#*me screaming at my computer* NO I DO NOT WANT TO JOIN THE MILITARY

[galehautstomb]

life in the top gun fandom is slow progression from “i refuse to do any research on the military for fics” to “knee deep in navy’s history of aircraft carriers trying to figure out home ports so the blorbos can fuck in the canonically correct place” and now your computer is poisoned with recruitment ads

#hELp mE #like i’m 15k in #and it’s not stopping #i have more tabs open on my computer about various aspects of the Gulf War than is appropriate #*me screaming at my computer* NO I DO NOT WANT TO JOIN THE MILITARY #but i would like all your data on scramjets plz #and still this fic is gonna be innacurate #plz know that y’all #top gun #icemav #sereshaw #top gun maverick

[pastelwitchling]

If you're still doing this... can I request a sequel for chapter 12 of part one? @brittz-2123

Sequel to this fic.

***

                For all the enemies Alex had made over the years, some through his military work and most through his fight against Project Shepherd, it was surprisingly difficult to figure out who would want to kill him.

                “Run it by me again,” Eduardo Ramos sighed, eyes closed. “Before you got in the car.”

                “I already told you,” Alex said, rubbing his eyes from where he sat at his desk, his computer open in front of him. He felt like he’d been watching the satellite footage of the bar on a loop, and if he had to watch this cowboy and his girlfriend make out against the back wall one more time . . .

                “No one was watching me, no one lingered in the corners, no one spoke to me. I don’t know anyone that plays tricks like this, if someone wanted to come after me, they’d use a gun or smother me in my sleep. Military or tactful. This feels . . . desperate.”

                “Therein lies the crux of the problem, Alex,” Eduardo said, taking the steel chair beside him, eyes boring into his. “I’d understand a double agent coming after you, and I’d understand a soldier. But this mess,” he shook his head at the photos he’d pulled of Alex’s soaked car seats. “What amateur is trying to hunt you and why?”

                “I don’t know,” Alex murmured, fingers interlocked against his brow. He had a migraine that had been thumping steadily in the inner corner of his right eye for the past fifteen minutes, the first vestiges of dawn peeking out outside his office window.

                And the worst part was that he knew it had very little to do with the attempt on his life and almost everything to do with the way he and Michael had left things several hours ago. He rested his chin on his folded arms and sighed. Did Michael really think so little of him that he thought Alex would fall apart without him?

                And what did that say about Michael? If Alex was supposed to be shattering to pieces, was Michael just fine? Was only Alex supposed to be the one breaking? Was Michael that indifferent to them not being together?

                “All right, what’s going on?” Ramos huffed. “You’ve sighed twice in the last minute alone.”

                “Well,” Alex rested his head on his arms, looking away from him, “someone is trying to kill me.”

                “Yeah, but that’s a normal Tuesday for people like us, isn’t it?” Eduardo dismissed and Alex’s lips quirked despite himself. “I know that look, Alex. I’ve been studying you long before you joined us.”

                “You do realize how creepy that is, right?”

                “I take special interest in my best agents,” he shrugged a shoulder. “And I know everyone’s weak spot here. Yours . . . is Michael Guerin.”

                Alex shut his eyes at the mention of him. “He saved me last night. Got me out of the car. Then proceeded to scream at me for drunk driving. Apparently he thinks he was my only brain cell and since we’re not together, I’m losing my grip on my sanity.”

                Eduardo pursed his lips and nodded wordlessly a moment, then he clicked his tongue. “Someone thinks highly of himself. But he’s not wrong.” Alex looked up at him and he smirked. “Is he?”

                Alex deflated, cheek squished against his forearm. “No,” he murmured. “He’s not. But if I’m dying every day without him, how can he just . . . keep going?” He heaved another sigh and hid his face. “It’s just a real hit to the ego,” he said, voice muffled. “Realizing that I love him more than he loves me. It’s not a great feeling, to be honest.”

                Eduardo chuckled, and Alex felt his hand on his hair, ruffling it. “Oh, son. There might be more here that you’re not seeing.”

                “Yeah?” he grumbled. “Like what?”

                “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’m not Michael, so I couldn’t tell you what he was thinking. But I do know this. I’ve been watching him almost as long as I’ve been watching you, and you know what I noticed?”

                “What?”

                Eduardo smiled at him. “No one watches you like he does.”

                *

                Michael couldn’t sleep after Alex left. He paced instead, eyes drifting to Alex’s car every so often. The seats were soaked in alcohol and he could almost smell them to here, a constant reminder of the night he and Alex had had.

                “If it’s just a part, then why didn’t you show up?”

                The way Alex had looked at him, like Michael was just someone else he’d hoped would love him and ended up betraying him instead. Like he really believed Michael didn’t think much of him.

                He took a swig from his bottle only to find it empty, and sighed, letting it fall onto the sand beside him and rubbing his face. When he’d gotten that call from Alex last night, his heart had felt like it was about to leap out of his chest. He’d almost gotten in his own truck and raced to find him before he could crash, the fear in Alex’s voice still echoing in his head and taunting him over what could’ve happened.

                He thought he was going to die, a voice in his mind told him, and he wanted to talk to you.

                Michael had been all but ready to take him into his arms the second he’d climbed out and kissed every inch of him to make sure he was unharmed. But then he’d smelled the drinks and fear surged like he’d never felt it before. It had settled the day Alex had insisted on staying at Caulfield with him, and turned heavier since the moment he’d confessed to Michael in that bunker that he needed a reason to stay. And once the very idea, no matter how small and unlikely, that Michael had driven Alex—his Alex—to that edge had taken root, it had blossomed into something too frightening for Michael to think past.

                It didn’t matter that he knew Alex was brave, that he was strong. Just a hint of a possibility had been enough to make him shudder and say things he shouldn’t have said. Things that he knew hurt Alex a lot. He smirked bitterly against his palms. It seemed all he did these days was hurt Alex.

                The sound of tires on gravel tugged Michael out of his thoughts and he looked up to find a car parking in front of the junkyard. For a second, he wondered if the driver really was drunk because the sun had just dawned and he himself was far too sleep deprived to have any patience for someone trying to force open the auto shop first thing in the morning.

                But then Alex stepped out of the passenger seat and raised his hand in goodbye to the driver who Michael could see through the open window was none other than his boss, Eduardo Ramos. He stood, staring, not quite believing the scene in front of him. Even as Alex approached him, his shoulders scrunched and his hands in his pockets.

                When he was close enough and before he could speak, Michael blurted, “I—I fixed the brakes, but I can’t get rid of the beer smell. I think you’re better off just getting a new—”

                “I will,” Alex nodded, avoiding Michael’s eyes. “I’m not here for the car.”

                Michael looked him up and down. He had changed out of his clothes from last night, so he didn’t reek of alcohol anymore. Looking at him now, how focused his eyes were even as Michael knew he hadn’t slept a wink either, his anger at Alex for getting in a car while drunk seemed ridiculous now.

                “Why are you here, then?” Michael asked.

                Alex shrugged. “You know that thing Ramos does when I can’t focus and he tells me what he thinks I need?”

                Michael swallowed. For some reason, the idea that Alex was here because his boss had told him to come and not because he’d wanted to see Michael himself left Michael feeling hollow.

                “So you’re here because Ramos ordered you to?”

                “He . . . suggested it,” Alex pursed his lips.

                “Were you allowed to say no?”

                “Sure.”

                Michael glanced at him, then, wanting something to do and somewhere else to look, took his seat again in front of the dying embers. “What can I do for you? The last I saw of you, you didn’t want to be near me.”

                “I always want to be near you,” he confessed, and Michael looked up. “That’s the problem.”

                He smirked bitterly. “Loving me’s a problem now?”

                Alex’s entire body seemed to deflate with exasperation before he took the seat next to Michael’s and interlocked his fingers. “Isn’t it usually a problem,” he asked, rocking restlessly back and forth on his chair, “loving someone who doesn’t love you?”

                Michael clenched his jaw, tapping his thumb on the armrest for a moment before he said, “If you say I don’t love you one more time, Alex, I swear, I’ll split Roswell in half.”

                Alex wouldn’t look at him, but he leaned back in his seat, slumped and staring through the bonfire. “Fine. Maybe you do love me. But not like I love you, and to me, that’s just as bad.”

                “What does that even mean?” Michael demanded, desperate, turning to face him. “That I don’t love you like you love me?”

                “It means that you really thought I would break if we weren’t together,” Alex said, “even when you seemed to be doing okay. It means that you believed I would have nothing left to live for if I didn’t have you, but you didn’t have me and nothing had changed—”

                “I was ready to kill whoever cut your damn brakes!” Michael snapped, and Alex, startled, finally met his eyes. Michael stood. “I was going to hunt them down, Alex! I know you wouldn’t have gotten in the stupid car if you were drunk, but I don’t think straight when it comes to you! I get angry, and—and so scared, and I say things I shouldn’t and I do things I shouldn’t because no matter how freaking smart I am, I’m a complete dumbass when it comes to you! You’re my weak spot, you always have been, don’t you get that?!”

                Alex, wide eyed, stared as Michael panted. Then he stood, shaking his head, a sad look on his face as he said, “I don’t want to be your weak spot. I want to be . . . I want to be the reason you’re strong.”

                The crack in his voice cut through Michael’s angry haze.

                Alex swallowed. “Being who I am . . . and having the life I’ve had . . . you have to cut your heart out for a lot of it. If you want to survive, you can’t feel, you just can’t. But you’re what I fight for, you are. Just knowing you pushes me to lead with my mind and my heart, and no matter what happened to me out there, if I thought of you . . . even if I ever came back to Roswell and you weren’t here, it gave me power.”

                He shook his head, his eyes turning glassy. “And now you’re telling me that instead of giving you that same power . . . I take it away? I wouldn’t have been able to survive without you there, Guerin, and it turns out, you can’t survive because I’m here with you.” His shoulders fell and he whispered, “This is exactly what I mean. Love shouldn’t shackle you down and hurt you, and you always make it feel like that’s what loving me does to you. That’s what I do to you.” Alex shook his head, moving to walk past him. “I won’t do it to you anymore.”

                Michael, shaking, caught his wrist. “Stop it, damn it, just stop leaving me! You think being my weak spot is a bad thing? You’re not my weak spot because your hurt me, Alex, you’re my weak spot because I stop caring about hiding my identity when you’re in danger! I stop thinking right when you need me! My life is nothing but being a disappointment to everyone around me, and I’ve never cared, and sometimes I think that makes me stronger! But . . . damn it, I want to impress you! I want you to like me, not just love me. I want you to think I’m the greatest thing you’ve ever seen, and it scares me what I would do to make that happen!”

                He huffed. “I care about what you think, and I hate it. I hate that you love me because every minute is a reminder that I don’t deserve it, and then I’m fighting to earn that love and when I can’t do it, I hate myself more. So yeah, Alex, you’re my weak spot. But it’s not because you hurt me. It’s because you’re the only one with that power and I feel like I’m waiting for you to do it already and you just won’t!”

                Alex stared, shocked, and Michael’s grip on his wrist tightened painfully. “I don’t know how to act around you,” he confessed. “I don’t want to mess up, but I know that I will, and that terrifies me. And I know that’s pathetic and I’m a coward, but—”

                Alex silenced Michael by cupping his jaw and closing the distance between them, pressing their mouths together in a quiet, soft kiss. Michael whimpered against Alex’s mouth and Alex swallowed the sound, leading Michael’s hand down to his waist where Michael instinctively hugged him tightly against him. Alex’s clothes were warm and soft against Michael, his chest strong, his heart hammering as hard as Michael’s own.

                Alex pulled back and Michael chased his lips, his eyes half-lidded. Alex traced Michael’s bottom lip with his thumb. “I’m scared, too, Guerin . . . so what if we just agreed not to be? What if I was just me, and you were just you, and . . . we were just together? I don’t want you to be anybody else, Michael, I fell in love with the angry cowboy that lived out of his truck, you’re it.”

                Michael, nervous, put his other hand on Alex’s cheek, and Alex covered it with his own. “I love you,” he said. “I don’t want anyone else. I’m the one who wants to deserve you. So let me.”

                Michael swallowed, watching his own thumb brush Alex’s cheekbone. Part of him still couldn’t believe Alex was this close, that Michael had his stubbled jaw beneath his palm. He wanted to feel more. So much more.

                But he managed enough coherent thought just to say, “You can’t leave me. You can’t, Alex. I can’t handle it.”

                Alex leaned in until he was nuzzling Michael’s cheek. “I never will,” he breathed, and that was all Michael needed to tilt his head back and slot their mouths together, using the arm around Alex’s waist to pull him in tight against him and carry him a few feet.

                “Whoa!” Alex wrapped his arms around his shoulders. “G-Guerin, I still have to find who—”

                “Later,” Michael breathed, lifting Alex’s thigh so that his legs were wrapped around his own waist. “I’ll do it all for you later. Just let me touch you, Alex, I need to.”

***

Happy malex Monday ❤

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #malex fic #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #tyler blackburn #michael vlamis

[acidmatze]

"The axe forgets but the tree remembers" is so important. Like... my parents and my brother scoff when i say i dont want to have any contact with my brother whatsoever

"Pfff okay but I dont know what he has ever done to you"

Maybe YOU forgot but I remember very well when

I as a literal toddler would scream and cry for mom to help me when he would beat me up upstairs. My brother being 18 at that time. He's 14 years older than me. "Oh but all siblings fight sometimes!" would be my brothers go to excuse. Yes, when one is like 10 and the other 6. Not when one is an adult beating up a toddler. And i KNOW she could hear me cuz later she would complain about me "talking too loudly". And if she can hear me talk in my room upstairs then she would hear screaming just as easily. I will never know why she chose to ignore me. When my brother would lock me in the basement or in his room in the basement and wanted me to program his stupid computer. He was reading out code at me and if i wouldnt be able to type quickly enough he would sneer at me and hit me.

The relief i felt when he joined the military and wouldnt be at home for weeks and i could finally exist without fearing to make any noise or else he would barge into ma room and grab me and drag me away cuz he wants something. Or he would just hit me. And somehow even when he was away, everything was always about him at home.

How when he was at home and my friends were over he would pretend to be all friendly and funny and silly and scold me later for flinching when he addressed me. "Why are you flinching? Are you stupid? Why are you doing this, your friends will think im hitting you! How dare you make me look like a bad guy in front of your friends!"

When he finally moved away and for a blissful but short time my mom acknowledged that i also existed. Before i would only exist to serve my brother by letting him do whatever stupid shit he wanted to do and drag me around and lock me up and say Yes to whatever he says. Even if it was benign stuff like helping him cook, I was NEVER EVER allowed to say no. Keep in mind I would be like 6 years old. I was never ever allowed to do my own stuff, kids stuff. Not when my brother was around. I was simply a tool or some shit. To come running when he called. To do whatever he says. But after he moved away for a short time I existed as a person in my moms eyes. Until he started having "issues" with his wife and child. (The "issues" being him hitting my nephew and abusing him and later his daughter too and his wife not wanting that) Ofc my brother never does anything wrong ever so his now ex-wife was the Evil Evil Witch of accusing him of doing those terrible things even though i WAS THERE. I was literally just sitting there, witnessing him hitting his son. When we were over for a visit i would play with my nephew and my brother would excuse himself to go to the bathroom and then Barge into my nephew's room and just smack him. And then hit him again if my nephew started crying (ofc he would cry, he was like 7, are you noticing a pattern yet?) "Oh but Marcel used to be such a bright young boy I wonder what happened to him?" would my parents lament when later my nephew wouldnt talk much, not participate in many things and just withdraw from everything all the time. Oh boy gee i sure wonder what happened! Its probably completely unrelated to my brother beating him up all the time! Thats a mystery for sure!

How later as a young adult i would retreat to my room when he showed up cuz if i would leave my PC he would just waltz in there and fiddle around with it and "repair" it and you know for sure nothing will work after that. When i was at my bff and knew my brother would be over i would even call mom before and beg her not to let him use my damn computer because hes breaking it every time without fail. And every time, also without fail, when i would come home mom would gleefully announce that my brother absolutely did went into my room, snooped through everything and then went on my computer, deleted stuff he didnt agree with me having and "repaired" things that werent broken before but now sure were and nothing was useable anymore. How he was pissed at me having a PS2, 3, 4,etc and I shouldnt have stuff that he also doesnt have even though from early on i had to pay for everything with my own money while he would have stuff thrown at him.

How always, always, always, everything would be about him. Everyone's lives were supposed to revolve around him. If he is around, how dare we not talk to him and him only, how dare we discuss our own lives. How dare we HAVE lives of our own, dont we know we only exist to make him feel good about himself? We are just NPCs to him, pretending to be people having a life but in reality we are only there as tools. Every time anyone of us would.. you know.. have a life that exists completely seperated from his own he would rope that person back in. "Silly you, pretending to be a human. Only I am a human, dont you know that? No one of you is a person, only me."

#blablabla #and every one of my friends who ever met him told me the same thing #in his eyes they dont exist as people #no one does #he is the only Person in his world

[dyinglikenarcissus]

How A Heart Breaks

Warnings: This is a 18+ series! But this one is clean too. Lots and lots of angst though. Death mentions. We’ve all seen the movies. It is what it is. Grieving, and not grieving very well, funeral, abandonment issues, there’s a break up, and cheating if you tilt your head just right. I think that’s all

Please don’t copy or repost my work, thanks! Plagiarism is rude

Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated ☺️

Oh my gawd almost 8k words I am so sorry

Previous Chapter | Master List | Next Chapter

Weeks later you find yourself staring at Steve’s hands while he works on his computer. You two are supposed to be studying together but your mind has been so far from you ever since Bucky’s last call. Sure, you hadn't had a phone call with him in a long time but normally you got emails, messages, pictures, anything. But your husband had gone radio silent since that call.

Steve sighs and sits back in his chair. You don’t even notice he’s watching you because you’re so lost in the daze, your paper on the effects of pollution on a specific species of star fish completely forgotten.

“I know that face, sweetheart. Thinking about Buck?”

“Yeah,” you sigh distractedly. “I mean! Um! I’m sorry, Stevie,” you groan and wipe your hand over your face.

“You wanna talk about?”

You sigh again not wanting to bog him down with your military wife issues. You joined a Facebook group for that. “No,” you whisper.

“He hasn’t written you?” You give your head a small shake. “That happens sometimes. He’s probably off on some mission and hasn’t had a moment to do at anything else. Or the weather’s been so bad that they don’t have power for nonessentials.”

“Yeah. I know.” Everyone in that group had the exact same thing to say. You just felt like something was off.

“Hey,” Steve calls sternly. You look up at him and he’s got his captain face on, staring you down like he’s going to demote you if you don’t step in line. “I’ve been there. I know what I’m talking about. And if you need to vent, vent, but I promise he’s fine.” You nod and look back down at your computer. “Focus. Bucky wouldn't want you failing over him.” Your lips quirk up at his words but you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

When you finally tucked into bed late that night you had trouble sleeping, opting to read over your notes for your finals the next week into the early hours.

