you that he could not be more disgusted by you. “You could have done anything else, Y/N. Anything! We coulda protected ya from Milton and his men. It ain’t like you were the only one hiding from the Pinkertons.” 

“I told you and you all threw me out! Hell, Susan tried to shoot me!” you scream, trying to make Arthur see why you did it. 

“You shoulda told me from the start! Instead, you lied to us, you betrayed us!” Arthur narrows his eyes. Sadie and John have pulled out their guns by this point, but he instructs them to put them away. “I loved you once, Y/N. I’m giving you this one chance to live. Now get outta my sight.” 

Your heart breaking, you turn your horse and run off. Arthur’s reaction is like a slap in the face. Of all people you thought might understand, you thought he would. 

However, you decide to try and learn from this mistake. Instead of heading home and to your father, you stay out west and become an outlaw. 

Years pass with no word from Arthur. Nothing would make you happier than to see him again, to apologize properly and wish him a true good bye, but you understand his desire to stay away from you. Word comes of a JM who bought a property called Beecher’s Hope outside of Blackwater and you have a suspicion it just might be John Marston, but you don’t visit. You choose to stay at Hanging Dog Ranch, running your own gang. They like calling themselves the Laramie Boys, which you don’t discourage. 

One afternoon, you’re sitting in the attic of the house on the ranch, planning to rob a train that will be coming through in the next week. The air is suddenly filled with gunfire, men shouting. You quickly grab your own guns and head out, fully aware that your ranch is being attacked.

Just as you hit the bottom of the stairs, the air goes silent. However, there’s a lingering feeling that someone is outside, waiting for you. After peaking out the window, your heart stops when you see who it is. 

Arthur stands there, a rifle in one hand. Standing next to him is John. Something tells you they aren’t here for a social call, but they also don’t know it’s you. With a heavy sigh, you open the door and walk out. 

John holds up his gun and points it at you, but Arthur looks shocked. 

“Hello, John. Arthur. You two look good. How’s Jack? Boy must be… what, fifteen?”

“We ain’t here to chat, Y/N,” John says. He gives Arthur a sympathetic look. 

Arthur sighs heavily and looks at you properly. “Y/N. Ten years ago, you betrayed us. You betrayed Dutch in order to save me. Your selfish deeds have been called in.” 

Your stomach drops when you realize what he means. “Arthur, why? You were happy to let me live before.” 

“I’m sorry. I wanted to let ya go, I really did. But… The Pinkertons weren’t satisfied.” 

“They have my family, Y/N. We were told to… to hunt down all our old gang members so I can get them back.” 

This doesn’t seem right to you. “John, I made a deal with those bastards. I gave them Dutch, and Arthur and I got to live.” 

“They see things different, Y/N,” Arthur says, his voice heavy. He doesn’t say it, but he still loves you. He was heartbroken when he found out what you did to get Dutch killed, but there were many times in the years following when he wanted to find you. After all, he knew Dutch was beyond saving and would have taken everyone down with him, but he didn’t want to see it then. 

You swallow, tears filling your eyes. “I see. Well, do what you must, friends. But don’t think that they won’t betray you as they’ve betrayed me. You think they won’t kill you both? You’re gang members too. They want us all dead.” 

“I can’t think about that, Y/N!” John shouts, almost desperate. “They have my family!” 

You hold your head high and look at Arthur. “Okay. Do me one favor though. I’ll make it easy.” You unhook your gun belt and let it fall. “My one request is that you do it, Arthur. I did the worst thing to you, and you deserve your revenge.” 

Arthur looks away, and then he looks back at you. “Don’t you remember what I told ya about revenge? It’s a fool’s game.” 

“Arthur. My family.” 

Arthur turns to him. “We can get them back still, Marston. After all, we got a former Pinkerton here. Something tells me she’s got some dirt she’d be happy to dig up on ‘em.” 

You smile. “Oh do I. If I told the agency the filth Milton did in order to meet his ends, they’d be shocked.” 

Arthur smiles and drops his gun. “Good. Then come with us, darlin’. We can protect ya.” 

You sigh and shake your head. “I don’t deserve it, Arthur. I’m the reason this all happened.” 

Arthur walks up and stops a few feet from you. “I know why you did it, darlin’. You didn’t have a choice. I didn’t see it that way before, but I’ve had enough time to see it for how it really was. Dutch would have killed us all, but you managed to only let him get killed and the rest of us got away. Not to mention the Wapiti. Who knows what trouble Dutch would’ve gotten them in to.” 

Before you can respond, Arthur’s arms are around you. He pulls you tight against him and you begin to sob. Only God knows how much you’ve missed him. John clears his throat and reminds you both that he has a family to save. 

“Sorry, Marston,” you say, wiping your eyes. “Now let’s go get your family.” 

With a new resolve, you walk back to the horses hand in hand with Arthur, determined to fight to the very death if you must to set things right. It seems a lot easier now that you have Arthur by your side. With him here, you could take on the entire world if you wanted to.

[onebadwinter]

Name: James Buchanan Barnes

Meaning of Name:  James: It means "supplanter," one who follows., Buchanan: The place name is thought to derive from the Gaelic elements buth, meaning "house" and chanain, meaning "of the canon.",  Barnes: Warrior,  Nickname(s):  Bucky, Winter Soldier, Captain America, The Man On The Wall, Bucky Barnes, Buck, Sarge, Prisoner #56898,, Солдат, The Asset, The New Fist of HYDRA, Fallen Comrade, The Shooter, Ghost, Manchurian Candidate, Semi-Stable 100-Year-Old Man, Canary, Sidekick, W.S., Jim Barnes,

Age: Unknown, a few years younger than Steve Rogers, originally. But willing to make fit Steve’s age, properly if requested and I’m willing.

Birthday/Place: Unknown, March 10th or 20th, 1910-30s. Shelbyville, Indiana.

Species/Nationality:  Human/Super Soldier, American, Ice Elf on his mothers side,  American, Badoon,  German, The Chosen, Canadian, Scandinavian

Accent: American

Language spoken: English, Spanish, Hindi, Portuguese,Galician, German, Russian, Ancient Greek, Latin, Thai, Japanese, Old Norse, Aramaic,

Powers/Abilities:  Super Human Strength, Enhanced Reaction Time, Sensory Array, Extended Reach, EMP Discharge, Expert Spy, Electrical Discharge, Bionic Arm, Master Martial Artist, Expert Marksmen, Expert Assassin, Skilled Shield Fighter, Acrobatic, Advanced Scouting, Peak Human Condition, Enhanced Durability, Enhanced Reflexes, Enhanced Endurance, Enhanced Stamina, Regenerative Healing, Cybernetic Enhanced Physiology,

Pet: Mole (Orla)

Illness/Allergies:  Not prior to, or after, being genetically altered. PTSD, Brain Damage. Apathy.

Occupation:  Solder/Assassin/ Experiment

Faceclaim: Sebastian Stan

Description: Looks just like Sebastian Stan in his twenties. Has blue grey eyes, light to dark brown hair,  has a metallic robotic arm. Scars litter his body from injuries sustained during the plane explosion that had originally killed him, plus wounds that followed from his time as a Winter Solder, and a wound between his shoulders from his time as Captain America, as well as several others.

Outfit/Accessories/Jewelry: Tactical outfit, casual clothing, half face mask, goggles, Bionic arm, guns.

Height: 5′9″

Weight: 234 (Counting Cybernetic arm)

Body Build: Athletic

Backstory/Background:

James was born James Buchanan Barnes in Shelbyville, Indiana in the early to late 1920s. Where he was raised on Army bases by his mother Winifred and his father George. He was born the eldest of four children. For most of the beginning of his life he and his family moved from base to base, as most army family's tended to do. Along these moves James had grown up being an Army brat, picking up on and getting actively involved in the army, even for such a young child. The happiness of course, as in most cases, didn't appear to last for too long. As in his young age his mother had died tragically early in his life.  Leaving the young James to help in raising his younger siblings while his father had continued to work in the army.

This had affected James' early maternal emotions in wanting to protect others. James had learned these skills while taking care of his younger siblings through the years. As well as picking up how to fight in a skillful manner. To the point that he became a sort of mascot to the base his father seemed to come to settle on. On this base it is here that James comes to meet a boy only a few years older than himself, Steve Rodgers. Here they begin to form a close friendship. James coming to learn all about Steve's home life, and eventual becoming an orphan, as well as Steve's weakened sickly life style. This is until they are both eventually separated  off and on until James is older.

This too, also did not last very long, either. When tragic news had come to the teenaged James that their father had died in an accident while away training on another base in a base in Virginia where they had finally moved to. After this event, James, old enough to not be sent to an orphanage has his siblings taken away from him, where they are sent away and eventually taken in by other families. James chooses to remain on the base and indulge in his enjoyment of the man who everyone called Captain America. Which James had been a huge fan of for the last several years since Captain America had started to appear on magazines and on bases. 

During these days he tended to get into some trouble but showed he had the potential of being great, one day, if he had worked hard enough and remained focused on joining the army as more than just a mascot. At some point however, while Captain America had been visiting a base, James took the chance to actually meet his 'hero', and when offered a training position on a S.A.S Unit, he took it. Leading him taking fighting lessons from the very same people who also trained the Sentinel of Liberty.

During this training James was considered to be a perfect match in partnering up with Captain America. This all in mostly an attempt to capture the attention of America's you, so they would invest in the building war against the Axis. But it also was to the dirty work. While fighting against the axis. James and Captain America, who James had accidentally stumbled upon one evening when walking in on Steve getting dressed, found out that Steve, his friend from many years ago had gone on to become Captain America, his hero. Which was a bit weird, he had to admit in some part. But eventually he got over it, because it was also so cool. 

The two eventually ended up fighting the Nazi's, and doing other heroic things in attempts to protect America and strike down evil. All that *Yawn* hero stuff, you want to know more about, read a Steve Bio. Anyway, eventually while trying to take down Baron Zemo who was trying to destroy and experimental Drone Plane, James had tried to stop the explosion and ended up getting blown the fuck up, as you do. With Steve being tossed into a frozen lake and freezing. James had apparently died. Or well, he literally died.

For quite a few years that followed James' death, he had remained frozen in the icy waters that his body landed in after Baron Zemo had blown the plane up. All but his right arm had frozen over in the icy coffin, as it had somehow become severed before the soldier landed in the waters. Upon being discovered by Hydra, James was soon revived but had suffered from severe brain damage and amnesia following his revival. This of course had lead to James no knowing who he was for many years to follow. During his time with Hydra they had used him to assassinate other political or enemies in general of their interest.

That was until one mission led to James kidnapping Sharon Carter,  many years after James' death and revival. Afterward the young woman brought it up to Steve and several others, which prompted Steve to look into it himself and finding out that it was indeed his former best friend. Which would lead to Steve trying to protect and save James, and several attempts to try and bring the other man back to his senses, or as the case was, remember who he was before all of these tragic events happened to him.  However, in Steve's attempt to reclaim his friend he had managed to do a bit more damage. Which results in the Cosmic Cube that James had on hand, being shattered.

In the years to follow James had tried in mostly success, at being the hero he had always dreamed himself of being in his childhood. At first he had to do this from within the shadows as the people had still not trusted him. Nick Fury had given him his missions and the chance to redeem himself, however. But these circumstances did not last long when it appeared that Steve had been assassinated, one day while going to trial for having instigated the Civil War over some accords, against the US Government and such else in the like. James had witnessed Steve's assassination and quickly, with the help of others he had befriend that were also Steve's friends, taken revenge on the person responsible, Crossbones, and Sharon?

However, it came to be found that Steve was not necessarily dead, just stuck in a time loop and Sharon was being manipulated and then framed for the assassination on Steve. Whose body had been taken over by Red Skull. James at this time was portraying himself as Captain America and was sent to fight off the Possessed Steve, who had by then started a Hydra Empire in the United States. During this fight James had sustained quite a lot of damage in order to give Steve enough time to fight of Red Skull. After this James decided to then go after sleeper agents for a while until Natasha got her own memories wiped by the last remaining of them, which ended fairly well for James in the end, not so much Natasha herself.

James continues on about whatever doing his Winter Soldier thing, going to prison, breaking himself out, with the help of Natasha, before she got he brain wiped of all memories of him that is. Things are good? Well as good as they can be for a short while. That would be until Kobiks arrived on the scene and started doing whatever it is she enjoys doing. She's made out of the shards of Cosmic Cube, by the way. Steve, who keeps retiring, not retiring and now is the director of S.H.I.E.L.D  since Nick killed a Watcher and James confronted him before Nick eventually peaces the fuck out to REPLACE the Watcher he killed, and left James to take Nick's place as "The Man on the Wall". Anyway. So Kobiks revitalized Steve, making him YOUNG, again, because Steve keeps getting older and James is has Infinity Formula in his vains from having died prior, again.

Moving on, James and Steve and everyone of their besties fight Kobiks new band mates who I guess then becomes protectors of Earth.  But who cares about that.  What's important to note here is that Helmut Zemo, son of Baron Zemo, he's mad, okay. He tries to kill James with the same plan his father tried to do before, intentionally this time, blow up a fucking plane. This family is absolutely, #Original.  However, the plan fails, much worse this time, for Helmut because James manages to escape with his life from the explosion and takes out Zemo for daring to even try to front him.  With having survived all of the attempts on his life, and mortal wounding up until now, and being abel to stab God Steve with a shard of the Cosmic Cube, since God Steve is all " Let me be a fucking asshole."

Afterward, all is returned to peace and Steve is back to not being a fucking asshole again, as well, they save Kobics by once again reforming the Cosmic Cube. But wait, there's more. James and Hawkeye soon team up to go on wild and crazy adventures together. Also, Thanos comes along and dusts most of everyone and Steve brings them all back, with the help of whatever Heros managed to not get dusted. It's a happy ending for all involved, except for Thanos,...and ...his army. But who cares about anyone of them? I am sure they'll be back, right?!  James now lives a moderately 'peaceful life', continuing his teamwork along side Hawkeye and occasionally teaming up with other heroes on the fly every so often, as he would see fit. ....But I don't know, how would you guys feel about this being an evil run? Hehehe.

Quirks/Savvies/Other: 

Knows a lot about Weapons.

Is good in a fight, just using a hunting knife.

Likes Heroics and Idolized Captain America in his youth.

Probably pretty good at engineering and science, but had never been trained in it. He is a Fixer, however.

Acts stupid, but is actually very intelligent.

Believes in mythology.

Interested in conspiracies.

Tinkers with things when he’s nervous.

Believes in magic.

Becomes tired when it’s too hot.

When he’s bored he will rearrange things.

Sings to himself.

He believes in dragons.

Is annoyed by Stuttering.

Interested in fairies.

Bothered by not knowing things.

Swears at every opportunity.

Extremely flexible.

Names and talks to his his personal weapons.

Gets uncomfortable in places with no windows.

Dark sense of humor.

Personality:

Charming, Honest, Ruthless, Punctual, Brave, Loyal, Elegant, Brutal, Forgetful, Resilient,Driving,  Headstrong, Dangerous, Rustic, Elusive, Unfathomable, Objective, Aggressive, Distant, Sadistic, Ashamed, Just,  Earthy, Honorable, Erratic, Self-Contained, Depressive, Tainted, Unlucky, Sarcastic,  Moralistic, Tense, Light Hearted, Casual,

Likes:  Taking care of his family, Adventure, Tigers, Gothic Literature, Botany, Mathematics, Cats, Science, Technology, Philosophy, Weapons, Peace and Quiet, Taking care of the people he loves, Protecting Others, Captain America,

Dislikes: Goldfish, Hydra, Centaurs, Winter, Jack o'Lanterns, Vampire Hunters, Shoes, Television Comedies, Politics, Performance Arts, The Guilt of what he’s done, Steve getting them into trouble,

Fears:  Deep Water, Windowless Rooms, Being Trapped, explosions, Extreme Heat, Strange Noises or any noises at all in the middle of the night, Being held Captive.