You finally started to doze off and your left arm begins feeling a little numb. You figured it was from leaning on it weird or you worked it a little too hard in the gym the previous day. But it continued to bother you to the point where your couldn’t relax at all. Throbbing pain exploded from your shoulder to your finger tips leaving you a whimpering curled up mass on your bed. Tears stung your eyes as the pain only got worse. You attempted to examine it for injuries but it burned to touch it. A guttural cry escaped your lips when you tried to flex your finger only resulting in a jerky twitch of the muscles.

Your muscles throb like there’s tiny cuts across your skin and you were just doused with salt and lemon juice. You can only cry in pain as you attempt to wiggle away from your arm, thinking if you get away from it, the pain will stop. You bury your face in you pillow to muffle a scream but when you look back at your arm, blood its spurting from your shoulder and the entire limb is gone.

You let out a blood curdling scream and feel the world rock around you.

You hear your name distantly and try to focus on it but you can’t stop screaming.

“Wake up! You have to wake up!” You hear the voice plead.

And you feel a stinging slap across your face and gasp sitting up, meeting your roommate’s chest.

“Honey? Hey! You were having a nightmare. You’re safe. You’re in your room. Nobody is here but me and Nat. Do you hear me?” Wanda asks attempting to calm your heightened senses.

You take a few gasping breaths and glance around your room. It all felt so real.

You look down at your arm, the one you just imagined in excruciating pain and missing. There it was. Intact.

You flex your finger and you find that they’re numb. You roll your shoulder a couple of times hoping to get the blood flowing through it before focusing on your roommates.

“It felt so real,” you whisper.

Wanda gives you a tired smile. “I know the feeling, sweetie. Do you want to talk about it?”

“My arm felt like it was on fire and then it was gone,” you explain, rubbing the offending limb with your right hand.

“Gone?” Natasha asks, she’s on the bed on the other side of you.

“Like someone cut it off. There was so much blood.” You voice is a murmur, attempting to rationalize with yourself before you shared it with others.

“Were you watching those gory movies again?” Nat asks and pulls the numb arm from your grip to massage it softly. “See? It’s still here. I’m touching it, too. You’re fine.”

You were not fine. But you nod. “Did you slap me?” You ask, your senses slowing flowing back into you. You couldn’t miss the sting across your cheek.

“You were screaming bloody murder. I didn’t want the cops called on us,” Nat smirks and brings your knuckles to her lips to place a soft kiss there.

“You’re stressed,” Wanda diagnoses with a sigh. “The semester’s almost over so we all are. But you’ve had a lot on your mind lately. I understand it would manifest in your subconscious as a nightmare. We’ll discuss it more in the morning but you need to sleep.”

“Have you been at this all night?” Natasha asks picking up a notebook that fell to the floor during the ordeal.

You nod shyly and press your body down into the pillow. “I’m sorry to worry you. Thank you for checking on me,” you whisper.

“Of course,” Wanda smiles sleepily. “We’re your best friends. We’ll always be here.” You nod once.

“Want us to stay with you?” Nat asks pulling back the sheets to get comfortable before you even reply. She knows you’ll say yes. She wraps an arm over your chest while Wanda curls up next to you.

“You’ll be alright,” Wanda smiles as you curl into her.

But you weren’t alright.

Two days later there was a knock at your door. Steve was there with two uniformed soldiers. You knew exactly what was going on. You’d seen enough movies. You thought you prepared yourself for this but you can’t even bring yourself to face them.

“No,” you frown at the blond.

He looses one of his heartbreaking sighs and you want to the world to swallow you whole so you don’t have to hear what’s next. “Sweetheart-“

“No!” You shout at him and attempt to run back to the comfort of your room but Steve stops you, gripping your still numb wrist. You attempt to glare up at him but tears fill your eyes. He pulls you to his chest and holds you there, completely enveloped in him.

Then you hear his soft sob.

His whole body shakes as he holds you. You reach up to grip the back of his shirt letting out a wail you didn’t know you had in you. You want to sink to your knees and keep sinking until the world around is as cold and damp and limp as you feel.

“I can’t,” you cry. Can’t what? Process what’s happening? Feel the emotions battling for dominance in you heart?

Live without him?

All of the above?

Steve has a much tighter grip on his emotions. He wipes his tears with the side of hand before working on yours.

“You have to be strong right now,” he instructs. But you don’t want to be strong. You want to give up, throw yourself out a window, jump in front of a train, crash your car.

“I can’t,” you croak still buried in his chest.

“You can and you will,” Steve assures you and it breaks something in you. The cries cease and you let him lead you to the couch where the two men sit across from you. You listen but you don’t hear everything.

Train accident. Body never recovered. Unsurvivable.

Your tears stay in check but you squeeze your fists so hard your nails draw blood from your palm.

You hear Wanda’s consulting and Natasha’s tough love but you don’t process it. You register your hands slowly pried open and your self inflicted cuts taken care of but you don’t feel it.

“There’s grief counseling available-“

“She doesn’t need counseling! She needs her husband!” You hear Nat snap and everything refocuses.

“If there’s no body, how do you know he’s gone?” You whisper.

Steve squeezes you around your waist. “Is there anyone out there looking for him?” He asks in an authoritarian voice that you can’t help but look up at him.

“There were, Captain Rogers, but the weather has been inhabitable for the past week and no one could survive a fall from that height.”

“You don’t know Buck. Nothing short of an act of God would keep him from her. I’ll go out there myself and find him if I have to.”

“Rescue measures are being taken but they have to wait out the storms.”

“Jesus,” Steve curses as Nat bandages your hands. You should probably cut you nails. Or get them filed to points. Anything to stop thinking about this.

“I want my husband,” you frown, finding your voice again.

“We’re doing everything in our power, Mrs. Barnes,” one of the soldiers insists. You keep your gaze on your lap as they continue talking. You’re given papers and a folded flag but Nat takes them for you and shows them the door.

Once they’re gone Steve releases a heavy breath and slumps next to you.

“Oh, honey,” Wanda cries and falls to her knees to wrap her arms around you. You shake your head softly and look to the man next to you. He releases a sniffle and buries his face in his hands.

His tears break you.

You can’t be here anymore.

You break away from your friends. Out the front door. Straight to your car. You press the unlock code on the door and pull the spare key out of the glove compartment and drive. You don’t know where to go. You don’t have anywhere to go. Your parents are gone. The rest of your family didn’t want anything to do with you. All your friends were back at your house which was the last place you wanted to be.

Except for one. Well, two.

They don’t find you until the next day. You sit at their bar holding a steaming cup of tea while starring at a metal wall decoration. ‘Higher. Further. Faster.’ You sigh and wonder when so much of your friend group became ex-military.

“Romanoff.”

“Danvers. Are you hiding our roommate?”

“I might be,” the blonde snarks. “And she might have expressed that she wants to be alone.”

You hear Nat scoff. “Yeah, right. Alone with you two and not us: her best friends.”

You sigh at the brewing fight when Maria walks in hearing the commotion. “Hey,” she frowns at her girlfriend. “She doesn’t need to hear this. Close the door or take it outside.” Why couldn’t you be as strong as her? As strong as all of them. You just ran away from your problems and it only took them a day to catch up with you.

“I’m not leaving without her,” Nat snarls.

“Fine. You’ll have to go through me, though,” Carol warns and you instantly knew you came to the right place to hide out. She might not share your affection but she was loyal to a fault.

“This is ridiculous,” Nat sighs and calls for you. “Get out here! Now!” You feel tears pool in your eyes again. You can’t face them. They warned you not to fall for him. They warned you to keep your heart guarded. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. And they were going to think you’d lost it when you tell them what’s been on your mind.

“Sweetheart,” you hear Steve choke though the catty insults. You perk at his voice in an instant. “Please don’t do this. Don’t block me out. We need each other.”

He was right. Bucky was your common denominator. And he’d lost so much more of him than you. “Sweetheart,” he chokes and the tears fall from your eyes.

“You can let them in. I’m ready,” you whisper to Maria and hope Carol hears.

“You sure? Because Carol can take them. The big one might take some time but she’ll get it done.”

You smile despite yourself and scoot off the bar stool. “I’m sure she can. Thank you,” you whisper and she pulls you into a hug. Carol begrudgingly lets them in.

Steve rushes you in a tight hug, burying his face in your curls. You wrap your arms around his strong shoulders and hold him close.

“Please, don’t do that to me again,” he begs in your ear.

You didn’t realize your presence meant so much to him. You squeeze him a little tighter before he pulls away.

“Alright. We spent all night getting her to stop crying. Don’t you dare upset her!” Carol hisses at your friends.

“It’s okay,” you sigh. “They didn’t do anything to me. I just couldn’t be at home. I needed to think.”

“And what did you come up with?” Wanda asks sincerely, taking your hand in hers.

You glance between them. They won’t get it. But you have to voice your opinion or you’d be trapped in your own head until you were proven otherwise. “I don’t think he’s gone,” you whisper. You waited for the chorus of doubts but the group remained quiet. “I-I think I would know,” you stutter. “I would feel it, I think.” You scoff at how you’re explaining what is going on in your head. “Until they bring him to me, I have to believe he’s still alive.”

You notice Natasha’s frown and she opens her mouth to respond but Steve speaks before she has a chance to.

“I agree,” he starts. “It doesn’t seem right. With all the technology available to them, they should be able to confirm if a solider is dead or not. They didn’t even bring you his tags.”

Nat gapes at the exchange in front of her. “Psych major,” she addresses Wanda, “fix this!”

Wanda’s features are a trained neutral. “There’s nothing to fix. They’re both mentally healthy and well adjusted people, if not a little quick to act. This is just a part of the grieving process.”

“You can’t tell me this is a part of the process,” Nat mutters and crosses her arms.

“Denial is indeed part of the process,” Wanda confirms quietly, “but I don’t need to tell you that.”

“Look, I know it’s crazy but I’m a scientist. I need proof,” you insist.

“There’s no pictures. There’s no body. There’s no proof,” Steve agrees.

Natasha scoffs and gives you both a hard look. “We won’t be weird about it but let us have this,” you plead for both you and Steve. Mostly you. Because you feel like he’s only agreeing to this for your sake but you’re grateful to him.

“Fine!” Natasha finally hisses. “Fine. Whatever. Live in your bubble where everything is fine. Just keep me out of your delusions. To me, he committed an unforgivable act and I’ll talk shit about him any chance I get.”

“Natasha,” Wanda frowns. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do! I fucking told him to let her go! I told him! I know what war does to people! I told him if he hurt her I’d never forgive him and now look at where we are!” You sigh and bury your face in Steve’s shirt. His strong arms wrap around you pulling you close. She probably warned him until she was blue in the face. Probably told that if he didn’t die overseas, she kill him herself when he got back. She was intense like that and that’s why you love her but right now, you just need a hug. And maybe some food.

“Hey,” you mutter pulling your face from Steve’s chest. “Do you guys want to get some breakfast?” It was the first thing they’d all readily agreed on in a long time and you appreciated it. “Stevie took me took this place near the city where I cried until I felt better. Maybe it’ll work again.” Steve actually chuckled at this notion. It was raspy from tears and lack of sleep but it was a laugh and you’d take it.

———

Time passed and though you missed your husband immensely, you kept it between you and Steve and sometimes Wanda and Sam to avoid Nat’s wrath. It felt strange to ignore an entire part of yourself but you did it to keep your best friend. You held his funeral at his mother’s house. It was strange meeting the woman for the first time without your husband by your side. But Steve was there. He helped you pick out flowers and you baked a pie that Bucky claimed was his mother and sister’s favorite. You hoped to make a good impression on the woman that was technically your mother in law but the first thing she did when she saw you was burst into tears. “You’re exactly the kind of woman I imagined my Jamie would marry,” she sobs in Steve’s arms. You pass off your pie and pull the woman into a tight embrace and cry with her.

Needless to say, it was an extremely rough day. But you survived it. And you went home and had a couple ill advised drinks with Carol and Maria and promptly passed out on their couch.

Probably not your best performance but you got better for finals. Aced all your exams because it’s what Bucky would’ve wanted, watched Steve and Sam graduate, and went to Tony’s huge end of the year party.

Of course with Steve and Sam graduating, they’d be moving out of their apartment which meant you finally had to pack up Bucky’s room. You and Steve got together to fold up his clothes and tuck his things into boxes. Steve ended up finding his stash of your nudes which turned him completely red while you fell into a fit of giggles.

“You can have one for the road,” you offer. “A whole lot of good they’re doing me. Just in case I forget what I look like naked,” you trail.

“Peggy would actually kill me,” Steve laughs making you laugh harder.

“She’s missing out. This could be the ménage à trois of the century,” you joke but he just gives you an odd look that you can’t read which is rare since you’ve spent so much time with him. You could pretty much read him like a book at this point.

“Speaking of Peggy. I’ve decided to try England.”

“Really?” You grin looking up at him.

“Yeah. For right now, just a couple of months to see how it works out. Until I start my contract with American.”

“Look at you! And you said you’d never go back to Europe.”

“The things I do for love,” he sighs.

You smile and scoot closer to him on the floor and rest your hand over his. “Make the most of it. You’ll be out there with the woman you love in the country she loves. You’re going to have a great time.”

He releases another sigh then smiles sadly at you. “I’d hate to leave you, sweetheart.”

“Steven Grant Rogers, I am a grown ass woman! I know Bucky told you to take care of me but I can handle myself. I did it for nineteen years before I met him and I can do it for at least nineteen more.” Steve only chuckles at your bravado, no doubt remembering how you couldn’t figure out how change the filter on you coffee maker and it was literally just a button or the countless other times he had to rescue you from yourself. “I’m serious, Stevie. I’ll be alright. I’ll figure myself out but you have a life and a girl waiting for you. Don’t fuck that up on my account.”

He suddenly frowns at you and pulls you into a hug. “It’s so strange how similar you two are,” he mutters into your hair. “Bucky would’ve said the exact same thing. I can almost hear his voice sometimes when you talk.”

“I think that’s what it like when you find your other half,” you whisper. He pulls away from you and finally a smile reaches his lips and the two of you finish packing.

A couple weeks pass and the man that had become your rock hops on a plane to Europe with the love of his life and all you’re left with is the exciting prospect of summer school.

Fun.

You soon fall back into the routine of school and hanging out with Wanda and Natasha. Sometimes Vision and Bruce would accompany them. And sometimes you’d hide out with Carol and Maria when you missed hearing war stories.

“So there I was completely out of fuel on some island in the Atlantic ocean, hundreds of miles from anything and a fucking private yacht just happens to sail by,” Carol recounts enthusiastically.

“No way!” You grin.

“Way! I felt like fucking Jack Sparrow surrounded by coconut trees and sea turtles. Tell her, Maria!”

“We were about to send out a search party and everything. She went silent for a week.”

“I was living it up in the Bahamas,” the blond smirks.

“You almost gave me a heart attack,” Maria grits before whacking her girlfriend’s arm making you giggle. You miss this stuff. Tales of peril and survival. That feeling of living vicariously through someone else gave you doses of serotonin and you couldn’t get enough of it. “Tell her about that time we flew that top secret jet,” the dark skinned woman then prompts and Carol does not disappoint.

You lounge on their couch while Maria shows you pictures of their planes. You can tell they miss flying immensely and they don’t get nearly as much time in the air as they did while in active duty. Carol was even building her own plane at the local private airport and Maria was supervising the process. It started off as a mystery as to why the one with the engineering experience wasn’t building the plane but you quickly found out that Maria didn’t approve of this endeavor and she just kept an eye on Carol so she didn’t get herself killed in her DIY flying deathtrap.

“And this is Sally. We flew over a hundred successful missions together.”

“No shit,” you breathe looking at the picture of Maria in the cockpit of grey bomber. You could easily glimpse a photo of Carol tucked into the instrument panel. These two are so fucking adorable. Your phone starts to chime in your pocket and you hand Maria back her phone to deal with your own. A picture of Steve and Bucky at the carnival where you went on a double date early on in your relationship appears on the screen and you light up.

“Stevie! How’s France?” You greet excitedly.

“Terrible. I getting on a flight home in the morning.”

“What? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

He sighs and you can practically hear the irritation radiating off of him. “It’s a lot,” he groans. “I don’t really want to talk about. I just called to see if you can pick me up from the airport tomorrow. I’d get an Uber but it’d be nice to see a friendly face.”

“Of course! Send me your flight info. It sucks that its not working out but it’ll be great to see you. I miss you.”

“Miss you, too, sweetheart.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you smile.

“See you tomorrow.” And with that the line goes dead and a sigh escapes you. Steve’s coming home!

“What was that about?” Carol asks placing a bowl of nachos and guacamole on the coffee table.

“Stevie’s coming home!”

“Rogers? Wow. That didn’t last too long.”

“You sound really excited about it, too,” Maria jokes.

“Yeah, almost too excited. You got a thing for your husband’s best friend?”

“No!” You say a little too defensively. “I just missed having him around. We got really close after Bucky was deployed.”

“Sure you did,” Carol teases.

“Really close,” Maria sings.

“Will you two stop it? I’m married. He’s in a relationship. There’s nothing going on.”

“Stevie! Of course I’ll pick you up at the airport! Do you need your dick sucked, too? I eat ass!” Maria mocks your enthusiastic tone making you fall into a fit of laughter.

“That was one time and with my husband! I made him wash it like five times before I even got close.”

“Yet there’s video documentation of it so you must be pretty proud,” Carol insists with a laugh.

You groan and get up from your contorted position on the couch. “I’m going home. I don’t have to be subjected to this.”

“Go book a bikini wax. Get your girl all pretty for it’s new owner,” the blond continues.

“Oh my god,” you mutter and pull her into a hug then Maria. “Bye! Love you both.”

“Love you!” They chime together and wave as you head out to your car.

As much as you want to deny it, letting Steve bury his cock it you didn’t sound like a terrible time. You bite your bottom lip at the thought of him tearing you apart but then quickly get a hold of your brain.

He doesn't want you like that.

He only sees you as a friend. His tie is to Bucky. He keeps you close out of obligation. Besides, who wants to be with a girl who prays for her husband to come home every night before crying herself to sleep? No self loving man and certainly not Steve. He had his pick of the flock. Why would he want you?

You sigh to yourself and enter your empty house. Wanda and Vision are on a date and Nat’s studying at the library. So you’re left alone with your thoughts.

It didn’t stop you from dolling up for him. Torso hugging sundress, light makeup, you even straightened your hair. You roll your eyes at yourself at how far you went for a man you don’t even want to date.

Maybe saying you don’t want to date him was going a little too far. He’s a great man. Probably a great boyfriend. But there’s so much working against you. You blink against the feelings as you pull into the arrivals zone. You spot the blond instantly; leaning against a large roller bag with a duffle slug over his shoulder.

“Stevie!” You cry jumping out of your car.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he grins and lifts you into a spinning hug leaving you giggling. “I missed you so much,” he mutters into your hair before finally placing you back on your feet.

“Missed you, too,” you whisper rubbing his full beard. You’ve never seen him with a beard.

He places a soft kiss on your head before tossing his stuff in the trunk.

“Thank you for picking me up,” he sighs and makes himself comfortable in the seat next to you.

“Of course. So, where to now?”

“Honestly, I just really want a good cheese burger.” You laugh and know exactly where to take him. “Jesus, this is perfect,” the blond moans after taking his first bite.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t like any of the food over there,” you mutter dipping a fry in your milkshake and taking a bite.

“I’m a simple guy. I like hot dogs and grilled cheese sandwiches but they don’t have American cheese.”

“You’re telling me there’s no American cheese outside of America?” You gasp playfully.

“Alright,” Steve attempts to stop you before you can read him for his land of the free privilege.

“It was probably called European cheese and no one told you,” you suggest.

“You know, if I wanted to hang out with Tony, I would’ve called him,” he warns with a smirk.

“Fine. I’ll be nice,” you smile.

“Thank you.”

“So, you gonna tell me what happened?”

Steve groans and nibbles on a fry. “I don’t even know where to start. We fought from the second we got there about everything. Stupid stuff like who does the laundry and sides of the bed. We’d just find stuff to argue about. And everything there is so small. I’m a big guy.”

“Very big,” you agree with a smirk.

“I couldn’t fit in the shower! And the beds were small and the couches! Don’t get me started on the couches!”

“Did you miss your reclining modular sofa?” You laugh.

“Immensely! I feel like I haven’t stretched out in a year.”

“You’re an American sized man. You need an American sized world.”

“Exactly! It’s so good to be back home,” he sighs and stretches across his side of the booth.

“Speaking of home; where are you staying?”

“American got me a hotel in the city until I can find a place.”

“A hotel?” You frown. “You can stay at my place if you want.”

“No. I don’t want to put that on you.”

“Well, the offers there if you want it,” you assure him with a small smile.

“I’ll gladly take you up on our regular sleepovers,” he grins. “And I’m sure I have a back log of stories to read.”

You sigh and glance away. “I haven’t really written anything since you left. Since Bucky-“ you don’t even know how to finish the sentence. “Since no one’s reading them.” Steve hums and reaches across the table to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You haven’t straightened your hair in a long time,” he comments. You smile slightly at the fact that he noticed the effort. “I miss seeing your curls. You’re gorgeous either way but you know that.”

“Steve,” you mutter attempting to look away but he grips your chin softly forcing you to look at him.

“When was the last time someone told you you were beautiful?”

“I think Wanda did this morning while she helped with my hair.”

“Damn. You know I was fishing for another answer?”

“Language, Stevie!” You giggle. “And I know. I’m just making sure you work for it.”

“Difficult. Just like your husband.”

“You seem to be drawn to difficult people.”

“I like challenges.”

The two of you finish your meal and you drop Steve off at his hotel with the promise to visit the next weekend. And it’s like you two are instantly back in your old groove: sleeping in each other’s beds and taking each other out on ‘dates’. It was nice. You missed how easily the two of you got along.

And then work started for him. And he worked a lot!

For now, Steve got a week off every month but getting a traditional weekend varied. Sometimes he got a day. Sometimes he didn’t. But whenever he was in New York, he was always with you. Dragging you out for a nice dinner in the city or to a movie or sometimes just climbing into your bed to get some well deserved sleep with his strong arms wrapped around you and holding you close.

“Hey, Stevie,” Wanda greets when the two of you stumble downstairs after staying out all night and getting home just in time to watch the sun rise. “You need to start paying rent. You sleep here so often.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just so used to being here.” The strawberry blonde chuckles interrupting him.

“We don’t mind. It makes her happy. All she did was mope around and hang out with Carol and Maria when you were gone.”

“You moped?” Steve smirks running a hand through his bed tousled hair.

“She’s making stuff up,” you argue.

“Oh no! Don’t try that shit. I have multiple witnesses of your moping including the new neighbors.”

“Sweetheart!” Steve gasps.

“She hasn’t done it in a while but she’d stand outside and stare at your old door like she was waiting for one of you to come out.”

“Wanda,” you whine at the woman telling all of your depression secrets.

“What?” She shrugs with a sly grin. “He should know.”

“You wanna talk about it?” Steve asks giving you a stern look.

“No,” you answer firmly and continue to the kitchen to make you both some breakfast.

“He likes you. You know that, right?” Wanda tells you as she corners you in the kitchen long after Steve left that same day.

“Who?” You ask with a lifted brow and you stir tonight’s dinner.

“‘Who?’ she asks. Steve!”

“What? No!”

“Yes, he does,” Wanda insists pulling you by the hands to force you to focus on her.

“No, he doesn’t. He’s just hanging out with me because Bucky asked him to. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“What doesn’t mean anything?” Natasha asks walking into the kitchen no doubt wondering when dinner will be done.

“Steve hanging around so much,” you mutter.

“Oh? Because he wants to fuck your brains out,” the red head informs the two of you.

“No, he doesn’t,” you state firmly.

“Yes, he does,” both Wanda and Nat counter.

“Have you seen the way that man looks at you?” Nat interjects. “He looks like a starving man looking at a four course meal and he wants dessert first.”

“He looks at you like you’re the best thing in his life,” Wanda adds.

“He looks at you the way Tony looks at Pepper,” Bruce says as he follows his girlfriend into the kitchen.

“No one asked any of you how he looks at me. He probably looked at Bucky the same way because we’re friends!” You cry.

“Or because he wanted to fuck Bucky, too,” Nat mutters snatching a tomato from the tossed salad.

“You’re all insane,” you mutter into your gumbo.

“No! We have eyes and we can see. You keep pushing this wonderful guy into the friend zone even though we all know you want to fuck him, too. You have to move on or he will,” Natasha frowns.

“And we’ll be stuck picking up the pieces of you. Again,” Wanda sighs and pulls plates and bowls from the cabinets.

“He wouldn’t,” you whisper so quietly no one else in the room hears.

But he does and it almost makes you sick.

Some blonde tramp he met at an airport. She works for the government and has her entire life figured out. Great body, great skin, great hair.

Nat and Wanda were completely full of it to say Steve was even remotely into you after introducing you to her.

He introduced the two of you after a long two week stent away from home. You were looking forward to having Steve all to yourself for a week. You had movies planned, new restaurants to try, the whales were migrating so you wanted to take him whale watching. And all of those plans were dashed when he showed up at your door with her on his arm.

“Sweetheart! I missed you!” He grins holding his arms open for you to leap into but you didn’t miss the other woman standing next to him.

“Stevie,” you squeal excitedly as he spins you in his arms.

“Steve, aren’t you going to introduce us?” A sultry voice asked to your right. You peak over his shoulder to finally get a good look at her. Floral blouse tucked into high waisted pants. A pair of high end pumps. Designer bag slung over her shoulder.

She’s perfect.

“Of course. Where are my manners?” Steve chuckles. He releases you so your feet touch the ground but doesn’t take his arms from around your waist. You don’t remove yours from his shoulders either. “Sweetheart, this is Sharon. Sharon this is the famous Mrs. Barnes.”

You grin and wave at the strange woman.

“She’s actually one of Peggy’s distant cousins. Crazy how small the world is,” Steve jokes.

“Absolutely insane,” you agree. “Are you in town for a few days?” You ask the woman.

“No, I live in the city. Steve and I met on a layover in Texas.”

“Oh! You were in Texas?” You ask the blond wrapped around you.

“I was. Brought you this,” he holds up a gift bag and you hope it’s the shoes you’ve pining for for a year. This native woman in Texas makes them but she doesn’t have an internet presence and doesn’t ship outside of the state. “Hope they fit. If not, I’ll be back there next month.”

“Thank you, Stevie!” You cry and hold him tighter.

“Anything for you, sweet girl,” he mutters into your hair. The woman clears her throat and you begin to wonder why she’s spoiling your time with your Stevie.

“This is the one you wanted to introduce me to?” You ask quietly.

Steve nods and pulls away, “You ready to go?” You spin for him to get his approval of your outfit. It was one of Bucky’s favorite sundresses. You could sit on his lap and it was so frilly that no one could tell you were keeping his cock warm while the two of you shared a picnic lunch or watched a movie.

“Beautiful,” Steve grins holding out his arm for you to walk down the stairs. You grin and follow him to his new car.

You were pissed.

Today was supposed to be for the two of you. The first day together in weeks. Yet here she was. You knew he wanted to introduce the two of you. As the closest thing to his late best friend, he wanted your approval.

So far, she wasn’t getting it.

You hid you disdain at sitting in the back seat as you watch the rural landscape become urban and you finally enter the city. Steve opens your door for you then Sharon’s and wraps an arm around her waist possessively. You frown at the motion. It should be your waist his arm is around. It should be your temple he’s pressing his lips against. It should be you.

When did you become so possessive over the blond?

You don’t want him. You’re married. You love Bucky. Steve is anything but Bucky. Steve is uptight, a stickler for rules and order, you’ve never heard him utter one serious curse word in the time you’ve known him. He trusts the government for Christ’s sake.

You stamp down your jealousy as he opens the door to a high end restaurant.

“Three for Rogers,” he tells the woman near the door while you attempt to make small talk with Steve’s date.

“So, what do you do exactly? All Steve’s said is that you work for the government,” you start, looking up slightly at the taller woman.

“I watch for terrorist threats and confiscate possible weapons of mass destruction,” she explains as if she were simply a secretary.

“Wow!” You smile and try not to show how impressed you really are.

“And what about you?”

“I’m still in school. Studying marine biology. I just want to save the whales and sea turtles.”

“Noble,” she smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. You’re both sizing each other up and this is sure to end ugly. “Steve told me your late husband was his best friend so the two of you are close. I’m sorry for your loss.”

It still hurts to hear it.

You just give her a small smile and follow Steve to your table. You haven’t quite figured out how to respond to the sentiment. You doubt you ever will.

“But you weren't together long, right? Less than a year?”

You nod. “He was still my other half. I felt it when he-“

“Sweetheart,” Steve interrupts you, pulling out your chair. “Don’t go down that road. You’ll only hurt yourself,” he warns before placing kiss on your temple as you sit. You nod and stare out the window instead of paying attention to the conversation in front of you. Why was it so easy to send you spiraling? Your eyes burn and you excuse yourself to the restroom.

Breathe. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. A tear inevitably slips from your eye but that’s all you’ll allow. You touch up your make up and put on a brave face.

The waiter is already at the table when you return.

“There she is,” Steve smiles and attempts to get your chair but the waiter beats him to it with a warm grin.

“I was just explaining the specials but if there’s something you don’t like, I can pull some strings in the kitchen,” the man assures you with a smirk.

“Oh? Is that allowed?” You giggle.

“For you, there’s exceptions.” You can’t help but bite your lip to hold back a smile.

He sends you a free drink and Sharon grins at you. “He’s totally flirting.”

“No!” You deny quickly and scoot the drink to the edge of the table. It doesn’t look like anything you’d like anyway.

“Come on! It’d be rude to at least not try it.”

“If she doesn’t want to, she doesn’t have to,” Steve sighs, irritated at the situation for some reason.

When the waiter returns with the food he cocks his head at you. “You didn’t like it? I knew I should have sent over the daiquiri. The bartender said the long island is popular. Should’ve gone with my gut.”

“They both sound good. It’s just a little rude to send me one and not the rest of the table.” Steve hides a chuckle. “But it was a very sweet gesture.”

The second the man walks away Steve smirks at you. “You’re definitely Bucky’s wife.”

“I can’t believe someone married you with that attitude,” Sharon snarks with an eye roll.

“I’m not interested in handouts,” you sigh and focus on your food. But after the meal is done a round of desserts arrives at the table.

“Is this a grand enough gesture?” The waiter asks retuning to the table.

You finally give the man a once over. He’s good looking. Tall. He’s got that rugged unkempt look to him but he’s a little too put together to sell the bad boy persona. “I never got your name,” you smile.

“Peter Quill.” He slides you a card with his number and you don’t even notice how you flutter your lashes for him as you introduced yourself. But Steve does and now he’s pissed. You can tell as it sours the rest of your day. He pouts at the natural history museum and doesn’t say a word on your walk through Central Park but you and Sharon easily fill the silence. For some reason you feel a bit lighter. Guys never flirted with you. Probably because you always wore your wedding ring and they assumed you were married to the muscular blond you were constantly out with. But this helped boost your frail ego just a tiny bit.

Steve dropped Sharon off at her apartment with the promise that he’d be back as soon as he got you home.

“What was that?” Steve frowns as soon as he’s back in the car. You moved to the front seat with Sharon gone and give him a quizzical look.

“What was what?”

“That Quill guy? You were all over him!”

“I was not!” You defend yourself and cross your arms over your chest. “It’s not like I’ll ever call him, anyway. It just felt good to feel wanted,” your voice tapers off at the end of your sentence. Steve glances away from the road for a moment to give you a hard look but he drops it.

For the moment.

“I don’t make you feel wanted?” The blond asks as he parks in front of your apartment.

“Of course you do, Stevie, but not…not sexually.” You roll your head to look out the window at the car parked next to you. “I’ve felt tainted ever since…” you trail not bothering to finish your thought. “I’m a widow. That comes with this weird stigma. Like my husband will rise up and retaliate if someone starts to like me. Or I killed him and I’m looking for my next victim. I just hate explaining myself to everyone!” You swallow the lump in your throat. “I’m just…very lonely, Steve.” You thought you’d at least still have Steve but he’s moved on.

So should you.

“I’m really tired,” you whisper. “I had fun. Sharon seems nice. I’m glad you found someone.” The words pour from your mouth in quick succession as you get out of the car and enter your home as quickly as possible. It takes a while, but you hear a car speed off and you finally feel safe enough to step away from the door.

You slip off your heels and start toward the stairs when the lock clicks behind you. The tears come before you even have a chance to turn.

“You stubborn little woman,” his authoritative tone breaks down every wall you thought you put up as you stare up at the blond soldier. “I practically threw myself at you but you didn’t want anything to do with me. And now that I found someone, you’re upset?”

“Yes, I’m upset!” You cry. “I didn’t want you to find anyone. You had me!”

“I need a little more than cuddles and movie nights!”

“I just need time, Steve!”

He opens his mouth to retort then quickly snaps it shut before stalking toward you. “I’m going to kiss you and then you can tell me if you still need time.” His lips meet yours and you practically melt under him. They fit yours so perfectly. Your knees start to buckle and he catches you around your waist with a firm grip. It’s almost better than-

He pulls away before you can finish your thought. You search his gaze, lust blown pupils stare back at you expectantly. Fresh tears spring from your eyes.

“I can’t,” you sob. “It still hurts!”

Steve just pulls you into his arms and attempts to quiet your tears. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. I pushed you too far. It won’t happen again,” Steve promises as he pulls you into his lap on the couch but it only makes you sob harder.

Knowing he won’t try to kiss you again anytime soon.

Knowing he won’t try to push you.

Knowing your relationship will go right back to the platonic place it’s been residing in all this time.

Because you really liked that kiss.

Steve didn’t return to Sharon’s apartment that night. He stayed firmly wrapped around you as you slept.

That relationship didn’t last much longer after that. And your relationship with Steve turned into something far stranger than what it had been.

You went out on dates, had movie nights, slept in each other’s beds. But now you stole kisses every once in a while. Steve never initiated them. He never flirted beyond the scope of your friendship. He just let you feel it out. A peck as you got ready for bed, or when he picked you up for dinner. You had your first full on make out session during movie night as his place. But you never let it go beyond a kiss. Removing his hands from your waist if you felt too stimulated or putting space between the two of you if neither of you felt like behaving.

And Steve was always the perfect gentleman as usual.

But you can tell his patience is wearing thin.

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#the boys next door series #college au #steve rogers x black female reader #steve roger x reader #steve rogers x black!reader #Steve Rogers x black!female!reader #bucky barnes x black!female!reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x black female reader #stucky x black!female!reader #stucky x black female reader #stucky x black!reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky x reader #thank god I’m done

[dicksoutformtl]

I’ve been thinking about sorlato a lot lads, not just in my silly self ship either but like them as a unit.

I try not to talk about my thoughts with them as I feel everyones really thought through when writing them as characters & I just kinda slap little thoughts an feelings I have but there’s really nothing to go off of i guess— is the word I’m looking for :’) i think. Aa but I’m trying to get more confident with talking about them.

So hi hello, this will be a pretty damn long wall of word vomit that may or may not be coherent, I’m not good at writing thoughts to words in the best way lol. If you don’t want to read this totally ignore or block me if you need to c: I apologize there’s no read more I’m on mobile & don’t have access to a computer to put one in.

Gelato is Slavic;

I always flip flop between on a specific country a lot there’s a lot of really neat places with individual culture & so on but in general I normally go with Russia. Mostly because as a kid & if I’m being honest now I’ve been really into Russian history|culture|etc so in my head it’s like natural choice.. I guess aha

But I have entertained the idea of maybe Poland or Lithuania, though I don’t know a whole lot about either of those countries, i do think it’d be neat to mmh explore with him i think is the word I’m thinking of ;;;

Sorbet on the other hand;

I’m always torn on because I like the idea of him having mixed heritages. I tend to lean towards maybe middle eastern with European ties that immigrate to Italy when he’s pretty young like I dunno 12 years—

but I also like the idea of him being Ukrainian. I have other thoughts & ideas for him but I tend to flip flop on those alot. Though I am always a huge fan of them both being from the same place, in my normal case with gelato they’d be from Russia.

Maybe because I love older men but I always think of them in their mid to late 40’s;

Sorbet is the older of the two of them with Gelato being 3 years younger then him.

& I always go off of from 2001 normally when I am talking about just them, so that have their birthdates at Sorbet 1952-1956 & Gelato at 1956-1959. I do have birthdays i think they’d been born on but aa yeah.

I think they give off military vibes;

Especially Gelato, though back then when they were growig up you don’t really get a uh choice to join the military or not unless y’know.* I don’t know, i guess. but I do know he holds that hh holds that look in his eyes, there’s a certain look I see when I think of him that just screams to me that he’s seen hidden horrors & was put through a lot that wasn’t just generational trauma or the world around him etc.

Gelato also gives off for a lack of better wording manic energy, that makes him just be way to much for people thats not used to him. he’s able to turn it off in a way, there isn’t a time or place in war for that kinda unbridle energy & for awhile he’d stamp it down but it’s just hard, it’s really hard to keep it down. It’s just a lot to much honestly for a person to handle & I just *know* he wasn’t able to keep it down & it caused something *huge* & horrible to happen an it still haunts him.