Personality Tests:  ESTP/INTJ-T, Type 8 The Challenger, Type 7 The Enthusiast, Type 5 The Investigator, 8w7,

Other: Pisces, Tropes,

Spouses:  N/A

Children:  One or more.

Significant Other: N/A

Parent(s):

-> Father: George M. Barnes

-> Mother: Winifred C. Barnes 

Sibling(s):  Rebecca P Barnes, Evelyn Harlee Barnes, Harrison Douglas Barnes

Starters

Chat’s

Para’s

Face

Stuff

Information

Asks

All

                                                                             Alternate Universes

[traincat]

"#it's really amazing how i don't hate mechanized/armored spider-man suits when Peter Makes Them Himself" wow u REALLY hit the nail of why i don't like any of the iron spider suits directly on the head

The way the MCU has used the Iron Man-created Spider-Man suits kind of astounds me because I thought that in 616′s Civil War the message behind the Iron Spider suit was pretty clear – that while it might be easier to have a more technologically adept, mechanized super-suit rather than a costume that is, you know, just cloth, in allowing someone else to create his costume, Peter gives away some of Spider-Man’s autonomy. He stops acting as independently, making his own decisions as clearly. And that, despite what the intentions may be from any and all parties involved, when Peter stops acting independently, Bad Things Happen For Him. And that’s how things start to go badly for Peter during the Civil War event, by him compromising his autonomy and not thinking clearly about his decisions. And I think Civil War and the Spider-Man issues that tie into it are very clear about the Iron Spider suit not being a good thing for Peter:

(Avengers: The Initiative #7)

So it’s troubling to me how the MCU has completely twisted that narrative by giving Peter the Iron Man-created Spider-Man suit back at the end of Homecoming and by putting him in the more armored costume in Infinity War instead in having him realize he needs to make his own costume to cement himself as independent within his identity, which is, even if that is the direction they ultimately end up going, something I strongly feel needed to be established within the MCU’s first Spider-Man movie. And it wasn’t. There’s a reason costumes are important in superhero stories. Look at Into the Spider-Verse’s amazing scene where Miles’ leap of faith is intercut with him taking the Spider-Man costume and making it his own through his art. The costume and the creation of it tells you about the superhero in question, it informs who they are, and Into the Spider-Verse’s scene beautifully demonstrates that. And I think it’s great that Marvel has so many different heroes, including some who don’t have super powers of their own but instead give themselves powers through invention, but the key is they have to give themselves those powers. Tony Stark built the Iron Man armor; it wasn’t given to him, and it wasn’t taken away when a character who was never, in the source material, an honest authority figure to him deemed him unworthy, and then given to him again. He built it. It’s his. The same with Riri Williams in the comics; she built her armor. And by taking the creation of the Spider-Man costume away from Peter, the MCU takes that power and that identity away from him. And why?

“Get a glimpse at Spider-Man’s new suit from Tony Stark’s Worldwide Engineering Brigade! See it soon as Disney Parks,” tweeted Marvel Entertainment this morning, to which I would like to say: I called it. Giving the suit power – rather than giving Spider-Man the powers – makes it easier for an audience to project themselves into the role of the young ingenue who, gosh, just wants to be an Avenger. If the suit has the power, and if anyone can wear the suit, and if you don’t even have to create the suit yourself – well, that’s easy, then, isn’t it? Those are much easier shoes to step into than those of a man who sews his own cloth costume and has been burdened by responsibility much bigger than the average man for a decade and a half, who supports himself through his talents and still struggles to make ends meet. And then there’s another angle to this announcement: “New parks attraction allows recruits to ‘suit up’ alongside Spider-Man.” I’ve bolded the word “recruits” in the article because it feels very deliberate to me. If you go to an amusement park, you’re a guest. But in this attraction, you’re a recruit. I’ve talked before about how I felt like Spider-Man: Homecoming had a distinctly military edge to it subliminally: the super-suit Peter didn’t create, the weaponization of it, the drones, the soothing female on board computer voice, the “intimidation” and “instant kill” modes, the entire concept of Peter needing to “earn” a status by working his way up the ranks. There’s been a lot of interesting talk recently about the relationship between Captain Marvel and the military – if not in the actual film, then in how the film was advertised, with videos of the cast interacting with Air Force officials and the Air Force’s twitter account tweeting a video about the film’s “inspiring” nature for little girls. The relationship between Hollywood and the military is well-documented, so I don’t need to go into that, but one of the things to take into account is, despite how in-universe story elements shouldn’t be exploited for military recruitment, as a character, Carol Danvers does have a relationship to the military. That’s part of her story and her character. The use of Spider-Man – a vigilante, first and foremost, someone who takes the responsibility to protect people upon himself without rank or role, who may in recent years have become associated heavily with the Avengers but who had such a long and independent career in comics, a character who has plots where he openly criticizes and yells at immigration officials, where he breaks laws, a character whose origin story is grounded in his family being the victim of gun violence – in military propaganda really bothers me. “Recruits can suit up like Spider-Man.” Recruits? Yeah, okay.

But that brings me back to the Spider-Man PS4 suits and how, even though there are technological elements in the suit, they don’t bother me. (Okay, the spider-bot drone thing kind of bothers me, but I also just find its missions deeply grating.) And that’s because Peter makes those suits himself, which sets them completely apart from the Iron Spider suit in 616 or the suits featured in the MCU. The armored suit he makes to take down the game’s finale villain is deeply rooted in the personal relationships Peter’s fostered within the game and Peter’s deeply personal stake in taking the final boss down, and the use of that specific technology demonstrates that. It’s personal and he makes it himself; he claims every inch of that creation and that victory. And then afterwards he goes back to his regular suit (in the story, at least, and discounting the gameplay element that allows the player to switch suits as just a fun gameplay element) – because the armored suit isn’t better than his regular one in his eyes. It just served the purpose that he made it for. And that’s how it should be. 

[mcyslarb]

CHARACTER INTRODUCTION

THE BASICS

NAME/NICKNAMES: May Parker

ALIAS: “Aunt May”

AGE: 50

PREFERRED PRONOUNS: She/Her

AFFILIATION: #teamspiderman (or, at this point #teamspiderpeople)

FACECLAIM: Paget Brewster

THE DETAILS

FAMILY: Her parents are deceased, she doesn’t have any siblings (that she knows of) and they lost Ben circa pre-Civil War, I believe. All in all, it’s mostly always just been her and Peter. What’s more of a dream team, anyways?

THREE FAVORITE THINGS: Thai food, denim jackets and her #1 nephew.

EDUCATION: A college graduate who spent more time looking cool than studying but she got by, thank you very much.

SKILLS: Being a kickass aunt is a skill. She can also get wine stains out of white dresses, knows pretty much all of Stevie Nicks’ discography, once tied a cherry stem with her tongue and was a two-time ‘if you can get it all, it’s free’ champion at some local diner.

WEAPONS: Just her lowkey fists of fury, huh.

ABILITIES: N/A (the stellar BS detector isn’t universally recognized, unfortunately)

THE QUESTIONNAIRE

IN THE LAST YEAR SINCE THANOS WAS DEFEATED, WHAT HAS YOUR CHARACTER BEEN DOING?