Sorbet on the other hand;

While I do think he was in the military for several reasons, I think when I look at him his eyes tell me his thing his thing was already there & near it’s tipping point, when he was eventually in the military just pushed it over.

like gelato he has the generational trauma & y’know the world around him but his thing is not it mmh— it doesn’t affect him outwardly at least to those who don’t know him well enough but those who do know him well enough know how much it eats at him, on the outside he is steadfast & unphased but on the inside it often consumes him.

I want to say to say it has something to do with his family life or maybe something brought up around his community that’s stuck with him. Something that was near the boiling point though before the war took over. I don’t always go the war route for sorbet especially, but gelato also, though that tends to be the biggest thought I have for them.

||* I mean that’s how I always understood it, but don’t quote me please ; v ; ) ||

I really like that sorbet;

gives off the vibes he’s all calm & cool an collected but he is just as chaotic as gelato but he’s not near as like impulsive (??) about it as his husband is. Don’t be fooled by his soft voice & reserved appearance he’s just as ready to cause mayhem.

With this said I do like to think as the years go on they both slow their rolls a bit, i mean they still go absolutely wild but not as wide spread & as often as in their youth. There are exceptions such as their career & in my head they have these certain days as either celebration for things they’ve achieved|survived|etc etc or maybe to have those lost they cared for they cause problems in their memory alive.

Gelato is a given for being out there & I say that affectionately but;

the idea of people seeing sorbet doing something considers out of the ordinary, at the very least to them is out there, just sparks a joy in my heart & never fails to make me laugh. Like I don’t have a whole lot of thoughts on this it’s just something I think about a bit that varies a lot but still is just very silly.

The only other thought I have is, I definitely know they have a couple shared hobbies that people are always confused as to why sorbet is doing them also. But jokes on them he’s the one who got gelato into it & it’s now a shared an beloved thing to do together.

And I do hope it’s ok to add this, I’ve seen others headcanon this also though they actually had it;

But I like to think gelato has adhd or at the very least something within that spectrum. Now I don’t know a whole lot about adhd but from what little I do & from what I understand he’s definitely in that area.

This one I can’t explain it well or at least coherently enough for others;

Sorbet deals with lots of guilt that’s not even his own but he carrys & holds it as if it’s his own. I just hh It’s just a feeling I have for him. I also think dealt with other heavier things but I do not have any like solid ideas it’s just a feeling I got.

Something that I love about these two;

Is they have the kind of relationship where they just hold genuine love for one another.

It’s not exaggerated nor is it something you hold secret resentment towards. I am not saying they didn’t have issues or problems in the years they’d even together, but what I’m trying to say is they are able to actually work through it & not have it be held against one another.

They hold honest to god adoration for one another & there’s more feelings but I am dreadful with putting soft sappy feelings into words but it has me crying over it thinking about it ; v ; ) *

||* I won’t fully rewrite this above but I wanted to clarify that their relationship isnt the full, what i refer to as puppy love, but as the years go on they’re just content to exist with each other with that soft joy that you get with spending time of your loved ones. But what I was trying to say but aa missed their relationship with one another is very healthy one & problems they may have are worked through c: hope that will clear it up~!!

I can’t remember who said this one :’) but to whoever said it I love you sm;

I think about this a lot like the mental image of Gelato playing the guitar but not singing very well or supposedly, but sorbet just being all heart eyes over him, is just magical & I hold it dear to my heart. Honestly same, same gelato lol.

The rest of these are just silly things with little thought behind them;

- Sorbet has a pollen allergy, it’s horrible & sucks for him but shh he do be lookin kinda cute

- Gelato used to be able to be super flexible like not quite contortionist level but pretty damn close

- They both have a stick n poke tattoo they gave eachother, sorbet has the sun & gelato has the moon so when they hold hands it looks like they interlock

- Sorbet is good at slight of hand like crazy good at it, mostly used for gambling but he’s totally used it to get out of sticky situations

- They both have a shared garden. Sorbet is really good at growing vegetables & other things of that nature. Gelato has a beautiful flower garden that he’s incredibly proud of

- Sorry if you’ve gotten this far but I legally have to assign a character this & Gelato just in my head screams he can open beer bottles an the such with his teeth. It’s a pretty damn impressive trick especially back when he was younger, but god is it bad for the teeth lol*

||* I knew a person irl who could do this way back when I was a little kid & I’m still like super impressed by it to this day. Like damn Will really could do that huh. But no I jokingly give at least 1 or more characters I adore this trick. For context :P

Last thought cause ive been writing this for a solid 4 hours now & I can still go on but I recognize I need to stop myself lol

These are what I imagine their voices/etc sounding like least the best I can put into words;

Sorbet when speaking talks with a lilt to his voice, kinda like sing-song with his accent that you can still kinda hear from leftover years. It’s really soothing to listen to normally, but can also be eerie for a unlucky victim.

If you’re lucky enough to witness this, when he gets excited or really happy about something his voice will momentarily reach a really high pitch that just has this sound to it you can like *feel* the joy he’s feeling before dropping back to normal his face gets really red when he realizes he made the sound, it’s really endearing.

His laugh if he’s doing his real one, he gives off the vibes to have what I call the polite laugh you do, starts quiet & slow then just kinda explodes. 100/10 you need to hear it. I also think he could have what I also call a sleepy kinda laugh he’ll do at times also.

Gelato when he talks is very distinct kind of voice, like how you can hear some actors/singers/people’s voice & just *know* it’s that person. It’s very rough sounding like gravel & has low rumble that you can, in a way, feel. Has a noticeable accent but doesn’t necessarily get in the way but you know this is a second language at least.

Not uh necessarily a voice thing but also kinda is, does that thing I adore when people forget a word in one language so they try to either explain it to you in vague ways in the language or they just start muttering to themselves in their native language trying to figure it out. Absolutely shouts it a little to loud at you with a triumphant smile when he remembers the word.

His laugh, depends who you are, can be the worst fucking thing or it’s oddly lovable. It’s like a rusty hyena that comes from deep in his chest & at points will rise high then drop lower it’s just all over the place. He definitely has a squeal to it when he gets really into something that makes him overly happy & amused, honest to god sorbet and me shh thinks it’s just the most adorable thing ever.

#honestly i am so sorry this is long post of nonsense :’) #if somethings wrong or i need to tag/take something out please let me know. i dont know if its needed but just in case #i dont know! i dont know i just love these two so much & i wanna get more comfy with talking about them #if you read this i am legally obligated to compensate you lol /j #ok !! sorry i will be quiet now. good night !! #long post ?? #sorbet and gelato #sorbet jjba #gelato jjba #sorlato #<- does this count ??? id assume yes jdndnd

[mythicalninjas]

From anon's request: "How would the boys react to see the reader appeared out of no where in the lair. Like there is a portal that open in the middle of the lair and the reader get out of it. They don’t know the reader before. How would they react? You can do separately or all together I don’t mind."

A/N: It got too long, but hope you like it! If you find any mistakes in the paragraphs or do not understand something, feel free to tell me.

They/them pronouns used!

The Guest

It's just another random day in the underground. Eletronic sounds from improvised machines coming from Donnie's computer station, splashing of the waterfall in the enormous main space and a Hip Hop song echoing around, filling the light dump air of the air.

Leo sat on the edge of the platform where he is used to train, a heavy breathe leaving his mouth, exausted by an intensive training session he just had; several drops of sweat slide over his muscled and hot body, clothing showing dark stains here and there as outcome of his effort. But he was satisfied by his well-conclued work. The leader takes a look around to see what is currently happening in his home, as always. Donnie isn't at his computer station or neither his lab. Well, the genius must be doing who knows what somewhere. Leonardo ran his eyes around carefully to find his purple-clad brother and Bingo! Donnie is lying down, using his tablet, on his improvised bed in the giant pipe hole with purple neon wire making a circle around the edge. Rising the corner of his mouth by the view, Leo watched around again to look for his two troublemakers brothers, but couldn't find any of them. Meybe they are distrubing each other somewhere.

Sighing, Leonardo stands and jumped off the platform, walking towards the kitchen area to take a glass of water.

''Eat Me'' red neon sign above the kitchen makes him think of inappropiate things; of course, he tried to change Mikey's mind when the young brother choose it as decoration, but there was nothing the leader could do. Leo is not gonna lie, that sign suits a lot with the kitchen...

Shaking his head to wash the naughty thoughts away and opening the high cabinet door, he picks his favourite blue glass and headed to the fridge. Opening the door he ran his eyes through the small cold space and found the jar water. After pouring the cold liquid into the blue glass, he let's out a relief sigh as brings it to his mouth, finally swallowing the fresh liquid down his throat. His muscles are exausted to continue the intense training, so the blue-clad turtle decided to take a break.

Suddenly a light beam emerged from behind him.

''What the-''

Boom!

The whole lair vibrated.

He was threw against the cabinets by the shock wave. Groaning, Leo rubs behind his neck; a pair of blue ocean eyes scanned towards to where the defeaning sound came from and saw that there's a thick and dark gray fume hovering in the middle of the big space, spreading around.

"Donnie! You must be careful with your stuff!'' Leo yelled, thinking that this explosion was caused by one of Donnie's inventions.

''It wasn't me, Leo!'' Donnie protested, running beside his brother, who is already in the local of the explosion, trying so hard to see what was demaged.

''What happened?!'' Raphael shouted from a distance with Mikey walking right behind him.

Master Splinter came out of the dojo and gasped while watches the unexpected situation ''Leonardo!'' the old rat called ''Explain what just happaned here. Is everyone okay?''.

''Yes, we are, master. But I don't understand the cause of the explosion. It was so fast.''

''Do not worry, my son. The importand is that no one got hurted.''

Leo sighed relived, placing his hands on each side of his hips and just kept stand there a few seconds, watching everybody disappearing into the dense fume. The brothers walk carefully through it to find a reason of the explosin. But all they can see is the concrete ground was covered with a dark dust, for now.

Then...

Raph gasped when see a silhouette a few steps away from him, the arduous smoke difficulting his view.

The silhouette was crouched, its head lowered between its knees, and arms crossed around its body. Raph grabs his both sais and positioned them beside him, ready for the action. He slowly takes steps towards the stranger, being careful to not scare the unexpected guest.

He knew it is not Splinter because that shape is human.

As he aproaches to the mysterious form, Raph noticed that it is a person. ''What ta hell...'' he whispered. ''Hey!'' He called, but you didn't response, keeping your head down between your knees. "Hey!'' Raph called again, but has received no response yet. The brute's yell called the others attention who went quicly beside him, and got surpried by your presence.

''Who is this person?'' Mikey asked, in shock.

''I don't know.'' Leo said as take a few steps closer to you, his eyes watching you form carefully.

Donnie took a few steps foward as well, and pulled his googles down to scan you and adjusted some annulus to have a better view of your vital signals, and kneeled in front of you. ''Hey'' he called, but you kept your head lowered.

The boys looked at each other, not knowing what to do.

You're so afraid to lift your eyes to see what is happening or where you got. You knew that you're being watched by someone, but a discomfort high-pitched sound disturbs your ears, preventing you to hear them.

Donnie lift his hand and with all careful of the world he touches your shoulder.

You quickly rise your head, and shut your eyes open wide.

Gasping, your breathe got faster as you watch a big humanoid green creature a few inches away right in front of you. Without thinking twice you dragged yourself away from the weird creature who stands quickly and lift his hands in front of him as a peace sign. You could see that it is like a human, but with a green skin and so fucking tall; military green cargo pants, a pair of big boots, suspenders around his... plated chest, and that scary thing he's using above his eyes, or are those literally his eyes?!

"WFT?!" You thought.

"Hey, hey, It's okay!" The purple-clad terrapin said, but all you could see is his mouth moving.

You quickly moved your weak body away from him, but something hits your back, preventing you from escape. Slowly your eyes looked back and chills ran down your spine. A pair of sandals in a feet with two big fingers? Your eyes followed up slowly and saw that it is another creature, but this time it is using black pants over his thighs, something you couldn't describe over his lower legs and nothing on upper body. And... Is it wearing a blue cloth around his eyes?

But, out of all of it, you got surprised of how massive these things are. Where have you arrived? And what kind of aliens are they? Wait, they are aliens, right?

"Hey, it's okay. We're not gonna hurt you" Leo said with a comfort voice but you can't hear a single word from him.

You tried to get up and run away but your legs failed, bringing you to the ground. And an excruciating pain started to roll through your legs, making you groan violently.

"Wow, easy!" Donnie shouted "Leo, they're legs are injured! Keep them on the ground or they will hurt themselves even more!".

"Raph, with me!" Leo ordered but his brother didn't even moved; Raph just crossed his arms and shift his wheight from a leg to another. Leo studied your body language, he knew that if he holds you by your legs he would cause more pain on you, so he made a decision to hold you by your arms.

''Hey, hey. Easy'' he tried to grabs your arms but you fought with all your strength to shove his three-fingered hands away. Donnie noticed that Raph doesn't want to collaborate and groaned, walking towards you and kneeling.

Mikey joined his brothers and could finally grabs your arms and laying you down on your back on the ground. Even with a hell of pain you're feeling you moved your legs to kick your immobilizer but the pain hits you so hard, making you're scream.

''We need to calm them down!" Donnie warned.

''And how we're supose to do it? They're freaking out!'' Mikey said, holding you against the ground while Leo keeps his hands on your hips to keep you immobilized.

Donnie has no choice but talk to you.

''Hey'' he carefully lands his hand agaisnt your forehead to call your attention ''I know that you're scared and that you're not understanding what is happening, but you need to calm down''.

You eyes locked with his amber ones.

''Calm down...'' he repeated ''What's your name?''

You didn't get his words and made a question expression, shaking your head from a side to another as a negative response.

''Um... Do you have a name?'' Donnie asked, and quirked a brow ridge.

''I think they're not hearing ya'' Raph opined from behind ''They didn't answer my call when I called them twice in front of them'' Raph continued, shrugging.

''Really?'' Donnie looked back at his red-banded brother.

''Yeah''

That's make sense...

Donnie payied back his attention on you. How will he comunicate with you now?

Unless...

''Can. You. Hear. Me?'' he asked slowly, making sure that his lips are moving for you understand perfectly. Of course, none of them knows language signal, so moving his lips slowly is the only way to make a communication with you. He could see your eyes locked on his lips while he talks, reading carefully each words formed.

You look back at his eyes and nod negatively.

''Oh no...'' Leo murmured.

''Are they deaf?'' Mikey asked.

''I fear...'' Donnie answered, then sighed ''But I'm relieved that they can understand lip reading. Raph" He called, looking back at his brother who was just stand behind him watching you with caution "Can you bring a pen and a paper, or whatever the thing I can write down?"

''Okay." Raph nodded, making a scary and intimidating face without breaking eye contact with you. You knew that the red-clad creature has something negative about you. His deadly stare says everything.

''Hey...'' Donnie called your attention back, and repeated the same exercise as he did to communicate with you ''Keep. Calm. We. Will. Release. You."

You nodded positively.

The boys slowly take their hands off you, waiting if in case you do another resistance or an escape attempt, but you kept layied there, calm.

''I'll need you guys to help me to take them to a confortable place'' Donnie said ''Mikey, I need you to pick them on bridal style. It's the only way to carry them''.

''But how about their legs?'' the young brother questioned, worried about hurting you by accident.

''I guess it will hurt them a bit but... It's the only way. If you lift them just by their arms, they will try to stand instinctively, and it would make them suffer even more''.

"What kind of injury they have on their legs, my son?" Splinter questioned, emerging and walking beside his taller son.

Your eyes went wide.

A GIANT RAT?!

"I scanned their legs and I found out that they have some brusies and their muscles are demaged. I'm surprised the bones weren't broken." Donnie continued "I'm gonna care their injuries and soon they will walk again. But... I'm not sure when they will be healed a hundred per cent.''

The boys stood around you a minute watching you lay on the ground, thinking and speaking between them about what they must do to help you. And you took it as opportunity to study more carefully their forms. Green skin with scales here and there, tonic muscles on their arms and legs. "Holly fuck shit" you tryied to whisper but your voice cracked, indicating that your vocal chords are very weak as much as your body. For sure that traveling through the portal was pretty bad for you.

Your eyes studied them again and you rise an eyebrow. They're wearing backpacks. Wait, those are not backpacks... are... Shells... Shells?! And why are they're wearing colourful clothes around their eyes? Are they criminals or something?!

Your eyes caught the purple clad creature kneeling beside you again. You are sure that he said something like "alright". He lift his three-fingered hand, approaching it closer to your face and you couldn't help but refuse his touch shifting your head away making Mikey and Leo kneel to hold you still, but this time not too hard as before.

Donnie touches your cheek and sotfly turn your face towards his. "Easy... We. Want. To. Help. You". Then he shares a soft smile.

You have no idea what or who they are, but you knew that whatever they're planning, is for help you. Is for your own healthy and safety. At least, if these massive creatures wanted to harm you, they would have already done it, but all they have done is being careful with you; taking care of you.

You smiled back.

Donnie lets out a heavy breathe, then glanced at Mikey and nodded. Leo stood aside to give his younger brother space enough to adjust himself beside you and pick you up. You quickly turned your eyes back at the purple-clad creature like asking him to tell you what his friend will do.

He just nodded positively, smiling.

Leo positioned himself on your another side to help Mikey, taking care to lift your upper body first. Mikey reached to support your body, placing his arm behind you. And now, the most difficult part: your injured legs. ''I'm sorry if you feel pain. You have to be strong as possible.'' Mikey murmured. But before they could work on your legs, Donnie raised his hand to call their attention and soft landed it on your knee. A soft groan left your mouth but you thanked that your knees were just a bit ached ''Wait! Let's do it one step at time. After I count three, lift them fast. Ready?'' Leo and Mikey give a firm nod. ''Alright. One.'' You read his lips, and asked to yourself why he was counting. ''Two''. Your eyes lower to take a look on your legs, and saw that they're with their hands positioned like would pick you up on bridal style. Wait... Your heart beats faster. Donnie noticed that you are staring at him with wide eyes and shaking your head from a side to another desperately, but there's nothing he could do. ''Three!''

You screamed; a heavy wave of pain ran through your weak legs like a hundred knives were penetrating your meat violently. You threw your head back, your mouth open while agonizing sounds go out; it is hard even to breathe.

''Take them to the sofa. Now!'' Donnie ordered.

Mikey quickly headed towards the .... He has to admit that hearing your protesting painfully in his arms breaks his heart. Never in his life he heard someone scream like you're doing right now.

"Here..." Leo directed, adjusting the soft sheet to lay you down and a sofa pillow to support your head. Mikey bent over to place you carefully on the sofa with Donnie holding your head. "Be careful." Leo commented. It hurt a bit when your legs were landed on two pillows, but as fast as the pain started, it ended.

Finally you can inhale oxygen after a whole minute of suffocate.

"I'll grab a medicine to lower their pain. It will get them tiredness but will worth" Donnie said, turning and heading towards his lab.

Leo and Mikey positioned themselves beside you, his eyes watching over every single movement you do. You kinda felt uncomfortable with them looking at you all the time; feeling totally vulnerable under their care, but you knew that what are they're doing is for you own good.

Your eyes caught another massive form coming closer and your bones started to shiver again. The red-cladded humanoid creature is back but this time he was holding pen and a notebook.

"Hey, guys. This is all I could find at the moment" Raph said while look at the stuff he just took, then his scary stare locked on you.

Your blood freeze.

"Thanks, Raph." The leader grabs the stuff and sat on the ground right beside you. He positioned the pen between his big fingers and the notebook on his lap, and his eyes landed on yours. You couldn't help but appreciate to utmost of how beautiful his eyes are. A deep and vividly color of blue. They're like a painting... You shook your head and looked to opposite side, hiding your blush.

"They shook their head. Why? We didn't make any questions." Mikey said.

"I don't know, but let's find out" Leo continued, writing down "Are you okay?". Finishing, he reaches out his hand and gently touches your shoulder making you snap your eyes back at his. Then Leo lifts the notebook to show you the question.

You read it and shake your hand as "So so" then pointed at your legs.

Leo nodded back, understanding your message, then placed the notebook on his lap again and wrote "My brother will take care of your injuries and certificate that you'll be okay and we will help. Don't be afraid". You read it and show a positive thumb. Leo replaced the notebook back and wrote "I'll introduce us to you". You show a positive thumb again. Then Leo wrote all their names down and lifted it to you."Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo, Raphael, and our father, Master Splinter".

Leo got up and started to introduce them. He pointed at his name and then at him. Then he pointed at Donnie's name and then pointed towards the lab where Donnie is preparing his medical kit. Then Leo pointed at Mickey's name and then at his brother beside him. The young turtle waved, grinning. "So cute" you thought, waving back. Then Leo pointed at Raph's name and at him, an the brute just crossed his arms. "He's kinda... Rude..." You thought again. Then Leo pointed at Splinter's name and then at him who is a few steps away from you. "Wait. Father? Father? Is he they're father?!" You practically yelled mentally. Your mind was filled with many questions about this impossibility of this giant rat be father, or he must be their adoptive father. You prayed to the second option be the true.

You were brought back to reality with another soft hudge on your shoulder, making you look back at his deep blue eyes. The blue-cladded turtle took a deep breathe and made a worry face; and lift the notebook with the next phrase: "We are mutant turtles."

Your eyes went wide. Mutants? How? Since when it is possible? The boys looked at each other already expecting your shock. What kind of place you just arrived where there're mutants?! The mutants made a fear expression, waiting for your scream. But no sound has come out from your mouth.

You just got froze.

''Won't they scream?'' Raph asked, quirking a brow ridge.

''They got shocked'' Mikey simply commented.

Leo sighed and wrote down another sentence. 'Just keep calm. I'll explain everything when you get well soon". You made an effort to nod.

After a few minutes, Donnie went back holding a first aid kit under one of his his slim but muscular arms, a medicine pack between his thick fingers and a bottle of water. Leo and Mikey took a step back to give their brother some space to work on you. First of all, Donatello shows you the medicine pack, holding it in front of you; he looked at Leo and asked for the notebook and the pen, picking it. Your eyes watched every single move he does and you got the conclusion that this mutant has quick skills and much attention in his work, murmuring who knows what while work on you. "Interesting", you thought.

After finish writing, Donnie lift the notebook. "I'll give you a medicine for your pain, but it will make you tired because it has some substances which cause tiredness. If you feel some uncomfortable symptoms, warn me". You immediately rised a positive thumb. You had taken some medicines with that description many times in your life, so you're kind of used with it. But the bad news is that it makes you fall asleep quickly, a scary idea in your opinion. You have no clue what these mutants would do when you're sleeping; if they would do dirty things or something or whatever the shit you refuse to think. You pray, at least, for these mutants do not do disrespectful things.

Donnie picks a pill from the pack and gave it to you, then the bottle of water. All the five mutants are literally watching you doing it, and it made you uncomfortable. You're not used to many people staring at you like that.

After taking the medicine, Donnie mentioned to you lay down again. The nerd placed the first aid kit on the ground and open it, his hands moving some stuff away again and again, his eyes scanning the stuff in the box. What is he looking for, exactly?

Suddenly your eyes caught his facial expression turning from serious to happy. Well, what did he just find to make him smile? The other mutants—except the red one—grinned. "Why the fuck are they grinning?" You thought. Donnie returned his attention to you with his grin. Okay, you don't know if his smile is a good sign or a naughty sign.

Then you started to feel your eyes heavy.

"Fuck... Now now..." You murmued, feeling a weariness filling your body. You hate when this medicine effect affect you rapdly, and you can't fight back.

"Hey, did they say something? I swear I heard that" Mikey commented.

"Well, they can speak by the way" Raph mocks.

Slowly your vision got blur, and the last thing you remember is they debating with each other, then the darkness pulls you for a long rest.

——————Time Skip——————

The light fills the darkness of your sleepy world like a white spot growing and consuming every single space of the dark. You are not sure how much time you slept, but at least all of it was merely dream and those creatures were just an invention of your mind.

Opening up your eyes slowly, you expected to wake up in your bedroom, but, even with your vision blurring and get used by the ambient light, the place seems totally different of your comfortable bedroom. Damp walls, two thick pipes in a corner a thin one on another, and neon lights a few steps away from where you are layied down. As you can feel, it is a comfortable bed. Groaning softly you turned your head to the space illuminated by the neon flashing lights, seeing a shell with a big backpack facing you. Immediately you recognized him.

It was not a dream.

You hear quick types on a keyboard, noticing that this mutant turtle is using his... computers? He was typing who knows what about something you have no idea, and you got surprised how fast this turtle can do it. He might be a guy of technology, you presume.

Wait. Wait...

If you can hear him working, that's mean your hearing came back to normal! You let out a happy sigh, making the genius turn his head towards you. "Oh, you're awake!" He said grinning, but palmed his face remembering that you can't listen to him. The tall purple clad terrapin takes his skateboard and rolled it beside you and sat down. ''How. Are. You. Feeling?'' he asked; you couldn't help but share a soft smile and say with a weak voice ''I'm good... And I can hear you now.''

His jaw dropped, eyes going wide.

''Hey... Are you... okay?'' you asked quietly with the corner of your mouth rised.

''Oh! I'm- Yeah. I'm-'' he rubs his hand behind his neck ''I'm glad you're okay'' he murmured, sharing a shy smile. What is going on here? You started to think that the air got ''tensed'' sunddely between you. Is it good?

''So...'' Donnie started ''About your physical condition, you're getting better. The muscles of your legs are healing and your wounds are cicatrizing. The rest you've just taken helped you a lot.'' he continued ''Uh... I almost forgot: what's your name?''

''Y/N.''

''Amazing.'' he lower his head, trying to not show a light blush over his cheeks which you already noticed. ''So, uh... Who are you, where did you come from and how did you get here?'' he asked quicly without concerns, locking his amber eyes on yours again. Okay, that was expected but too fast as he did. You looked away from his gaze, fearing your answers would not convice or be plausibles for the situation. Well, there's no way out.

''You... will not believe me if I answer honestly'' you said with weak tone.

Donatello cocked his head to the side, quirking his brow ridges.

''I am from another... I don't know...'' you answered, sighing ''Also I don't remember exactly how I got into that portal-''

''Portal?'' He questioned.

''Yes. I do not remember how or who exactly put me in that portal, but all I can remember is of the explosion when that thing closed and then... an uncomfortable sound filled my ears and a sudden ache consumed my legs''.

''Oh, yeah. I noticed it too''.

You started to feel a little shame by your overreact you had when the boys tryied to help you; and you regret ''Sorry for my bad behaving. I was very scared...''

''Hey, there's no need to apologize. You were just shocked and didn't have time to think. It's totally okay.'' Donnie knew that going through a portal and end up in another place is odd and unconfortable, so he and his brothers will do everything to make you feel safe before find out a way to take you home. The nerdy shares a smile and comes closer to you, pulling his googles above his eyes to scan your vital signs. Your eyes went wide. That thing scared you when you saw it for the first time!

''Did you make these?'' you pointed at his goggles.

''Oh yeah! I did it all my own'' he said proundly.

You gliggled ''Amazing! But it scared the hell out of me when I saw it for the first time. I thought it were your eyes or something.''

Donnie chuckeld of your observation, which you're not wrong. ''Sorry, was not my intention. You're not the only one who got scared of my briliant creation.'' he grinned, adjusting some of his goggles annulus here and there, then actived his hologram from his watch and typed on it. You got surprised with his advanced technology, never in your life you have seen something like that. Which year are you?! A distant future?

Are these mutants evolued humans or hybrids?!

''Are you still hearing that unconfortable noise?''

You woke up from your thoughts ''What?''

''That noise you said about. Can you describe how it sounded?'' he asked without leave his attention from his screen.

''Um... it was like... uh... high-pitched sound.''

Donnie noded, still typing on his screen. You're just sit there watching him working on his whatever the thing it is, his three-fingered hand moving and shifting above the screen. ''I guess you got a temporary deaf by the reason of explosion, and I am surprised that it just gave you temporary damages. I thought your eardrums would suffer a rupture and your bones break... Well... I'm glad that you're okay now.''

You beamed timidly ''All thanks to you and your brothers''. It's just you or his cheeks are being filled with a dark colour? "So... before answer your questions, can I ask where am I? Is this place another dimension or something?''

Donnie's locked his eyes on you, not expecting this question ''What? Uh, no... Why? Are you from another dimension?''

You shrugged ''I donno. Where I came from is Earth. It's all can describe to you.

''Oh! Well, you can still keep calm because you're still on Earth''. He smiled playfulness.

You sigh relieved; thankfully you weren't thrown out of your planet. ''And... where exactly am I?...''

''New York City, USA. Technically under it; you're in mine and my family's home in the sewers''.

You froze. New York? Underground? Sewers? ''You got be kidden me...",

''No, I'm not. And... how about you?''

''Originally I'm from (your hometown). But... I just remember being kidnap and then... Everything went dark. The last thing I remember is flashbacks of some men putting me in that portal. Why did they do it? I don't know.'' you shrugged.

Donnie noded again, his head filled with several hypothesis about your weird past event. "And these men... what kind of clothing they were wearing?" he asked, rubbing his chin.

"Uh..." You made a question expression, not getting what does he want to know about something so random. But who are you to refuse to answer? This turtle must know something you don't. "There were some people wearing different kind of clothing. I remember some wearing white coats—like doctors—and... Others in black. All black. Even their masks...''

''Masks?''

''Yes.''

Donnie's eyes went wide. He knows exactly who wear dark clothing as in your description. Foot Clan. He stood and walked towards the exit over quick steps.

''Where're you going?''

''I'll be right back. Stay where you are, okay? Don't you dare escape.'' he pointed at you and then left, leaving you totally alone in his lab. What is he planning, by the way? Perhaps he has some knowledge about those people you have seen? Well, by his sudden shock react, he surely know.

After a few minutes, Donatello has arrived in his lab and going to where you both had a conversation. And he was not alone.

''So... what's the news?'' Mikey shares a cocky smile, picking a chair and sitting on the oposite of ot, keeping the back of this object in front of his plastron and landing his arms above the top rail. Leonardo stood right beside you and Raph a few steps away from your bed, arms crossed and looking at you with no interest, and the giant rat stood beside Mikey, who glanced at his father still with the cocky smile on his face then back at you.

"So, Y/N. Can you explain everything you know for us? We just want to help you, nothing otherwise." Leo assured, but quick steps has approached him and a sudden punch on his arm made him groan. "Help them?" Raph protested "We don't even know who they are or if they work for someone that is not by our side!". Splinter quickly acted, beating his tail behind Raphael's legs to stop "Enough! Let them speak. We will just know if they tell their story.", "But Master, if they lie?!" The brute threw his arms up in protest, but Splinter just shares an intimidating look, making his red-clad son shut up and take a step back. "I apologize, my young one. You can go ahead with your version of your story."

You took a deep breath, feeling a bit uncomfortable for being watched and sorrawnded by five mutants, but actually you don't care. They seem to be good guys—except for the hot head one. For a while, you told every single detail you remember; since your kidnapping till your arriving in this place, the people who put you in that portal, your hometown. It's so weird that all of it happened so fast which you couldn't believe that it took a while—maybe because you were put to sleep as that people did everything they want to you.

The mutants looked at each other, expressions like surprise, shock, suspicious, doubt traveled through each one. You're afraid of they all think that you're lying, well, the red one is already thinking, of course. But how about the others?

"I might think that people in black are members of Foot Clan..." Leo commented after a moment "And the people in white might be scientists. Helpers of-".

"Baxter Stockman." Donnie finished.

''You gotta be kidding me...'' you murmured, surprise that this dangerous clan are in the same universe with them. You thought you got in another dimension or wherever but you literally were transported to another place, just it. And you lived your entire life without know the existence of these mutants. You want to freak out.

''And why would those people put Y/N in that portal?'' Mikey asked ''Like, just them! Were... were you alone when you were transported, right?'' the youngest looked at you with concerns.

''Yes! As I remember, yes...''

"Well..." Leo started "From now on we have a hard work to do. Y/N, you are under our care, and you have to stay down here with us. It's for your protection".

"What?! But-"

Master Splinter takes a step forward and place one of his hands on your shoulder, looking deep into your eyes "You have no choice, my dear. But there's no need to be worry" he smiled "While you're with us, no dangerous will happen to you" then the old rat glanced at Raphael, who groaned and sighed, getting Splinter's message.

You have to be prepared for all obstacles that are coming, and you're thankful that these mutants are by your side. As Leo said before, there's hard work to execute, dangerous or not.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #bayverse tmnt #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2016 x reader #tmnt out of the shadows #tmnt ask #ask #anon ask #four-coloured-bandanas

[foodieforthoughts]

Journey through time - Part 5

Summary: Your relationship with Syverson over the years.

Warnings: fluff and only fluff.

A/N1: Last part to this mini photo series. Thanks to @agniavateira who has provided me with so much inspiration. Also thank you to everyone who read and liked and commented. You guys make me so happy. (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4)

A/N2: I'll be taking a small hiatus from posting fics for now. But I'll be back soon. ❤️

As much as Sy adored his daughter, secretly he had always wanted a son. Two years after Adeline was born, when he was back from his oversees tour for three weeks, Sy took it upon himself to get you round and plump with his kids again. He was overjoyed when you told him over a call that you were pregnant. Although it saddened you both that this time, Sy wasn't going to be around when you gave birth to your child. When you told him he was going to be a father to twin boys, Sy had hollered with glee, making a couple of his men come knocking at his door to see if he way okay. That was a very awkward call, where you were waving at his men while they congratulated you. You sent him a copy of your sonogram, along with a picture of you with Adeline in a care package. "Mini me's," He would say while looking at the picture, "And my princess with my queen." Your heart would flutter like the very first time he had kissed you; upsetting you at the distance and yet also filling you with love. Sy asked his parents to come live with you, help you with Adeline, as you got big and started experiencing difficulty in moving around. When you went into labour, his mother tried to get him on call, just like he had requested. But they were unable to connect to his phone, wondering if he was safe and sound or just away doing things that were expected of him to do as a captain. Your emotions were unbounded when you gave birth to your sons, worrying about Sy and going through the long process without him. The next day, Sy saw his sons for the first time over the video call, happy tears springing in his eyes as you cradled the two boys in your arms. "They have your eyes, Sy. Have you thought of names yet?" You had asked, having decided long time ago that since you had named your daughter, Sy would name his sons. "James and Noah." He had sniffed out, smiling at you lovingly.

Captain Syverson retired as Major Syverson after serving 20 years of active duty. Sy joined as a coach for Little League Baseball team, becoming a favorite amongst his players and their moms. Every morning you would kiss Sy goodbye as he walked out the front door, holding little Adeline's tiny hand in his to drive her to her school on his way to work. Your days were filled with less worrying about Sy's safety and more on providing a loving family for your kids. It helped that at the end of the day, your dining table was occupied with your children and your loving husband, sharing their day's events. Weekends were spent in parks with the whole Syverson clan out for picnics, you watching your husband running around with James and Noah, Adeline who was a spitting image of her father, perched on his strong shoulders. Somedays you couldn't believe your life turned out the way it did, mostly when you would walk inside the living room to find Sy sprawled on the sofa with Adeline curled on his side, James and Noah snoozing on his chest. You would wake him up, carefully peeling your daughter away from her father and take her to bed, while Sy got both boys in his arms with little to no effort and took them to their own room. At the end of the day, when parenthood and responsibilities left you both weary, you and Sy found solace in each other's arms while drifting off to a peaceful slumber.

It was the most devastating day in Sy's life when his teenage daughter told him she wanted to pursue modelling. Adeline was stubborn and opinionated, graced with Sy's beautiful features. He had stared at his daughter with wide eyes, cup of coffee stopping midway to his mouth. "You want me to be okay with grown men gawking at you?" He had gruffly replied, anger evident with his eyebrows knitting together and his lips forming a frown. You had learned over the years to not interfere with Sy's ways of parenting. James and Noah had awkwardly slid off their chairs, both of them avoiding what was to come next. The discussion had ended with father and daughter, arguing with each other, eventually Sy sending a crying Adeline away to her room. Neither of them had spoken to each other the rest of the day, Adeline refusing to eat dinner and Sy drinking too many glasses of whiskey. "I cannot believe she thinks modelling is a career choice." He had scowled later in the night, you both staring at the ceiling while lying in bed. "Didn't you once tell me you had hated your father for sending you off to military school? Do you want your daughter to hate you?" Sy had sighed, turning on his side to face you. "That's different. Adeline's our little girl, it's my duty to protect her." Understanding completely what Sy was feeling as a parent, you had too turned on your side and placed your hand on his scruffy cheek. "You taught her to be strong, independent. She will always be our little girl. Don't you trust her to take decisions for her life? And even if she fails to do what she desires, don't you want to be there for her when she would need her dad?"

The next day you had watched from your kitchen window as Sy and Adeline talked while sitting on the swings in the backyard, ending with long hugs and lots of tears.

While Adeline roamed around the country for fashion shows, Sy groomed his sons to join the army someday. It was not an acceptable behavior, but both of you had your favorites when it came to the twins. Noah, the stronger of the two was decidedly his father's favorite, adding to his delight when by the end of high school, he wanted to go to a military academy. James, the apple of your eye, on the other hand, wanted to become a doctor, much to Sy's dismay. But lessons were learned from the time with Adeline and for that reason only, Sy did not oppose. Noah was sent off to Virginia to a military academy, going on to join the air force as it was affiliated with his school; while James buried himself in studies, moving to Connecticut to attend medical school. Weekends that were spent with picnics in the park, now consisted of video conference calls with your three kids spread out over the country. "It's just going to be you and me in the end." Sy would say, shutting the computer off and looking at you pensively. Wounding your arms around the love of your life, you would rest your head on his shoulder and agree, "Till death do us part."