All in all, rebuilding her life and attempting to keep some semblance of normality and stability in Peter's life. The usual stuff, y'know. A roof, a curfew(ish), at least three meals a day that include some sorta vegetable. A lot of pretending that she knows what she's doing in the face of the world literally crumbling and then spitting everyone back out like it was nothing. No big, just another manic Monday in NYC. May's always been pretty good at rolling with the punches. Before Peter's parents died, she was more than settled on being the Cool AuntTM to the absolute max. She was going to sneak Peter his first beer, let him drive her car, not embarrass him when he brought a date around for family dinner but things changed, obviously.

So she rolled with it. Being so suddenly in the know and in the center of things though, she definitely felt a big need to actually do something. Be proactive. Help people; it’s what Peter did, it's what Ben would have done. Despite the lack of super-juju, she did her part where she could helping those whose lives were totally messed up by the ole snap-a-roo.

May absolutely insisted on knowing all the information she could afterwards too. I mean, remember when her kid literally went to space without calling? Yeah, samesies.

WHAT HAS YOUR CHARACTER LEARNED IN THE AFTERMATH OF THANOS, HIS SNAP AND EVENTUAL DEFEAT?

May already had her fair share of experience when it came to grief. She'd known loss, she already knew that permanence wasn't real and you could do every little thing right and still end up heart broken. You never know what the day is going to bring. But this was...a lot. In a way she was weirdly grateful that she'd at least dusted too because being left behind knowing that Peter was gone? That would have been one loss too much. Knowing that she was supposed to have protected him and that she had, undeniably, failed in that? It would have been heartbreaking.

Actually, it still kinda was. Even though they all came back, even though the heroes won and the bad guy was defeated, she still felt as if she had failed. You want the best for your loved ones, you want to keep them safe but what was she was meant to do in the face of something like that? I mean, sure, if she had been there... She definitely would have taken a swing at Thanos for even looking at Peter wrong but that's just the point: she wasn't there and that stuck with her. She was probably a lot more overprotective, insisted on almost constant communication and may have had a small, minor cry over a burnt lasagne (but, like, it wasn't about the lasagne).

Still, there is hope, isn't there? Even in the face of what, for her, was the literal end of the world... There was hope. There had been some wild solution to fix everything, even if it had come at a price. Despite the worst of odds, they still got saved. That was something at least, you know?

THE SAVAGE LANDS IS A NEW AND DANGEROUS PLACE, HOW IS YOUR CHARACTER COPING WITH THE NEW ENVIRONMENT?

Nope. Nope, nope, nope--- no, thank you. She's been a city gal her whole life, hasn't even been on a camping trip so there's no way she's happy about being landed in...wherever the hell this is. Knowing her luck, this will definitely be more Jurassic Park than Land Before Time, you know? If she can make it through the literally day without being eaten, then we can talk.

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:

Headcanons;

May was the leather pants clad, motorcycle riding, tattoo her parents never found out about having kinda gal who you never would have imagined Ben Parker to end up marrying. Mostly because, well, she'd said on multiple occasions she wasn't the marrying type- unless there was some kinda Elvis impersonator involved. They were best friends since high school though, even went to the same college and just when she thought she couldn't handle having another bad boyfriend (or girlfriend), he finally fessed up about his F-E-E-L-I-N-G-S. The rest was, as they say, history.

Definitely felt too young to be a mom. Well, guardian. Aunt with responsibility. May had never considered kids before and she was scared to death when they first took Peter in. Ben was perfect as always and yes, she'd literally loved that little kiddo since the day he'd been born but it was still scary. What if she forgot to pick him up from school and he joined a biker gang? What did kids even eat? Did she really have to say things like 'do your homework' and 'eat your larb' outloud? Needless to say it all worked out in the end but despite faking it 'til she made it, she was 100% freaking out, lowkey, at the time.

Never dated for a long time after Ben. She showed up to a few dates (online dating... Way scarier stuff than raising a kid) but often ended up bailing or ghosting before they could even show up. Even now it still feels kinda off. Sure, she'll flirt and she has a beating heart but as for epic, true, soulmate, matching tattoo love? She feels like she had it. Done, dusted (poor wording) and that's just...how it is. No big.

Read a ton of blogs about how to handle raising a teenage boy and felt very confident in all she had to say, however ridiculous. Lucky she and Peter have always had a really open and honest relationship. She's always wanted him to feel like he could talk to her about anything. They were a team and it'd always be them against the world, no matter how weird things got.

Loves a two-tone double denim look! Loves some high-waisted jeans. Absolutely adores literally anything with stripes and she shan't be stopped. Always looks great, let's be honest.

Looks like a cinnamon, really is a cinnamon roll...until you try and mess with her spidernephew.

[patiencetaught]

💍 + Clyde x Jenny (hypothetically)

wedding headcanons for @daggermechanic | accepting

This is for their verse where they met when he was younger. Because tbh, I doubt he’d marry her in any other verse…

where they get married: I think we talked about this, but I see it very likely that they kind of just do a courthouse wedding.

when they get married ( ie what time of day, what month and season etc. ): Uh...I could kinda see it happening in late spring? Like, June? Sometime in early to mid-afternoon.

what traditions they include ( do they get married under a chuppah and crush a glass, garter toss, ‘something borrowed, something blue,’ etc. ): Because their wedding is so lowkey (and non-traditional), I doubt they do most of the traditions that really come with a wedding. He teases her about the garter toss and she definitely wears one, but that’s more for his benefit than anyone else’s, so she’s not tossing it anywhere. He definitely carries her over the threshold when they get back to the apartment, but I don’t really see it being much more extensive than that. Like I said, it’s lowkey. 

what their wedding cake looks like: A lil’ homemade cake for the two of them and the like, three other people they invite. She gets a wedding cake topper just ‘cause, but it’s nothing really special. Something like this?

….who smashes cake into whose face: Jenny does it first and he definitely follows because she started it

who proposed to who first: Hard to say. I mean, Clyde did the formal proposing, but I feel like Jenny might have brought it up to him before that?

who walks down the aisle and who waits at the altar ( or neither ): Neither. Again, courthouse wedding.

what their wedding dresses / suits / other look like: Jenny’s dress is gonna be pretty simple and pretty. It’ll be white, but it probably won’t be a full-on wedding dress. Probably something like this. As for Clyde, I don’t really know? I could see him renting a suit or borrowing one because it’s his wedding and like...it’ll make his wife happy. But I don’t think he’d be super caught up on how it looked. So, it would probably just be like, a nice pair of pants, a dress shirt, a sports coat, and a tie. Likely in black. 

what their wedding colour scheme is and what sort of decor they have: Lmao. There’s no real coordination, given so little is done in terms of decorations. Things are mostly in white and black with random pops of color, like his tie or her flowers. Nothing terribly organized.

what flowers are in the bouquet ( if applicable. bonus: what do the flowers mean? ): uh...sunflowers, probably. Wildflowers in general. 

what their vows are ( eg poetry, traditional, improvised etc. ): Improvised. Well, less improvised for her, but it’s nothing terribly formal. They might not even do them at the courthouse, but maybe they end up doing it between the two of them once they were alone. I’m not totally sure. 

if anyone’s late to the wedding: Nope! 

who’s in the bridal parties / groomsmen / other: Uh...not really applicable.

what their bridal party / groomsmen / other are wearing: See above.

who gives speeches at the reception ( bonus: what do they say? recount a sweet memory or two between them? tell an embarrassing story? ): I don’t really think anyone would give a speech, given that the ceremony would be so small and neither of them really have a wedding party. They’re not really that kind of couple.

who catches the bouquet( s ): A poor clerk at the courthouse who was not even involved, Jenny’s aim is just terrible.

what their wedding photos are like ( are they sweet, with the couple holding hands or kissing or ~gazing into each others eyes~? are they silly, with a snapshot of the ‘cake-smash’ moment? or are they artistic, with one of them facing the sunset or holding their bouquets? ): I honestly just think Jenny would get a friend who does photography on the side to take their pictures? So, I don’t really feel like there would be lots of them to begin with. But, I feel that most of them would be sweet because these two are disgustingly in love. Just, him kissing her on the cheek or holding her or just?? Lovin’ on his girl. 