On your 30th wedding anniversary, Sy gave you an unexpected surprise. He had been missing from the house since morning, only to send a vague text with "Pack your bags and come out in ten minutes." When you walked outside on the front porch, you were left stunned to find Sy dressed in riding gear on a super bike. "I think we need to relive our days from the time we were dating. Come on, I've planned a road trip for us." And with that, Sy had driven all the way to San Antonio for the weekend. With a hotel room on the river, Sy pampered you with all his love and the best Tex-Mex food he could find for you. You spent the day shopping and exploring, while in the night he made love to you with unbridled passion. "My better half," he had called you, kissing your hands while cradling you to his chest. When you both came back home from your trip, you had another surprise waiting for you: Your three children all under the same roof again, holding up a sign board with "Happy anniversary, mom and dad."

Noah had successfully climbed the ranks in the airforce to become Lieutenant at an age younger than when Sy was one. But it was when James, inspired by his twin, decided to join the armed forces as a field doctor, you saw Sy's chest puff in pride. "Syverson men always join the military." He had told his friends over dinner one night, soaking up the praises for his children. Adeline joined a major modelling agency that speared her career forward. She roamed around the globe, sending her old folks trinkets from the new city she was in, and one day added a picture of her and her boyfriend in the mail. Sy turned into a protective father quickly, inviting her and her man to have dinner. "I like him." Your old man had chuckled, when he had scared Adeline's boyfriend, making him blabber incoherently with nervousness. You could only watch in a haze as one day Adeline's boyfriend showed up to your house unannounced, to ask Sy for his daughter's hand in marriage. "Listen boy, Adeline is precious and if you hurt her, you know there wouldn't be anything worse than us. You don't want to be on the bad side of the Syverson men, is that clear?" You had heard Sy warn, a shiver running down your spine listening to his commanding tone, even if the threat wasn't meant for you. A few weeks later, when Adeline was in Paris, she had called home only minutes after the proposal, screaming on the phone that she said "yes." The rest of the night, Sy had you looking at Adeline's baby pictures from old photo albums. "This little bundle would be getting married soon. Can you believe that?" He had laughed, wiping the tear at the corner of his eye and throwing his arm around your shoulders when you couldn't hold onto your own tears.

The day after Adeline, Sy's little girl, was married, he threw a brunch for the newly weds and their families. James and Noah, back from their deployment in time for their sister's wedding, had introduced their own girlfriends to both of you before the ceremony. You knew Sy would never admit it, macho behavior of his never fading, but you could see his eyes glisten watching his family grow. He had tried to keep a straight face throughout the ceremony too, but he had let go of his tears when Adeline had laid her head on his shoulder during their father-daughter dance. Halfway through brunch, Sy pulled you away from the crowd and took you towards the orchard outside the country club. He held your hand while taking you to stand under the shade of a massive tree. "It's like I'm living in a dream." You admitted, looking out at the sprawling orchard, thinking about how you were a mother-in-law to someone. Sy pulled you close to him by your waist, encircling his arms around you. Gray hair on his temples and his face beginning to be marked with wrinkles and yet for you, Sy looked like he had never aged. "I know I don't tell this to you very often, but darlin' running into you, falling in love with you, building a life with you, is the best thing that could have happened to me." He kissed the top of your head, taking your face in his hands before planting a soft kiss on your lips. "I love you and thank you for everything, Sy." You whispered as the birds chirped on the branches above, a whistling breeze blew by carrying the sweet fragrance of fruits in the orchard and you stared at the brilliant blue orbs of the man who had owned your heart and soul since many years ago.

The End.

#captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fluff #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson x you #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic

[asklittlepip]

Here's a fact about me... and a little ranting after that.

After 9/11, I signed up to join the military; specifically, the Army. As some of you may know, I was going to work in the North WTC at MetLife as an IT admin, but made a last minute decision, and thus avoided being a statistic on that fateful day.

Now, I could not actually join due to my heart condition, though I didn't know that just yet, as it turns out that even if I got a desk job working on communications (with the nearby Tobyhanna Army Depot renowed for precisely that), I still would not have been able to survive boot camp and a number of other physical requirements. Seeing as how I kinda died during my heart surgery two years ago, this is a good thing.

I mean, I got better, obviously!

Anyways, I took the ASVAB and got a near-perfect score on the English tests, and an average grade on the mathematics ones, as despite programming and being a computer nerd, that isn't my strong suit. It was more than enough to qualify, however, as it's honestly a much less stringent barrier than what you need to pass to get into most colleges. They just need to ensure you've got a brain in your skull and are capable of learning, really.

Still, I bring this up because every time I see one of these damned redcaps screaming about how they "love America", I have to wonder, what have you ever actually DONE for your fellow citizen?

Have you ever donated to charity? I do, as often as possible, despite having only a few funds to spare. Have you ever performed any public services, and for no personal gain? I have, and as mentioned above, tried to do even more by putting my life on the line for others. If you can't even be bothered to put on a goddamn mask, how can anyone rely on you to watch their backs, when you aren't even going to shield your front?

Endless curses upon those who wave the flag of patriotism, but when it comes down to it, really only care about their own color(s). I don't want healthcare just for people I politically align with, I want it for everyone. Food stamps and welfare programs? I don't want conservatives to starve any more than I want anybody else to either!

In the end, what I want is for the whole world to be better, using the intelligence granted to us by virtue of being human. This can be from a Creator or from science; it doesn't matter where it came from, just that we use it! Otherwise, we might as well crawl back into the primordial ooze and let some better species take our place.

You say you care? Do something to show it. Leave the planet a happier place, for all upon it, not just your own clique. Stand up now, because you might wind up like me and be unable to later..

*waves my cane at you*

#ooc #politics

[riathedreamer]

Zero is Null

A discussion of Zero’s love-hate-relationship with RvB and struggling independence; including a hotdog too big for the bun, tragic backstories, a single bow-chicka-bow-wow, and a cookie at the very end.

Welcome to what will be a lot of text. Basically, it will explore why Zero fails as an RvB (with emphasis on RvB) season. I will not be the first one to bring forth some of the points, and I promise to be fair and civil and fun. This isn’t supposed to be a piece of hate – in fact, I’m writing this because I love Red vs. Blue.

Okay, first of all, to increase your fun – take a guess on just how much of Zero is spent on fight scenes. You see, I’ve calculated the exact amount, and I will reveal it later, but for now, take a guess and remember the number. Maybe you are the winner!

Alright, time to share my thoughts. Wait! Since I suffer from anxiety and have this one annoying voice pretending to be all those critical statements my opinion could be met with, let’s give it an actual voice and address the points throughout this review.

“Why would I care about your opinion, Ria?” – I don’t know, you’re the one who clicked Read More.

“Your opinion doesn’t matter!” – Of course, it doesn’t! Geez. Do you think your opinion matters, though? Listen, we’re on Tumblr, the actual equivalent of screaming into the void. And it’s fun, too!

“If you don’t like it, don’t watch!” - *activates Uno Reverse Card* “You can’t talk about something you haven’t watched!”

“You’re just a Hater” – Actually, this is a point I’ll come back to. Like a cliffhanger. Also, at the end of this, there’ll be a cookie. But this will also include me talking about the stuff I like, because, surprise, Zero is not without talent!

“You just don’t like it because the Reds and Blues aren’t in it!” – Actually, that’s a good point, so instead, this review will start with a sole focus on Zero and discuss the problem that lies within that story. Then we can address why the lack of OG cast is understandable and problematic and weird.

But first! Backstory.

When the first 5 second teaser dropped back in spring (you know, when we were young and innocent and the world didn’t feel like an apocalyptic movie yet), I held onto that one image of what I thought (hoped) to be Grif and Simmons in the sunset, hopefully addressing Grif’s hateglue arc, but boy was I wrong because a) that’s not Simmons, that’s Sarge, and b) the image was from a PSA since the Reds are not in Zero.

Actual face-reveal of me below:

Admittedly, when I heard that the Reds and Blues were not going to be the main characters (or even show up), it felt like a gut punch. However, I actually found myself getting excited due to the creators’ hype. I want to praise them for this. It’s been a while since an RvB season was talked so much ABOUT before its release; it had advertisements, it had creators and voice-actors talking about it. Please. More of that in the future. Their passion rubbed off on me, and that deserves recognition. So it pains me that this was clearly a passion-project, and then when I gave it a try, I didn’t want to touch it again for weeks.

Here’s the thing. I cannot whole-heartedly say that Zero is bad. It’s not gonna melt your eyes. It’s not even so-bad-it’s-good. For me, it’s meh. It’s a Saturday-morning-cartoon aimed for a younger audience with a rushed plot and clichéd characters. The problem is that it calls itself RvB, and with that title comes something to live up to – but more importantly, something to continue.

My main issue is that Zero forces its story into existence by ignoring established content rather than adjusting to it. Let’s call this for the hotdog-too-big-for-the-bun syndrome solely for the sake of the bow-chicka-bow-wow that’s coming now. Bow-chicka-bow-wow. Many of the separate issues I will dive into all add to this hotdog-issue, so I will scream “Hotdog!” whenever this is the case so we can all keep track of my argument.

You can continue the story of Red vs. Blue without the Reds and Blues. While that would personally crush my heart, it can be done. There’s a story of Red vs. Blue that can be continued. The world can be expanded, the previous actions of the Reds and Blues can be explored from another angle.

So.

How does Zero do this? It doesn’t.

I just want to make it clear that new elements can definitely be added when it comes to worldbuilding. That’s literally the point of sequels. But Zero’s settings are presented with so little grace and with no connection to previously established worldbuilding. We get Alliance of Defense and GLASS thrown in our face as very big important organizations – yet we’ve never heard of them before. A big central plot point of RvB is the UNSC and Project Freelancers, and those were introduced naturally with the plot. We already have big established intergalactic organizations. What is AOD’s connection with those? We aren’t told. We are just told they exist and expected to accept it, no questions asked. If this was a whole new world and story – fine. But when you need to build on an already established worldbuilding, you need more grace than this. Chorus was a whole new setting, but it was explained, and it was connected to the previous plot. Same with Iris. Same with Desert Gulch. In Zero, it feels lazy. It feels forced. These organizations are just there because the story is built around them (HOTDOG).

This vagueness when it comes to wordbuilding is also reflected in the settings - we have a desert, a training base, a lab, temples, Tucker’s workplace, and we do not know if all those are set place on the same planet. If that is the case, what is this planet’s relationship with Chorus? Is it Earth? And most importantly, what is the deal with the temples? Why are they connected to Tucker’s sword if it isn’t the same planet. Are they made by the same aliens? Are people okay with this? Why haven’t these temples been explored before? Chorus makes sure to establish this, while Zero doesn’t, adding to a growing amount of confusion.

Okay, so no connection with previous worldbuilding. What about characters? I mean, we got Wash and Carolina and Tucker! So we have RvB characters, it gotta be RvB! Technically – yeah. But it feels dirty. These three characters are not here to be characters. They are here to be props to the new cast. They are not given any development. Their presence isn’t even that important, and if this was a whole new show, they could easily have been replaced with an unknown face. Worst of all, they feel miswritten.

Carolina and Wash are working at a new military organization? Leaving the Reds and Blues behind? To help people? First of all, fucking bad idea, Carolina, the last time you left the Reds and Blues alone, they changed the timeline. But most importantly – Carolina and Wash just joined this new super elite military organization? After being mistreated and manipulated by such an organization in the past?

Carolina is there to introduce the characters. That’s it. We are force-fed their personality by having her literally read out loud their personality. There is no gentle introduction to the new cast. We are not allowed to get to know them naturally. Why show when you can tell, huh? That’s Carolina’s role. That’s why she is there. To introduce the cast and explain their story. That’s it. (HOTDOG).

How about Wash? He is there to get beat up and be a damsel in distress so that the new cast has a reason to explore the plot. Oh, and that brain damage that was the consequence of previous seasons – gone now. The guy who literally has trauma from having an AI explode inside his head is fine with having a computer inserted into it instead. Because that’s needed. To explore his brain damage wouldn’t work now when his role is to be a prop to lure the new cast for one episode and then be put onto the bench for the rest of the runtime (HOTDOG).

And Tucker – he is there to die for a second and have his sword taken from him. That’s literally it. And for the few moments he is there, he feels like old super flirty Tucker, which erases the character development he went through in previous seasons. Okay, so Tucker dies, and then not dies, and then he is put on the bench with Wash where they can sit and talk or whatever (‘cause holy shit, the new cast is not allowed to that), because he isn’t important. The sword is. Tucker is just a prop, even more than his sword is (HOTDOG).

Damn. Wash gets beat up. Tucker gets beat up. Dies. Gets his sword taken away. Almost seems like a Red’s wet dream. Sorry not sorry, Blues, you were done dirty.

So there are miswritten old characters. Even worse is the retconning. The plot needs a “normal” Wash, so, bam, magic computer solution. Never mind Wash’s trauma and character traits. Never mind the logic of the new worldbuilding which also includes a character suffering for years to heal an illness. But the brain damage that was such a big consequence that it became the main part of the plot of the last two seasons – gone. I mean, a gunshot to the head can be healed by CPR. That’s canon. But no one gave Wash CPR so it’s a big thing, okay. It was canonically a big thing, and Zero erased that. This is not me saying that a Cerebral Enhancer couldn’t work in the RvB universe. Imagine it being done right. Wash struggling with the choice of getting used to his disability or accepting the possibility of help - at the cost of reliving his trauma. The struggle between what to choose - what should he choose when he wants to help as many as possible, the sacrifices he thinks he has to make, the way it could have been used as a part of his character growth. But in Zero, the enhancer isn’t a part of Wash’s character. It’s there so the story can work without having to deal with the previous plot’s consequence (HOTDOG).

Same with the sword thing. They sorta explain it by having Tucker flatline, but it’s weak. Honestly, I find it sorta offensive. What about Locus’ sword as well? It’s twisting previous lore to make the new plot work (HOTDOG). (Also, are we not gonna talk about the ultimate power being Spencer Porkensenson’s helmet? Have the writers forgotten Spencer Porkensenson? Have we as a community forgotten Spencer Porkensenson?)

If you have Red vs. Blue in your title, you cannot ignore what you inherit from it. You need to respect the worldbuilding, the established characters, and the previous plot. Zero does not do this.

Let’s talk about the Triplets. No, really, let’s do it. I don’t think I’ve ever talked about them before, because season 14 was a mixed bag for me (that I have now learned to appreciate. Thank you, Zero.) because I have heart at the size of the Grinch and can only love a few characters at a time, and that did not include the Triplets. Can’t even remember their names. Well, I can, but I can’t for the love of me remember which state is which, and my tongue is twisted every time I try to say Ohio, Iowa, and Idaho, and I know it’s on purpose. I know it is. And it got me good. That being said, the fandom actually embraced them really, really well! Seriously, I’ve seen more content for the Triplets than for Zero as a whole.

Why talk about the Triplets? (Was Iowa the lesbian? Or was it Ohio? Fuck.) Because like Zero, they introduced new characters with a story of their own. The Reds and Blues didn’t play a role. But here’s what I feel like the Triplets got right. They didn’t change the settings to force their narrative. They used stuff already established (Project Freelancer), added their own story as a continuation of that. They even included old characters in the beginning (Wash and some other Freelancers) but it felt natural and it didn’t feel like it happened at the expense of the old characters. Wash’s writing felt natural, and his presence wasn’t needed to tell these new character’s stories. He wasn’t a prop to them. He was there to establish the setting and to establish the relationship with these new characters, and then he and the other familiar faces (helmets??) left, and we as the viewers were left with these new characters. And the new characters told their own story by themselves. It felt like, hey, here’s something you know – remember Mother of Invention, and remember Wash’ lower rank, but now, try to imagine being even lower rank than him, aren’t you curious about those fates? Now let’s hear their story! It was new, it was something else, but it didn’t wreck what came before it, and it stayed true to the classic vibes of RvB.

As I said before, the hotdog-issue is my biggest problem with Zero. It infuriates me. I will return to this. But there are more issues, even if we try to look past the title-related problems.

If we try to imagine Zero as its own story and universe (as it should be, in my opinion), it still earns the meh review from me.

These isolated issues include awkwardness, the writing, lack of self-awareness, and pacing. First of all, holy shit, this is a tell, don’t show. Nothing is subtle, nothing is allowed to develop. It’s like the show thinks you are six years old with an attention span of a goldfish. You are not just led by the hand – they have literally pulled off your arm by the end of the show. We are force-fed every bit of information, every bit of personality from these new characters.

The voice-acting is a mixed bag for me. Sometimes it’s pretty good, sometimes it’s not. Some of the problems can definitely be blamed on the dialogue that you can only do so much with. It’s not good. I can’t remember any good jokes (the one joke I really appreciate was the cast on armor, and that was freaking visual humor. That was so RvB. Kudos to that. It was fun. More of that, please.), and RvB is known for having memorably good lines. This is a show built on good, clever, funny dialogue. Zero does not deliver. You have to sit through clichéd lines – “You’re not my dad”, “I trusted you”, “Come with me”, “It can’t be!”, “She’s way too powerful”, and “We have to do this together” – performed unironically. I cringed more than I laughed. Worst thing is that Zero could be a good parody. Sometimes, it feels like it is. One-dimensional characters, a villain wanting ‘the ultimate power’, very overpowered characters, bad one-liners, etc. But Zero takes itself seriously, and I was one of the people rooting for Jax to show up at the end and yell “Cut”. That would have been a funny-as-fuck twist. A spin-off parody. If I can’t have “Sarge the Movie”, I would have taken that and loved it. I would have forgiven everything. “We put so much info into finding that power, but we had no idea what it was” is really a line in the finale, and I cannot believe this is real in a show that somehow still tries to present itself as serious. What a plot.

We have to talk about pacing. God, first of all it should be stated that RvB is a mess when it comes to pacing. I honestly get what they were going for. Sometimes, RvB has come across as a bit boring when you get three episodes stretched over three weeks without much going on. I know season 11 did not have the warmest welcome because it was seen as boring until the finale. But when you see season 11 as a whole, as a movie, as a part of a trilogy, it works so well. Zero is more focused on being episodic. They want something to happen all the time so we will stay tuned. The thing that will happen – a fight. Oh god. The fight scenes.

I have done the math. I have run the numbers. I deserve a freaking cookie for this. Are you ready?

If you put all the episodes together, you have a runtime of 106 minutes. HOWEVER, with the introduction of credits in every episode, you gotta account for this. Removing the credits, this gives us 94 minutes of actual runtime. Out of that, 45 minutes are dedicated to fight scenes. That means 48% of the show is fight scenes.

If I wanted that many fight scenes, I’d watch Death Battle. Except the actual RvB Death Battle episode has a runtime of 20 minutes, and out of that, 5 minutes is dedicated to the actual battle. For the people who hate math – that’s 25% of the actual runtime.