what sort of food they have at the reception: Something that Jenny cooked beforehand. Probably pasta or chicken with a fruit salad and a veggie platter. I’m telling you...lowkey.

who cries first during the ceremony: Do you want to guess?

how wild their reception gets ( who dances the best, who gets drunk first, etc. ): lmao, not wild at all. They probably have some of her work friends over for some food and drinks and cake, but I doubt it’s anything wild. Everyone is probably gone before seven in the evening. And they just sort of spend the rest of the evening together.

what their rings are like: Nothing wild. I could kind of see her putting him in charge of it because she thinks he’ll be able to pick out a set that he likes easier than she will? As a result, he probably picks something lovely and dainty for his lovely and dainty bride, with something a little bit more masculine for him? Ballpark, something like this or this? (Bonus: He proposes with his mother’s engagement ring)

what sort of favours they have ( heart shaped sparklers, mini champagne bottles, personalised candy etc. ): N/A

where they go for their honeymoon: A little cabin at one of the state parks. Nothing fancy, but a vacation from work and responsibilities, which is welcomed by them both.

something memorable that happens during the party / ceremony ( do they run out of ice and someone goes to get it in full formal wear on foot, does anyone fall asleep in the middle of the party, etc. ): Not really? Nothing was super eventful except for Clyde thinking he might have lost the rings. But he didn’t tell Jenny that until afterwards. So, nothing crazy in the moment. 

who officiates the ceremony: Civil ceremony officiant. Probably a judge or a clerk.

what song their first dance is to:  Okay, but I bet they just look through Jenny’s record collection and they try to pick one together because they didn’t think this far ahead when they were planning. Probably went with something classic. Sinatra, maybe?

who gives who away as they walk down the aisle: N/A

[unknown-de-mordor-blog]

Plot Bunny: Steampunk + Reverse!Pride&Prejudice SNS

Summary: Once the Industrial Revolution hits, the old aristocratic families are reeling from the shift in financial power going from them to the moguls of the steam age, middle-class and upper-middle class families who are now running the economy of the country with their companies and their factories. 

The Uzumaki, old as they are, becomes an exception as their heiress Kushina is married to one of the greatest inventor of the era, Namikaze Minato. Their investment in what becomes a technological empire means they’re destined to thrive in the new age. And so, it’s not a surprise that the return of their son Uzumaki Naruto from his three-year-long grand tour causes a riot in the high society. Now at the marriageable age, he’s the hottest catch in their social circle, not that Sasuke cares. The Uchiha has only male children, so it’s not like they can enter the race as a gambit to secure the family’s financial status and prestige.

That is until they clap eyes on each other on the dance floor. Sasuke certainly isn’t prepared for having Naruto interfering with his life.

Detail:

The background for this story is more fantasy than actual England, Industrial Revolution or otherwise, so you can go a little crazy with the world-buildings. The clan politics, classism, and social conventions, however, is heavily inspired by Edwardian England (or at least as much as I understand it), except for Minato marrying into the Uzumaki. That’s more a Japanese thing. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a big European family doing it this way, but I might be wrong.

The reason I said it’s reversed Pride and Prejudice is because I’ve always seen Naruto as Elizabeth Bennet and Sasuke as Mr. Darcy, but Mr. Darcy here is not the desirable one in the social circle or the one with a lot of money. Just a guy with a bad personality.

Minato is the Elon Musk + Thomas Edison of the story. Kakashi handles the business side of things for him. Kushina is the mastermind behind the PR and organizes all the social events, fundraising or otherwise, as she’s more aware than her husband how all these things work. (Let’s be honest, Minato would be a dork.)

Although Minato and Kushina’s marriage is beneficial for the Uzumaki family, it’s actually a love-match, which inevitably influences Naruto’s perspective about love and marriage as well.

Naruto went on a grand tour with Jiraiya, who’s kind of an Oscar Wilde figure -- smart, scandalous, and a sharp-tongue writer satirizing the upper-class. They hate him but can’t do anything about it because of Lady Tsunade’s patronage. He is even rumoured to be her lover.

Senju is one of the oldest and previously most influential clan, but they’re very close to dying out. Tsunade’s still held in high-regard in the high society, though. She’s also Naruto’s godmother.

A grand tour is traditionally about exposing the young heirs to sophistication. Naruto’s, though, also involves slumming it with the middle and working class since Minato is from a middle-class family and doesn’t want his son to get too used to the affluent people. He also wants Naruto to understand the responsibility he has towards people working for their family.

Minato and Fugaku are good friends despite their socially disparate standing. He might not look like it, but Fugaku is actually quite progressive and is more open to the ‘new-money’ families. But he’s terrible when it comes to understanding how business are run and what markets are, so he’s a bit of a fish out of water with them.

Itachi is actually the first in the Uchiha family to break tradition and work outside in a company. This is a very controversial move for an old-blood, and the high society gives him so much shit for it. Itachi basically isn’t welcome in their gathering. Fugaku is understanding, although he doesn’t fully approve of the decision since it means his son, who’s a person of high blood, is being bossed around by technically a nobody.

As a result of Itachi turning radical, Fugaku tries to train Sasuke up to lead the family instead. Mikoto even tries to set her son up with Karin, who is Kushina’s niece. Karin is open to the match, but Sasuke isn’t really interested. He’s considering it for the family, though.

So they are kind of ‘dating,’ as in meeting each other in social events and are dancing partners (Edwardian-style, not a lot of touching -- waltz is waaaay too scandalous here). Sasuke can’t really quite keep up with her energy, so she’s also dancing with other people, most notably Houzuki Suigetsu, who’s from a new-money family.

Suigetsu gets quite a bit of shit from the upper-class, but he’s a ruthless psychopath, so he doesn’t give a fuck. Sasuke doesn’t know if he likes him or not, since Suigetsu never tries to kiss his ass because of his family name. If anything, the guy’s pretty open to Sasuke including his interest in Karin.

Which means, Sasuke’s been pressured to make it official with Karin and propose.

But then Naruto saunters into the ballroom, and everything changes.

Naruto and Sasuke were actually childhood friends since both their families are friends, but Naruto was sent to a boarding school for further education when he was thirteen while Sasuke studied under his tutor Orochimaru at home. So they lost contact and became estranged.

They actually hate each other at first sight in that ballroom. Naruto thinks Sasuke is arrogant. Sasuke thinks Naruto is frivolous. They have a little public spat that becomes the hottest gossip of the social circle.

They also keep meeting each other because of their families, their social commitments, and because of Sasuke’s supposed courtship with Karin, which Naruto disapproves of because he can see that Sasuke doesn’t love her and is only considering the marriage out of duty. He even confronts Sasuke about it.

Sasuke counters that marrying for love is a naive and irresponsible idea. Kushina and Minato’s marriage wouldn’t have been approved of if it hasn’t benefit both families. Naruto takes offense to that comment. Sasuke is firm in his belief and won’t apologize for it.

In his worry for his cousin’s happiness, Naruto keeps crashing Sasuke and Karin’s meetings, picking a fight with Sasuke whenever he could. And because of all the verbal sparring, they become close again, and Karin turns more and more into the third-wheel.

Putting Karin first is also an excuse for Naruto to ignore his own onslaught of suitors. He hates being the prize of the social rat-race and having to make civil conversations with girls who are set up by their families to meet him and try to seduce him. He knows some of them finds him underwhelming and annoying in person but are putting up with him because they need to.

Sasuke mocks him for having a first-class problem, and Naruto lets him because it is.

Naruto and Sasuke get so wrapped up in each other that they have no idea Suigetsu is now making aggressive moves, until Karin actually elopes with him.

This is devastating to everyone, and especially so to the Uzumaki family. Naruto blames it on himself for interfering while Sasuke tries to talk him out of it. They become each other’s emotional support and only realize then how they really, really, really, really like each other.

Sasuke stays with the Uzumaki family and basically lead the search for Karin and Suigetsu, which Naruto is very grateful for.

But at this point Karin’s reputation is in tatter and any chance of saving it lies in her marrying Suigetsu, but everyone knows that is what Suigetsu wants to begin with. Naruto is very frustrated by this since Karin’s reputation is clearly used as a leverage for Suigetsu to gain ally for himself and his family, and Naruto hates that.

Sasuke is actually the one going in to talk to Suigetsu and Karin and find some compromise. It becomes clear to him then that the two have fallen in love while Sasuke isn’t looking, and Karin chooses to elope because she thinks the family is going to pressure her to break up with Suigetsu to marry Sasuke.

Sasuke admits to her then that she’s more a sister to him and he has no romantic interest in her. He fully supports her choice, but the three of them have to come up with a plan to lessen the damage somehow.

Naruto is actually surprised that Sasuke is willing to help Karin marry for love. He’s even willing to shoulder some blames and lies if it means the Uzumaki will officially accept the marriage and give it a blessing. Karin and Suigetsu, though, do have to skip town afterwards so that they won’t get caught up in the scandal in person. It’s also a way of clearing up the rumour that Suigetsu is only marrying Karin for the Uzumaki connection and money. Suigetsu is honestly not that desperate. And he is going to have his own thing, Uzumaki’s help or not.

Naruto and Sasuke have a chat afterwards about the whole thing where Naruto tries to ask what changes Sasuke’s mind about the marrying-for-love thing. Sasuke ends up confessing that the reason he can’t bring himself to believe he can marry for love is because he’s gay, and so he can never fulfill his duty for his family and have his love at the same time. But he doesn’t wish that kind of choice on other people, so he’s happy that Karin and Suigetsu turn out okay.

Naruto mentions then that there are places in the world that people don’t have to make that choice and can just be with whomever they love, and from that line of conversation trying to hint really hard that he really, really, really, really likes Sasuke and really, really, really wants to go visit those places with him.

Sasuke kind of says yes.

[chibinightowl]

The Adventures of Sir Timothy Drake

Link to Chapter Three

Chapter Four: The Realization

It took them the better part of a week to finally leave Jason’s lair, mostly because of the dragon’s inability to settle on which books he refused to leave behind during his sojourn in what he’s taken to calling the human lands. Tim jokingly referred to it as his exile, which wasn’t far off the mark as far as he was concerned. No one in their right minds should want marry him just for his brain, but Jason stubbornly insisted otherwise.

When the dragon groused about leaving the cave unattended for so long, Tim’s blithe response about no one using his books for anything other than kindling during a cold winter did not go over well, leaving Jason huffing smoke for several hours afterwards, effectively driving Tim out of the cave to fend for himself one night. It had been worth it, getting under Jason’s skin and seeing him pout like some maiden whose favorite trinket had been threatened.

The night before they planned to leave, Tim curled up in one of the plush armchairs, the book by the elvish healer Jason recommended (and unerringly found the day after he mentioned it) in his lap. An elvish grammar was tucked in next to him, which the dragon had also dug up for him after he admitted elvish was not a language he spoke or read well. Jason didn’t judge him for it though, other than stating that was another crime, and so they spent the better part of two days rectifying it.

His reading was slow, but utterly fascinating. He was also comfortably warm, the lighting perfection, and a goblet of mulled wine sat on a small side table next to him. It was the epitome of comfort and already, Tim mourned the loss. At least month of hard travel lay before them, the first stretch of it on foot as Jason didn’t have a horse. They’d discussed Tim riding ahead and Jason flying (flying!) after him a few days later, but the dragon didn’t seem particularly pleased with the thought of letting him out of sight.

Tim chalked it up to being part of Jason’s hoard now, a new and shiny bauble to play with.

A warm hand ruffled his hair and he looked up to see the dragon standing behind him. “Are you done packing, then?” he asked, closing his book.

“As much as I can be,” Jason replied, trailing his fingers down through Tim’s hair to cradle the side of his face. Tim leaned into it, enjoying the easy touch. The dragon was extremely tactile and for someone as touch starved as him, he welcomed the simple affection. “I think you’re right and that I’ll take little trips back here whenever it gets to be too much.”

Tim’s eyes danced in delight. “Did you just admit that I’m right about something?”

“Don’t get used to it.” Jason tapped the tip of Tim’s nose and removed his hand, striding around the chair to take a seat in the one opposite of him. “Are you going to bring those with?” he asked, gesturing to the books.

“Only if they’re ones you’re willing to risk outside.” Tim had learned that there were some books that Jason flat out refused to ever let see the light of day again, old and rare tomes that were so delicate to touch that he wore special gloves and used tweezers to turn the pages when reading. Tim had been enthralled by these and dutifully wore the gloves Jason gave him when he showed him one. The illuminated pages of the manuscript were some of the most beautiful he’d ever seen. His current reading material certainly wasn’t in that category, but there were others that the dragon simply didn’t want to leave the cave.

“The grammar is fine,” Jason replied after a moment’s thought. “Those are easy to find and, to be honest, I’m still surprised I even had it. The other one…” he stared a while longer, blue eyes growing darker the longer he remained silent.

“It’s all right,” Tim said, setting the healer’s book aside. “I’m not that far into it.” He wished he could read it faster, he really did, but the language was slow going, which was a shame because what he’d read so far was utterly fascinating. Who knew that the brain was capable of so much?

Jason surprised him though when he shook his head. “No, bring it. You’re enjoying it and I can smell your disappointment from here. I’ve got a special cloth I can wrap it in to protect it from dust and keep it dry if it rains.”

“Thank you.” It meant a lot that the dragon trusted him with one of his prized possessions. “I’ll make sure to take good care of it.”

“I know you will.”

The next morning, Jason sealed his cave and they were on their way. Tim wasn’t entirely sure how it was done, but there was magic involved, he could tell that much. Once the cave was secure, Jason put his human glamor on. His argument was that this close to his lair, he didn’t want to risk anyone putting two and two together. The air around him shimmered, light bending and refracting into little rainbows before it settled, leaving the dragon without his horns, dark nails, or his glowing eyes.

Tim sighed quietly because he liked those horns and loved what Jason did when he gripped them just right. But this wasn’t about his preferences, it was about Jason’s, so he shoved those thoughts to the side and studied the all too human looking eyes gazing back at him in amusement. “They’re still the same shade of blue,” he finally said. “I’m glad.”

Jason smirked, cocksure and comfortable now that his true self was hidden away. “Aw, are you becoming smitten with my eyes?”

“Amongst other things,” Tim admitted. It was hard not to be, especially after spending so much time with the man. Jason loved to tell stories but he also had a knack for drawing Tim out of his shell, asking questions about his life and his own studies, such as they were.

“I got lucky in the looks department, I know.” Jason teased and shrugged his massive shoulders. His tattoos were on full display as his choice of travel gear included a sleeveless version of the same black and red jacket he’d worn the night they met.

“Oh, so that’s not an illusion either?”

Jason threw a small rock at him, which Tim ducked while trying not to laugh. It was all too easy to rile the dragon up sometimes.

Tim’s lovely Robin was laden down with books and two small chests of nearly priceless treasures the dragon deemed insignificant enough to part with in return for Tim’s freedom. “I hope you’re worth it,” Jason joked, watching as the final straps were tied into place. “I didn’t think I’d have to pay this kind of bride-price for you.”

The mare did not look happy about being a beast of burden and Tim patted her nose soothingly. “Think of it this way,” he replied as they started down the faint trail, heading away from the cave. “You’ll be getting a massive dowry from me. And, when I die, all of these things will be coming back to you. I’ll make sure of it.”

Something in what he said had the dragon huffing smoke before the man looked away. Tim had finally realized it was a behavior of Jason’s that only came about when he was agitated. It was something he filed away to ponder over later. Mortality was a concept he had more than made his peace with, even in the short span of his life. The war changed his perspective on death, after seeing how easy it was to extinguish even a single life and made Tim cherish it that much more. It was small wonder King Bruce only went to war when he had no other choice.