RvB Zero has more fight scenes than a show called Death Battle. Take that in.

The pace suffers from this. Where’s the time to explore the characters? Where’s the time for good dialogue? All I can think of is this:

I get that RvB is a show that’s literally making fun of itself by acknowledging all their characters do is stand around and talk. I get that you want characters to do more than that. But for the love of Church, would it kill the new characters to stand around and talk? For just a minute? Stop fighting, I am begging you, stop fighting! Am I a pacifist now? Am I purple? Have I joined Doc’s team? What has Zero done to me?!

The good thing though is that fight scenes are very good. They’re entertaining. However, they seem to deconstruct themselves when we need to get a fight scene in every episode. Usually, the few fight scenes in an RvB season were in some of the most climatic episodes. In Zero, I can hardly keep up with the pace because they won’t stop moving. Fight scenes aren’t plot. They aren’t character development. You need more than just fight scenes. They entertain, but there’s a limit to that.

Noël Wiggins, the co-writer, stated the inspiration was a Saturday-morning cartoon. They nailed that vibe. If that was their goal, hurray, they have accomplished something! Because of the poor plot and constant fight scenes, it feels like you could just switch on the TV and drop in at any moment and let yourself be entertained by the cool and colorful soldiers punching and kicking each other. I will admit that the fight scenes entertained me. But they don’t make it a good season.

If I were the six-year-old with the attention span of a goldfish that the show believes I am, I honestly would enjoy it. The stiff dialogue and the constant tell-don’t-show makes you feel like an audience that’s not supposed to do anything else but admire the flashy fight scenes. I miss the cleverness of RvB. I miss the characters I get to connect with as I see them grow.

I miss the tone of RvB. Because this isn’t RvB to me.

It’s not that RvB hasn’t changed its tone before. Holy shit, I sorta do want to experience the absolute shock the RvB fandom went through when s6 aired and they were given new characters and serious plot. I would have loved to experience that, but I was too busy being ten years old. The Freelancers seasons also introduced a new tone and more fight scenes with very talented fighters compared to the Blood Gulch gang, but a balance was kept by having half of the season still revolving around the Reds and Blues. But Zero – Zero is so much change. And it’s on purpose. At least this has been made very clear from the beginning.

They constantly seem to appeal to new fans, rather than be directed towards older fans of the show. If you want an entirely new audience with a season with a new cast, new worldbuilding, and new tone, I’m confused as to why they don’t just make a new show. The hotdog-problem begs for this solution. This story and environment and characters feel so out of touch with the original RvB, that with a few rewrites and lack of Halo-armor, it could just be a new show. Problem solved.

If not this, then present it as a spin-off. In all ways, it feels like a spin-off (again, see everything marked HOTDOG). But the creators refuse to do this, and I don’t understand why. I could forgive many of these issues, had they officially separated themselves from canon.

Ah, what’s the idiom? You can’t both swallow and blow? (You can hear the Bow-chicka-bow-wow in the distance). Something about eating cake and having it. Forgive me, English isn’t my native language. POINT IS why are you calling yourself RvB while actively fighting against the core essence of RvB? In my humble opinion, you can’t be both. Marketing it as a spin-off would have granted it some defense when changing, well, literally everything, and I just, would someone please properly describe why it isn’t a spin-off? Isn’t this season marked by its association with the plot of RvB rather than a continuation of it? Zero presenting itself as not a spinoff feels like a toddler clinging to the hem of its mother’s dress while forcefully running away from her, ripping the dress in the process.

When they do connect with the original RvB, it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. When they let Carolina, Wash, and Tucker appear for a moment, it feels like luring viewers in with the RvB title. Look at me. Look at me! I’m not saying this is the case. I say that it gives me the annoying vibes of being lured, rather than letting the characters be a part of the show for their own development, rather than having RvB in the title to continue its story. I should not be getting these vibes at all. But I am.

If you want to use RvB in the title, something from the core of RvB needs to be embraced. Things can be changed. They should. Something new should be brought in. But there’s a limit to how much you can change and replace and twist until it would have been better with an original show. As a season of RvB, it should tell the story of Red vs. Blue.

From my perspective, Zero fails to do so.

It pains me that the old cast has been replaced, but as stated earlier, a season could have worked without them. However, I do not like the take that one should be excited about all the new characters. That it isn’t a big thing that the OG cast got replaced. That we should just deal with it. Just, try to imagine another show suddenly replacing the main characters with characters we’ve never met before. Imagine RWBY suddenly only focusing on a new team of huntresses with the previous main characters reduced to an Easter Egg presence, or Camp Camp suddenly being about a new team of campers, no warning given. Can you imagine the outcry? So maybe let’s agree that a replacement of the main cast is a big thing and should be addressed and it’s valid to be upset about this change.

Could Zero have worked? It’s hard to answer this. How can I accept something as RvB if the season actively pushes away the core of RvB aside for an isolated story that could have been told in any other media? As a spinoff, I could have ignored it. To enjoy Zero, I have to fully separate it from RvB in my mind, and then it’s alright. S’not good. But it’s not bad. It’s entertaining enough. I really ended up liking Raymond and Tiny, and there were a few good jokes, and the fight scenes were admirable (but too much) and I love the creators’ passion. But it’s not RvB. I also wish that the new characters had been attached to previous worldbuilding, for example soldiers on Chorus or agents from Project Freelancer. That way we could build on familiar lore which would have decreased the confusion and added a much needed connection with the previous seasons of RvB.

God, the anxious voice is back (by the way, it sounds like Tutter from “Bear in the Blue House”).

“You’re racist” – I hope not. Literally, I do not want to be. Tell me if I’ve ever crossed some lines, because I swear, that is not my intention, I will apologize and most of all, change and do better. I included this because I’ve seen this take thrown around in the big ugly mess that is the fandom clashes regarding Zero. And racism is problem within RT community (this includes AH and RvB, sorry, I just use RT as an umbrella term for the latter), and I’m not saying it hasn’t been a problem with this season. Writers should never be harassed, and never-fucking-ever because of their skin color, and voice actors shouldn’t be treated like they are responsible for the choices of the show. But I was legit nervous to post this review, and I hope it’s been factual without feeling like personal attacks on the creators because that has never been my intention. I was delighted to hear about the diversity behind this project, and Torrian’s passion legit blew me away because it’s been a while since I’ve seen that for an RvB project. I’d hoped for it to be good, and when I feel disappointed, it’s for the reasons stated in this analysis. That said, Zero is made by a diverse cast and it’s made with love, and both of those things are so, so great, but it does not mean that Zero cannot be criticized. It can, and it should. It’s a product, just like all the other seasons, and fans are allowed to discuss it – both what they loved, and both what they found troublesome. And to repeat previous points, and be respectful, always, fuck racists, and never-fucking-ever harass the staff behind a season, what the fuck is wrong with you if you do this.

“Don’t you get it, it’s different because it’s trying something new!” – Hey, remember the philosophical question: if you replace all the parts of a ship one-by-one, is it still the same ship when you’re done? If it doesn’t include the Reds and Blues, if it ignores previous plot, if the old characters feel miswritten, if it values animation over dialogue, if it values fight scenes over comedy, if it wants to be Fast and Furious instead of Red vs. Blue – is it still Red vs. Blue? Because it doesn’t feel like it to me.

“It's been 17 seasons, it’s time to let the Reds and Blues go so someone else can shine!” – I simply do not understand us having been with the Reds and Blues for 17 seasons should be an argument to let them go, rather than be an argument as to why their absence hurt like hell.

“The Reds and Blues ran out of things to do!” – Did- did they, though? I mean, if we were discussing pretty much any other show, I’d probably agree that they were running out of content. But for the Reds and Blues… I think the PSAs nailed it this year! I’m not kidding, I had more fun watching the Reds and Blues discuss how to do laundry than watching Zero. You could literally give me an hour of the Reds and Blues trying to bake a cake or clear a gutter or simply settling down with an ordinary life, and I would trust them to make it worth the watch.

“The flaws were due to the fact it’s only 8 episodes long!” – Look, I can only judge a product the way it’s presented to me. I cannot come up with excuses for it. If they had 8 episodes to work with, they need to come up with a plot that works with this runtime. Seriously, this excuse cannot work when 48% of the season is spent on fight scenes. They could have used more runtime, sure, but the show needs to be able to pace itself and be planned accordingly.

“The OG cast couldn’t be a part of this year, hence Zero!” – That might be true. But. Would one year without RvB kill it? Is Zero necessary? Again, I just can’t judge excuses for the show. But trouble with the cast has been an issue before. Season 15 solves Geoff’s sabbatical by actually making Grif’s absence a part of the plot. Zero’s lack of Reds and Blues just feels like this excuse to tell a story that needn’t be a part of RvB.

Am I a hater? I guess? I greatly dislike Zero for the critique stated above. I do, however, not harass the creators and no one should ever do that. However, I have to admit that I feel there’s been this weird rejection of any critique of Zero where everything’s been brushed off as haters gonna hate, including the critique stated above. And I think that’s a problem because critique, as hard as it can be to hear (and I know this. I’m an author of original works. Weird flex, I know), is valid and necessary and shouldn’t just be shrugged away. As always, both sides of the fandom should always be respectful, but my own opinion is that addressing the flaws of Zero should not be controversial.

Does this super long rant/critique/whatever mean you cannot enjoy Zero? Gods no! I almost envy you if you enjoy this season, but holy shit, feel free to love it and tell the creators that you love it! Me pointing out the issues I have with the season shouldn’t be stopping you. I loved (and still love) s15 when it came out, and it was majorly rejected by the fandom. There were many, many critical posts, people were going on about how RvB should have ended with s13, and it evolved into the writer receiving death threats (me, once again: never ever harass the creators, assholes). But I didn’t tell people to stop being negative. I actually agreed with many of the flaws that were pointed out, and I enjoyed the season despite this, because that is possible. We, as RvB fans, should agree that RvB, is... I mean, it’s not the greatest, most flawless of shows, but we love it nonetheless. So go ahead and love Zero. This is not a stop sign. This is my opinion that you chose to read.

Wait, I promised you a cookie, didn’t I? Well, you’re not getting one. Why? Because I’m a Red and this is my chance to piss off a Blue. As Caboose wisely said: “Well, at least I don't go around... knocking on people's non-doors... and promising them cookies... and then NOT. GIVING. THEM. COOKIES!”

Blue Team sucks.

End speech.

#rvb zero #rvb #rvb zero critical #rvb critical #rvb0 #my rvb stuff #pls dont hate me for this #this is my honest opinion that people apparantly wanted to hear #as a standalone story zero isnt totally bad #as an rvb season it is

[pl-panda]

The vines that bind us - Chapter 9

Chapter 1 || Previous || Next

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She opened the window and picked a pencil. With deadly precision she tossed it. The wooden tool sailed through the air until it hit the binoculars and broke one side of them. She huffed and closed the window before pulling the curtains closed. How rude.

Jason cursed under his breath. Any other day he would probably avoid the projectile, but it caught him completely by surprise. By all accounts, it was physically impossible to use a pencil with such precision and force to destroy military-grade night-vision binoculars. At least the memory card was safe so he could give it to replacement later on for analysis.

Still in bad mood after having his gear ruined, Jason zipped to Dupain-Cheng’s window and gave a light knock. No response. Another knock. Still no response. Finally, after the third knock, the blinders opened and the window itself followed, revealing a very angry girl. Jason finally had a chance to get a better look at her. She did, in fact, have blue hair and now that he’d seen it close, he would bet half his paycheque that it was somehow a natural color. The purple too. She must have had her hair dyed for the first day of work. Her eyes were another part that he memorized. They were blue and iridescent green at the same time, giving a slight unnatural aura. Or maybe it was just that she looked ready to murder him.

“Are you done staring?” She asked, clearly annoyed. “You are not my type and much too old. And the stalker routine is plain creepy. Get lost old guy.”

She was about to close the window when he started speaking.

“I actually came to apologize. I did not ‘stalk’ you, thank you very much. I was just checking on you, miss. You do realize that you single-handedly kicked Riddler’s ass and got quite a bit of publicity.”

“Suuure. You do that for every brave citizen?” She asked with a raised eyebrow and a small grin. “You would be really short-staffed. I hope that overgrown furry does pay you for the overtime.” Any traces of amusement disappeared from her face. “Now get lost before I sic Chloe on you. She recently started dating Damian Wayne and the two seem to bond over ruining people. I’m sure you would make a decent target.” Without further ado, Mari closed the window and put the blinders back in place, completely cutting him off. 

Jason didn’t protest. He was too busy processing the fact that Demon Spawn apparently started dating someone. Oh, he would have so much fun teasing the little menace. 

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

When the motorbike entered the Batcave, Jason expected to meet perhaps the Replacement or Demon Spawn. He definitely did not expect to see the entire family sans B and Alfred. 

“Do you want to perhaps explain why dad received an angry call about ‘some idiot in red bucket’ stalking her through the window?” Barbara asked. frowning deeply. 

“Or at least why were you stalking her?” Dick added.

“Or where you hid my coffee?” Tim joined.

“Timothy!” Several of them shouted.

“What? It’s important!”

“Back to the matter at hand.” Dick turned back to Jason. “What exactly were you thinking?!” He screamed.

“Geez. You thought about joining some opera?”

“Tt. Answer the question.” Damian interrupted.

“That reminds me. Did you know Demon Spawn got himself a girlfriend?” Jason asked, trying to deflect. He really did not like how they jumped at him.

“Not… important.” Cass stared daggers at him. “Talk.”

“Fine!” he threw hands in the air. “I followed a hunch. And I was right. She is a meta!” He procured his destroyed binoculars. “There is no human way to destroy military-grade equipment like that with just a pencil.”

Tim picked it up and quickly tossed it onto the table nearby. A blue light scanned the products and the bat-computer started to display the scan plus introductory analysis.

“Well, he is right. There is no way that a simple pencil could destroy it.” He pressed some buttons and recording from the last seconds of the item’s life played. They could clearly see her throw a pencil at it and then everything went black. “Or I was wrong.” Tim started to do a series of calculations. 

“Bucket-head might be onto something. With her muscle mass, it would be impossible to throw a pen with enough force. Actually, it’s almost impossible to make that throw. Not with human muscle density…”

Barbara rolled over to him and the two started to work side by side. “But that’s also not probable since the body is not…” 

“She would probably…” 

“Plant fibers have a similar structure, but she would…” 

“Maybe… Unless she is not strong and instead…”

“Um… earth to nerd corner. Can you explain?”

“Jason might have hit the bullseye.” Tim grinned and several groans could’ve been heard. “She is definitely a meta. It still doesn’t explain why you stalked her.”

“Is that not reason enough?” Red Hood asked. He immediately regretted it when Duke stared daggers at him. 

“You do realize, that metahumans are not as rare as it was believed at the beginning?” Tim asked.

“What?”

“Roughly ten percent of humans are born with dormant meta-gene and the number is increasing each year. And about one in twenty people have an active meta-gene. They just don’t go around wrecking everything or don a cape and run around beating people.” Tim spoke in a matter-of-factly tone. 

“What?”

“Yeah. Eidetic memory, or perfect recall for our uneducated bucket-head,” Tim snickered while Jason grumbled.

“I hate that name.”

“I think it will stay for a while.” Stephanie was smiling. “She does have a way with nicknames. First an overgrown furry, then red Buckethead…” She was on the verge of laughing. “I wonder what she does next?”

“As I was saying,” Tim regained the control of the conversation, “eidetic memory is actually one of the earliest forms of registered active meta-ability.”

“What?”

“The gene tends to activate under extreme duress, but, as we learned, the definition of extreme duress varies from person to person.”

“So what? A guy afraid of failing an exam might accidentally unlock super memory?” Jason dismissed it.

“More like if someone lived in years under pressure and is about to crack.” Dick pointed. “I mean there was even this large awareness campaign about four years ago led by Beast Boy. Where were you?”

“Dead.” Jason deadpanned. “I was dead.”

“Oh… I guess you didn’t see Garfield’s movies then?” Steph asked, being the first to break through the heavy atmosphere.

“She is still a meta.” Jason tried to fight, but his arguments were wavering. 

“Which changes nothing. You will go to her tomorrow and apologize.” Tim said categorically. 

“Ugh! Fine. But I got one more interesting fact: Demon Spawn got himself a girlfriend.” He grinned and turned to Damian. Everyone followed his gaze.

“Tt. I have no idea what you are talking about Todd.” 

“That blonde! Charlie saw you two sitting and eating pastries together! She is the new intern!” Dick had a big fat smile on his face and his eyes were almost glittering. “Who is she? How did you two meet?”

“Blonde?” Tim suddenly paled considerably. “There is only one blonde intern. Please tell me you aren’t dating Chloe Bourgeoise of all people!” He squeaked.

Damian wanted to deny it further, but seeing the Replacement’s reaction he changed his mind. The grin that formed on his face was borderline malicious before turning back to the emotionless mask he wore every day. “Yes. She finally admitted that I was not at fault for the cake incident. She is actually tolerable now.” 

“What cake incident?” Steph asked, smelling some juicy story about her ex. That kind of story was the best.

“Tt. When we were at this gala in Paris two years ago, Replacement attacked me and we fell into the birthday cake.”

“It doesn’t sound…” Dick started, but Damian interrupted him.

“The cake had six levels and was about as tall as I am now. Mayor Bourgeoise was not happy that we ruined his precious princess’s birthday.”

“So that’s why we no longer go to Paris?”

“Tt. No. That’s because Jason almost trashed the Louvre.” 

“Right…” Tim mumbled while his eyes closed. In just a moment, he was snoring away on the chair.

“Damn. I thought it would work faster.” Barbara complained while peeling the near-invisible sticker away from his neck. 

-----

Thursday actually passed without any trouble for Marinette. The class finally got it through their collective single brain cell that she had the power to end their trip with two words. She was slowly getting the grip on the work and after some talk with Penny, where the woman practically forced Mari to listen to some additional advice. She was actually offended that the girl didn’t call her immediately. 

She did have to practically drag her barely conscious boss to a meeting in the afternoon, but he didn’t put up much of a fight after she gave him a Tikki Special Coffee. The small goddess giggled inside her pocket the entire time as the boy begged on his knees.

After work, she and Chloe went to the Gotham Zoological Garden. At first, she wanted to go to the Botanic Garden first, but their class was supposed to visit there after work, so the girls went to Zoo instead. Gotham had a much broader collection of birds than Paris did. And the less chance of running into their classmates, the better.

“...He did what?” Chloe asked louder than necessary, but nobody paid the two girls in smart outfits any attention.

“Yeah. But don’t worry. I gave him a piece of my mind.” Mari dismissed it.

“It’s still creepy.”

“I know. That’s why I sicced the police at him.”

“That’s my girl!” 