Apparently wasn’t something Jason thought much about, beyond abstract terms perhaps. The stories said dragons were ancient creatures, possibly even products of a bygone era. Tim knew this not to be true after Jason informed him he was rather young for a dragon. No longer a juvenile, but he was still working through what it meant to be an adult dragon. Others considered him brash and impulsive, to which Tim had to roll his eyes because no, that couldn’t be his Jason at all.

It took them six days to reach the large town on the edge of what Tim thought of as the human lands. The country beyond was considered wild and inhospitable, perfect for a dragon who wanted to be alone but still craved companionship. As they approached the wall considered by most to be the divide between civilized lands and not, it became clear just how backwards his beliefs on that concept was. Just because something didn’t conform to his expectations, did not automatically make it uncouth. He cast a glance over at Jason, who somehow managed to walk and read at the same time, and smiled. His mother would be having a conniption fit of epic proportions when he arrived home with the outspoken dragon.

Tim couldn’t wait to see it.

“Hey,” he said, trying to get the dragon’s attention. “We’re here.” On this side of the wall, there was next to no traffic on the road.

“Finally,” Jason sighed and closed his book with a snap. He rustled around in one of Robin’s many bags to put it away. “I want a bath and a place to put my feet up, not necessarily in that order.”

“Agreed. I stayed at the Everyman when I passed through before and enjoyed it well enough. You have any preferences?” Tim knew this was not Jason’s first visit. As the closest population of any kind in these parts, it was where the dragon often sought refuge from his boredom. The town was predominantly human, but he’d observed halfings and some dwarves last time.

“They’ve got the best ale on tap,” Jason replied with a grin. “I’ve been there more than once.”

The inn was their first stop and the while old innkeeper greeted them both enthusiastically, he directed Jason to the taproom right away to put his feet up. It left Tim to deal with unloading Robin. The inn was rather small and while there was a stable boy, there wasn’t a porter. Not that he minded all that much as there was some rather precious cargo aboard his mare and he didn’t want just anyone handling it.

As soon as everything was unloaded, Robin’s eye-roll of relief made Tim laugh. He rubbed her velvety nose. “I know. You didn’t like that at all. You’re a warhorse, not a pack mule.”

“Seriously, do you always talk to her like that?” Jason asked, coming out the back door and into the small courtyard with a tall mug of ale in his hand.

“Who else do I have to talk to?” Tim replied. “Besides you.” He handed the reins over to the waiting stable boy. “No biting,” he warned his mare.

Jason already had one of the chests balanced on his hip and a bag of books slung over his shoulder, all without spilling a drop. “I’ve arranged for our room. Follow me.”

“Our room?” Tim questioned as he picked up his bundles and the other chest. His chainmail weighted everything down, but he refused to wear it when there wasn’t a need to.

“Yes, our room,” Jason repeated, holding the door open for Tim. “You didn’t think I was gonna let all this stuff out of my sight, did you?” It was implied that the dragon considered him part of that stuff.

Tim didn’t want to even try and answer that question as he followed Jason down the short hallway and up the back staircase. “You seem pretty well known around here. What do you pass yourself off as?”

“An itinerant mage,” the man replied, shrugging his broad shoulders. He opened the door to one of the inn’s three rooms. “It’s not like anyone this rural would know better, and it explains the odd smoke I can’t help. When I get bored, even the company of humans is better than none at all.”

“Is that typical of dragons?” It was something Tim had been wondering about. He set the chest down on the floor and lowered the other bag of books even more carefully on top of it. His own gear he dropped without a second thought.

The room wasn’t huge, but there was a large bed taking up most of it. A chest of drawers rested against the far wall and a water pitcher and basin sat atop it. The sole window looked out over the small courtyard at the back of the inn.

“No, not really,” Jason admitted sheepishly, setting his burdens down on the bed. He took a sip from his ale before he continued. “We’re solitary by nature, until we find our mate.”

Tim wanted to ask more questions but bit his cheek to keep the barrage back as Jason was clearly uncomfortable with the topic. He felt he should say something though. “Well, if you do happen to find them while we’re married, I will of course release you from our vows. You should be with the person…dragon…that you love.”

The dragon gave him an unreadable look but didn’t say anything.

“Well, we still need to go get your horse,” Tim prodded, changing the subject. He stretched and eyed the bed, wishing there was time for a quick nap. The afternoon sun would soon fade into evening and as much as he wished they could linger for a day, they needed to be back on the road in the morning.

“No, you need to get my horse,” Jason replied pointedly. “I know precisely dick about them, aside from the fact they’re good eating.”

Tim narrowed his eyes. “You are not eating this horse when we get home.”

“You sure about that?” Jason grinned toothily. Even with his glamor in place, they still appeared longer than normal. “Besides, I am not leaving even this little bit of my hoard until I can set up some wards, even if I did get the key to lock up.”

The statement stung a little. “I thought I was part of your hoard? Doesn’t that mean I need to be watched over too?” It slipped out before Tim could stop himself.

Jason set his ale down on the dresser and crossed the room to Tim. He cupped his chin in a large hand and then warm lips were pressed against his own. Tim opened his mouth slightly when the dragon’s questing tongue sought entrance, turning the kiss from chaste to filthy in nothing flat. But that was often the way it was with Jason, his mood like his fire as it flared up and settled back down, stoked until the next time.

Tim blinked rapidly when the dragon finally released him, trying to gather his wits.

The other man looked altogether too pleased with himself. “There. No wandering off on me now, you hear?”

As though that was ever going to be a problem.

A couple hours later, Tim returned to the inn with a large bay gelding and a smaller brown packhorse in tow. New tack for both of them had been purchased and fitted, leaving his purse significantly lighter, for all that Jason had given him the coin to cover everything. He still didn’t like it, but this far from home, his own resources were dwindling.

Gaining the taproom, Tim spotted Jason holding court over by the fireplace. He chuckled at the sight of the locals crowded around him, listening to whatever story he was regaling them with.

Tim caught the attention of the pretty barmaid, a heavy tray balanced in one hand as she deftly wove between the tables. “What’s dinner tonight?”

She gave him an impatient look, eager to return to the story being told across the room. “Venison stew and a loaf of bread.”

“I’ll have that and an ale, please.”

The young woman nodded absently before making her way back to the fireplace.

Tim sat down at an empty table to watch Jason. This was the first time he’d had a chance to observe the dragon around anyone else and his fingers itched for his journal. Jason was, to put it mildly, simply captivating, even with his human glamor on. There was such a strong presence about him, one that drew people in despite the roguish exterior.

It had to be the smile, Tim decided when his dinner arrived.

To his surprise, Jason rose to join him, sitting down heavily across from him. “Did you buy dinner?” he asked with a wink.

“Yes, I did.” Tim pointedly looked down at his bowl. “Did you eat?” He didn’t expect Jason to, but he did have a cover to maintain as a human. How far did that extend?

“Oh, let me get you a bowl, Jason!” the barmaid said, having followed the dragon over to Tim’s table. She smiled, revealing a dimple in her cheek. “I’ll be right back!”

Tim snickered, watching her practically race into the kitchen. “You actually going it eat it?”

“Whatever I don’t choke down is going to you,” Jason replied, making a face at the thought of eating a human meal. “I don’t mind rare meat, but that,” he pointed at the bits of cooked meat floating in gravy along with some summer vegetables, “Is disgusting.”

“The things you do for your character.” Tim didn’t feel bad for him. At all.

Jason’s groan turned into a smile as the young woman brought an extra large bowl filled to the brim with the savory stew and some more bread. She beamed before she was called away to another table. Glowering at the bowl, he muttered, “Meat should be raw and bloody.”

Tim made a mental note to invest in a herd of cattle specifically for Jason when they arrived home. The trouble would be worth it as it would keep the local populace happy and no one could say they’d lost a cow to the dragon’s appetite, such as it was. He’d known him for almost two weeks now and had yet to see a single bite pass his lips. Drink was another matter.

Wine and ale didn’t seem to garner comment and Jason partook of both equally, especially after he ate about half of the stew, dumping the rest into Tim’s bowl when he decided enough was enough. The young woman running between tables didn’t seem to mind topping off his ale at all. Tim was pretty sure it never went below the halfway point the entire time he was eating.

Once the empty bowls were taken away, Jason rejoined the crowd by the fireplace. He started telling another story and flirted shamelessly with all the women in the small crowd, much to their enjoyment and to Tim’s amusement. It reminded him of something Jason had said before they slept together for the first time, about his own preferences. Human women.

Jason had been alone at the inn for a while before Tim returned with the horses. Plenty of time to fool around after setting his protection spells. A flash of jealousy raced through him before he squashed it hard. They were not married. Yet. Until they were wed, Jason could do as he wished. Tim too for that matter, should he have the desire to do so. Besides, he had no right to be jealous of anything the dragon did. Jason had saved his sad excuse for a life and given him the chance to make something of it.

Tim was never going to be able to repay the favor. Not in this life or the next.

From across the room, Jason shot him a concerned look, making Tim force his eyes away from the man. He stood abruptly and tossed a few small coins onto the table. A bath would be great right about now. Nice and private.

He stopped by the bar and made the arrangements with the innkeeper, who said he’d inform his wife right away.

Tim was halfway up the front staircase before he realized he didn’t have the key to their room. He’d have to get it from Jason. And that meant approaching him while he was under the eye of his adoring audience. “Shit,” he cursed under his breath.

“Forget something?”

Turning, Tim saw Jason standing behind him, a couple steps down, and dangling a key from one long finger.

“Thanks.” Tim attempted to take it, but Jason drew it back.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, eyes flashing in the low light of the stairwell.

“Nothing is wrong,” Tim replied. He tried to shrug it off, but it was obvious the dragon wasn’t buying it. “I want a bath and some clean clothes.” Jason should know by now just how fastidious he was and hoped his regular habits would play in his favor.

“Don’t lie to me, Tim. I can smell it.”

Double shit. Since when was this a thing he had to be concerned about? Smelling a lie? How was that possible? He knew dogs could scent emotions to an extent. Was this similar? Tim gave himself a mental shake and forced himself to focus. “I thought I’d give you some alone time,” he stated, trying to sound as matter of fact as possible. “You know, for…whatever. Or whoever.”

There. He said it.

The dragon closed the distance between them, standing on the stair just below Tim to look him directly in the eyes. “Do you want me to?” Jason asked quietly.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” Tim replied, trying to hide his discomfiture. “You’re the one who’s doing me the favor of a lifetime.”

The answer did not satisfy the other man and Jason leaned forward, his all too human eyes still managing to blaze with their intensity. “What you want matters, Tim. You’ve never had the freedom to speak up about it before, but with me, you always will. So tell me, what do you want?”

“I…” Tim didn’t know. The option to choose, to have a say in matters of the heart was not something he was used to having. Realization crashed down on him, bringing with it stunning clarity that Jason truly could give him everything he secretly desired. Acceptance. Companionship. A true partnership of equals.

In that moment, Tim fell in love. And immediately cursed himself because how could a dragon ever return the love of a human? Rather than face those still unearthly blue eyes, he snatched the room key out of Jason’s hand. “I want a bath. I’ll see you later.”

There was a small chamber at the back of the inn where, for a few coins, he could wash up in a small copper tub. The innkeeper’s wife brought several kettles of hot water for him while he filled a few buckets with cold water from the well in the courtyard. She fussed over him and brought him soap and a clean towel to dry with while promising his laundry would be done by morning. He’d spent two days here last time, enjoying the simple hospitality that wasn’t present in larger inns that he could have frequented instead.

“Now, if you need anything, just ring that bell,” she said, pointing to a small cord hanging off to the side.

“I will,” Tim promised and finally shooed her out. He stripped down and lowered himself into the bright tub. The water felt wonderful even if it paled in comparison to Jason’s luxurious bathing chamber. He ducked his head under the water, holding his breath for as long as he could before he came up spluttering.

What was wrong with him? Yes, Tim would freely admit he found Jason attractive. A person would have to be blind not to. He enjoyed what they had between them, shiny and new as it was. But what would it be like next year? Or the year after that? Things he should have thought of before accepting this little offer swarmed through his mind. He’d been so focused on his immediate situation that he lost track of the bigger one.

Tim never once believed he’d ever marry for love. He was of a high enough station his wife would be chosen for him, if his mother ever decided. She’d be furious the choice was taken away from her and that she wouldn’t have someone new to terrorize. Jason wouldn’t stand for it. At all.

And that was the crux of it, he realized. With Jason at his side, anything was possible. Choices that he never had before were now his, including whether or not he wanted to let his betrothed screw around with the barmaid. He shoved that thought out of his head. They’d agreed almost from day one that they would be faithful after their wedding. This was not something he’d take away from him.

Jealousy, Tim decided as he dunked his head under the water again, was an ugly thing.

When he resurfaced, Jason was standing beside the tub staring down at him, the small downward twist of his mouth indicating his displeasure.

“Are you trying to drown yourself? I didn’t think humans could breathe underwater.”

Tim shook his head, brushing back his hair so he could see better. “No, we don’t. I just like to hold my breath. It’s quieter under there.” He blinked some droplets of water out of his eyes. “Did you need something?”

He would not bring up his abrupt dismissal. Not unless Jason did.

The dragon leaned over him, hands grasping the edges of the tub as he moved closer. His nostrils flared slightly, scenting the air, scenting Tim. “You panicked earlier when I asked what you wanted. Why?”

Trust Jason to not beat around the bush. It would be refreshing if it weren’t directed at him. “You startled me,” Tim admitted, trying to hedge. He refused to state the real reason why he left. “I’m not used to being asked what I want.”

That should be safe enough.

Jason’s eyes crinkled, clearly not buying it. “You looked scared about something.” His voice lowered and he cast his gaze down, as uncertainty entered his expression. “Did I scare you?”

Tim sat up in a rush, water spilling over the edge of the tub and on the floor, splashing Jason for all that he paid no notice to it. “No,” he said vehemently. “You didn’t scare me. At all. I’ve never once been scared of you. If I were, do you think we’d have done everything we have together?”

Lazy afternoons spent by the small stream, Jason tracing idle patterns into Tim’s bare skin as they regaled each other with stories of their various adventures. Evenings in the cave sitting in companionable silence with their respective books. And the nights...Tim doubted he’d ever want to share a bed with anyone else, even if he only ever cuddled with Jason ever again.

“You could have forced yourself, thinking it was what I wanted. Humans are capable of that,” Jason tried. He looked utterly miserable at the thought.

Tim grabbed hold of his chin and forced his head up, locking eyes with him. “Yes, people do that. All the time. But I am not one of them. If I wasn’t interested in men, that first bath would have gone a lot differently. You’re attracted to my brain. Well, I’m attracted to the full package.”

Jason searched Tim’s face for a lie, nostrils flaring again as he sought out any trace of untruth. He must have finally believed him as he relaxed. “You’re not the only one who’s attracted to everything too.”

The admission rocked Tim and he sat heavily in the cooling water. “Why? I’m not anything special to look at.”

A snort of amusement followed by puff of smoke was Jason’s first response. “You’re not seeing through my eyes,” he stated once the smoke was under control again. “Standards of beauty change every year it seems but I have my own particular tastes. And while elven men aren’t quite so short, you share many of the same physical characteristics they do.”

Tim bristled. “I’m not that short.” The top of his head was level with Jason’s nose when they were standing upright.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

This time, the splash was on purpose.