“Well, I threatened to send you and Damian after him, but I decided it would be too cruel.” She smiled. “Besides, I’ve seen that Red Buckethead is trending already.” She pulled out her phone and showed a post there was a picture of Red Hood next to a reversed red bucket.

FashionMari @QueenGoldie Someone in a red bucket was stalking me. I was torn between calling the police and criticizing their fashion choice. In the end, I did both. 

“Only you Goldie. Only you…”

--------

Friday was press conference day. For once, Mari woke up earlier and got dressed in record time. Chloe watched from the side-lines as the girl moved around like a tornado, preparing everything and triple-checking all arrangements. She changed outfits four times before finally the blonde grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to sit down. 

“Goldie! You know I love you and I would kill for you,” She started, “but if you don’t calm down I will tie you up and leave you here for the day.”

“But…!” Bluenette tried to protest, but Chloe cut her off.

“No buts. We are only sixteen. I for one came here to learn a bit and maybe meet someone. You are supposed to be learning. Nobody said anything about getting a full-time job.”

“The deal…”

“So what if they fire you?” Chloe raised her hands over her head. “Ridiculous! Utterly Ridiculous! You have Gabriel Agreste and Audrey Bourgeoise fighting over who will get you while Jagged Stone is willing to fly over half the world just to give your references in person. You run a very successful flower shop and even more successful boutique.”

“But…” She tried to muster a weak protest, but Chloe’s angry gaze made her wither. 

“I will not let you run yourself dry!” The blonde stated firmly. “So either you take a step back and breathe or I will call your uncle.”

“Not uncle Jagged! he already banned me from drinking coffee!”

“So you will behave?” Chloe asked with a smirk. 

“Fiiiinneee!” Mari couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Queenie. I needed this. I’m glad I have you as my friend. And sister.” 

“Well of course you needed me! Everyone needs me!” She huffed before her expression became more gentle and she pulled Mari into a hug. 

Downstairs the class was waiting for them. Probably they finally gathered the courage to confront her about Alya’s fate. The girl shouldn’t have lied while filing for promotion. Mari and Chloe stormed past them not even sparing them a glance. Outside, Adrien was already waiting inside the limousine with Gerard at the driver’s seat. 

“I’m glad your driver is finally here.”

“Me too!” The blond boy was practically beaming. “I’m free from Lila’s clutches.”

“Could you drop us at… No. 2 Twine Street?” Mari asked the gorilla, who only grunted in response.

“Um… We should be going to Wayne Tower.”

“Nope.” Mari popped the ‘p’. “You,” she pointed at Adrien, “are an intern in PR. I asked for you to be present at the press conference to help move stuff around and so on.” 

“And me?” Chloe asked. “If you expect me to…” 

“You’re there to support your boyfriend. He was the one that practically demanded that I get you there. He hates publicity.”

“Oh… Good then. Let’s go.”

“Boyfriend?” Adrien asked curiously. “You mean Wayne?”

“Yeah. Apparently Chloe found herself a partner in scheming.”

“I bet that their dates are filled with planning to take over the world.”

“We could’ve taken the world over by lunch if we wanted.” Chloe looked almost offended. “The question is what way would be the most suitable one.” 

All three of them broke into laughter as the car rode through the city of crime.

----

About fifteen minutes before the press conference was scheduled to start, Tim Drake was still not there. None of the Waynes were there in fact. She sent about fifteen angry messages to Mr. Drake and he was still not here, which only fueled her stress and anger. 

The press had no idea so far and they were eagerly awaiting whatever news the company wanted to present. She bit her lower lips. Chloe was on the phone, trying to reach her boyfriend.

“If that idiot doesn’t get here in the next ten minutes, I’m going to consider stabbing him.” 

“Damian?!” Chloe shouted into her phone. 

“Tt. What do you want?”

“First of all, that’s not how you talk to your girlfriend. Second of all, where in the world is your excuse of a brother?! Mari is an inch from going ballistic!”

“Tt. He’s asleep.” Damian answered in an impassionate tone.

Mari leaped over and wrestled the phone from Chloe. “You go to him right this moment or I swear to all that’s holy and…”

“I get it.” He interrupted her, showing signs of irritation. There were some static and the camera blurred for a moment from the fast motion. When it returned, she saw barely awake Tim Drake wearing blue onesies. 

“wah…”

“Get yourself cleaned up and into a suit in the next three minutes!” She shouted. God bless the soundproof backstage.

“Um… But I will never make…”

“I’m certain you have a great webcam somewhere in this big mansion of yours. Set it in the library and call me in the next few minutes. I so hope you were not supposed to be the model because gods help me…” She took a look at his terrified face. “Of course you were…” 

“In my defense…”

“Shut up. Get going!” She hanged up and turned to Adrien and Chloe, who were looking at her with a mixture of fear and awe. “What are you waiting for?!” She tossed a package to the boy. “You get dressed in the new product.” She pushed him outside and into the janitor’s closet on the other side. “And you’re coming with me!” She dragged Chloe toward the main room. The blonde was sent to the technics room to get the feed started while Mari stepped on the scene. The chatter died quickly and all reporters turned to her.

“Hi. Please forgive us for the slight delay. We have minor technical difficulties that are being solved as we speak. In the meantime, you are free to take the seats. The conference is about to start.” 

Behind her, a screen slowly descended. She saw Adrien leaning from the doors leading backstage and smiling at her. 

“Without further ado, I present you Tim Drake, CEO of Wayne Enterprises.”

The image of the teen with black hair appeared on the screen and he waved everyone. He was holding a red cup of coffee with black polka dots, the same Tikki summoned for him the first time. 

Satisfied with herself, Marinette allowed herself a moment of rest. The conference was going well and after a minute of silence for the dead in the recent attack, the presentation began. Adrien was a natural model so it all went great. Wayne Tech in co-operation with Gabriel brand was introducing a new line of ‘smart’ fabric that could withstand medium stress and was almost impossible to dirty or stain. She had to admit it was quite amazing. Apparently, it was partially how Mr. Agreste got her class internship. Granted, Adrien was not supposed to be the model but you don’t look a gifted horse in the mouth. 

Everything was going great until the doors to the room were kicked open and several goons barged in, followed by none other than Two-face. Everyone immediately fell onto the floor. Mari couldn’t help but sigh exasperatedly. Why did it have to go wrong at every turn?

Ignoring the terrified stares, she stormed toward the intruders. “Excuse me, sir?” She asked with an emotionless face.

“What?” The man looked clearly irritated.

“I don’t see your name on the guest list. Did you remember to call in advance?”

“Of course not! Do I look like…” The criminal was clearly angry. 

“Then I apologize, but I must ask you to leave now.” 

“Do you have any idea who I am?” Two-face pulled his gun.

“I’m sorry, sir, but if you are not on on the list, I can’t let you stay.” She said in an emotionless voice. Mari was honestly too tired to care at this point. Maybe at least the evening would be better.

“I’m not sure you get the situation, miss. I’m not here for the interviews. Everyone pull out your wallets and drop them in the sacks!” He shouted while his men started to walk around.

“Hm… That won’t do.” She said. After muttering something under her breath, Mari tossed her clipboard. The spinning board hit one of the mooks in the head, knocking him cold, before bouncing and hitting the next one. After that, it returned to her hand. 

That was enough for Two-Face. He aimed his gun at her, but she moved faster than he anticipated. Within seconds, she grabbed his wrist and pushed it up so he was aiming at the ceiling. She squeezed it hard enough to make him drop the gun right into her other waiting hand. The girl let go of his wrist and disassembled the gun into pieces in what could become record time. 

Now irritated, Mari grabbed Two-face by his tie and pulled him down until they were at the same eye-level. 

“I was trying to do it peacefully sir. I am now ordering you to leave. Otherwise, I will actually have to hurt you.” She leaned closer until she was able to whisper. “And don’t make mistakes, Dent. I can and will hurt you.” For a moment her eyes lost the blue coloring and became entirely iridescent green, glowing slightly. 

Harvey Dent rarely felt fear. His life was more often than not guided by the toss of a coin. Now though, he stared in the eyes of Poison Ivy, except ten times scarier. He was already afraid of that woman after she almost fed him to her ‘precious’.

“I… I am deeply sorry madame.” He spoke carefully. “Men! We are moving out. Leave the bags!” And with that, they were all gone. 

Most of the reporters gave Mari big applause. There was only one angry old man that stared daggers at the girl. 

“You let that scum go away!” He shouted. “He was a criminal.”

“Sir. You are free to go after him if that’s your wish. I’m at work and my job description never included chasing after criminals.”

“But… But…” 

“Anyway, we were in the middle of the press conference if I’m not mistaken.”

-------

NEXT

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous lb #batman #BatFam #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #BAMF Marinette #Mother!Ivy #redeemed!chloe #Good!Adrien Agreste #dc #MLB #mlb x dc

[logicgunn]

Home Is Where The Dog Is

This is my answer for day 9 of The June Something.

Drop the cast of a fandom you follow into a reality tv show - who/what/why?

There really was no competition for the show, it had to be Pit Bulls and Parolees.

If you want to read my other answers, find me here.

*****

Pitbulls and Parolees

John Sheppard

Major John Sheppard was incarcerated for “conduct unbecoming” while serving in the United States Air Force. To no one's surprise, least of all his father’s, he was dishonourably discharged on release. He came to the attention of the rescue through former volunteer Evan Lorne (also ex-military) and was employed on the spot.

John had a dog growing up, a chocolate pit bull bitch called Nova. He will happily talk for hours on camera about her or the centre’s rescue dogs, and he knows each individual pit bull’s quirks and likes and dislikes, but when asked about his time in prison only has two words to say:

“No comment.”

At first, John didn’t seem to click with anyone other than the dogs until Rodney McKay joined the team. The two of them spend all their time together, even now that Rodney’s only around sporadically. Do we spy a blossoming romance?

Rodney McKay, PhD, PhD

Doctor Rodney McKay, PhD, PhD, served three years in a Nevada State prison for gang-related activities. He was released early for good behaviour and “considerable contributions to National Defence” while incarcerated. Towards the end of his prison sentence he entered the program through the Nevada State Outreach Program.

Rodney’s introduction to the rescue was...problematic to say the least. No one could figure out why a self-proclaimed cat person with no dog experience applied for the program, but it turned out that he was signed up by his former gang leader because she was “worried about him being lonely in his post-gang life”. Things started looking up when a blue brindle pit bull bitch called Luna started following him around like a lost puppy. Rodney ended up leaving the program and adopting Luna, but he visits the rescue as often as he can to help out in between work details in NORAD, and to spend time with John.

“What do you mean you want to know about my former gang life? I was never...look, this is really important...I was never in a gang. Never. Not even for a second. I didn’t even know there was a gang. I just...I moved to Nevada on a temporary work contract for the military, and yes it was at Area 51, but no I can’t tell you anything about it...but the point is that they offered me a house on the base and...God, can you imagine? Screaming kids and Wine Moms and...just no. So I looked for something to rent privately and found a cheap apartment in a complex a half-hour drive from work, and my landlord was a nice old woman – oh God, can I say that? Is old a slur? - anyway, she was a very nice woman and her name was Maria and she made me cookies when I came in to view the place, oat and raisin, not chocolate chip, and she told me the going rate was eight hundred dollars a month, but because I would be living alone and didn’t have a wife and kids she’d drop it to six-fifty and...look, I really didn’t have a lot of options. The job was well paying but there were relocation costs from Canada and I hadn’t been paid yet and...do you know how expensive it is to ship computing equipment from Ontario to Nevada? With a guarantee that it will be in full working order at the end of the journey? It’s extortionate, absolutely extortionate. So anyway, there was a nice older woman and oat cookies and cheap rent and it was fully furnished – did I mention it was fully furnished? With the comfiest queen-sized bed, no less, I’d have paid double for the bed alone, but...where was I? Yes a nice older woman and she owned the whole complex and most of the other apartments were inhabited by her nephews, she had a lot of nephews, and she got them to help me carry my equipment up the stairs because I was on the third floor. My flat was right next to hers and on days when I got home late and I was exhausted because I had to...well...whenever I had a hard day at work, I’d get home and she’d knock on the door and bring me dinner, real, home-cooked food, risotto, lasagne, soup, pasta and sauce – not sauce out of a jar but sauce that she made from scratch from tomatoes and herbs and olive oil. God, and the parmesan, have you ever had real, Italian parmesan? She said I needed to strengthen up so she fed me sometimes and in return, I made sure my rent was always on time and whenever her kitchen sink was acting up I went round and fixed it and when she needed groceries I drove her to the market and...look we became friends, okay? I even sometimes talked to her nephews in the hallway. I had no idea they weren’t her real nephews, I just figured she came from a very large, very Catholic family...but that’s not the point. The point is, she invited me round one day for dinner and there were a bunch of her nephews there with their wives and a handful of really friendly women I'd never met before...really friendly and kind of handsy...and we were drinking and there was music, and some of the guys showed me their tattoos, they had matching tattoos you see, not big and gaudy and highly visible, but discrete, small, on their chest right over the heart and...well I was pretty drunk and so when someone asked me if I wanted one I couldn’t really say no, could I? Maria looked so hopeful, so I said yes, sure, okay, and she was so happy and she got a tattoo gun and asked me what colour I wanted and I said she could pick and she filled it up and pressed it to my skin and it hurt, a lot, but it made her so happy so I didn’t complain, and the second she finished the cops burst into the apartment and arrested everyone. Now I have a criminal past and a tattoo that I can’t wash off with rubbing alcohol and...but the General in charge of the SG- uh, in NORAD said he might be able to have my record wiped clean under the circumstances. I have to live with the tattoo though.”

Teyla Emmagan

Teyla is one of the few female applicants to the program, and she brings with her a wealth of experience in canine care, having grown up in a family of ethical dog breeders. In fact “ethics” is her middle name – she has recently completed one of several prison sentences for “eco-terrorism”, i.e. handcuffing herself to a tree in the Amazon to try to fight deforestation. The judge who sentenced her warned her that the next incarceration would likely be in years rather than months, so she hung up her chains and turned her attention back to her other passion.

The dogs absolutely adore Teyla. She brings a much needed warm, serene disposition to the centre and has a reputation for easing even the most terrified of new rescues and calming any pit bull that gets overly territorial. In return, the dogs are fiercely protective of her, going so far as to ward off would-be aggressors (much to the detriment of her love-life).

When asked about her arrest and sentencing, she had this to say:

“Stop denying our planet is dying. Mother nature does not need us, we need her.”

Ronon Dex

Ronon Dex, a former oncologist at MD Anderson, Texas, was charged with unlawful killing when he helped a terminally ill patient end her own life. The trial was a highly publicised affair with the media in the courtroom for the entirety of the incredibly taxing thirteen-month trial that was further complicated by the concurrent and often hostile social pro-life and pro-dignity social movements in the state. The trial had to move location several times due to violent protest and eventually had to be conducted in a secret location and secured by the national guard, costing the government over $7m. Each participating news outlet was requested to dedicate a single reporter who would remain on location for the entirety of the trial, with their reports being scrutinised for any detail that might pinpoint their location. This led to even more disruption from the Free Press movement, but when all the national news providers signed on, things started to settle down.

Ronon always wanted a dog growing up, but his family’s migratory lifestyle made it an impossible dream. The very first thing he did when he started studying medicine was to adopt a chihuahua, name her Lola, and move her into his dorm. Everyone, from his roommates to the dorm warden to the professors to the Dean was aware of Lola’s presence, not least because he carried her around campus in a rainbow cross-body bag and fed her treats to keep her quiet in class. Naturally, no one dared to confront him about it. He had to give her up when he was incarcerated and he got the sad news that she passed away a month before his release. At the request of the prison warden, his application to the program was fast-tracked, and on the day of his release, he moved straight into a trailer on the outskirts of New Orleans. When asked about his imprisonment, Ronon had only the following to say:

“I have no regrets. If it had been anywhere but Texas, it wouldn’t have been an issue.”

When not at the rescue centre, Ronon can be found on the beach swimming with his adopted Portuguese Water Dog, Zeus.

#McShep #Stargate Atlantis #The June Something #June Something #Humour

[wisteria-lodge]

Character Analysis - Sorting Sherlock Holmes (Sir Arthur Conan Doyle)

a quick note on why I’m moving away from the HP terminology

So @sortinghatchats is brilliant. Absolutely my favorite character (and person!) analysis system. Instead of one house, you get two - a PRIMARY (your motivation, why you do things), and a SECONDARY (your toolbox, how you get things done.) A very stripped down refresher --

IDEALIST PRIMARY Lion/Gryffindor - I do what I feel is right. (MORAL) Bird/Ravenclaw - I do what I decide is correct. (LOGICAL) LOYALIST PRIMARY Badger/Hufflepuff - I do what helps my community (PEOPLE MATTER) Snake/Slytherin - I do what helps me/my inner circle (MY PEOPLE MATTER)

IMPROVISATIONAL SECONDARY Lion/Gryffindor- Charge! React! Smash the system! Snake/Slytherin- Transform, adapt, find the loophole. BUILT SECONDARY Bird/Ravenclaw - Plan, make tools, gather information. Badger/Hufflepuff - Community-build, caretake, call in favors.

Now let’s talk Sherlock Holmes!!!

***

Mycroft Holmes has a terrifying Bird secondary. He knows everything. He sees everything. He holds all the information in his head, all the time, and can tell you exactly how it connects. “Spymaster Mycroft” didn’t become proper fanon until 1970: in the books he’s more like a human computer, or a Mentat from Dune. This man is incapable of improvising. He hates casual conversation, hates changing his routine, just wants to sit and process and plan. He is the cartoon version of a Bird secondary.  

Mycroft is so insanely ‘big picture’ that he barely notices specific individuals. He’s off in in the corner thinking about currency regulation and the situation in Siam. In “The Greek Interpreter” he hears about a woman who might be starving to death… and sort of vaguely puts it on his to-do list. Sherlock ends up handling it.

You could make a case for either a Bird or Lion primary. But I’m going with Lion. Mycroft values instinct like Lions do (”All my instincts are against this explanation.”) And Sherlock describes him as someone who “would rather be considered wrong than take the trouble to prove himself right.” This is teasing, but it’s a joke about a Lion who just sort of feels the answer, not a Bird who needs a reason to be correct. Mycroft’s Cause, the one we see him respond to emotionally, is the smooth functioning of his world. He has a little pocket carved out for his brother, but if he had to choose between the country that he embodies and Sherlock Holmes’ well-being, it’d be England every time.

Knowing that Mycroft has that much power but doesn’t care about individual people makes Sherlock... uncomfortable. It takes him a while to even mention his brother to Watson. And then he lies about how important Mycroft’s job is. Thematically, this where Moriarty comes in. James Moriarty – the older genius hiding deep in the establishment, running a criminal empire from behind a tenured professorship, never getting his hands dirty – is Dark Mycroft. Because Sherlock is pretty sure his brother is one of the good guys. He’s pretty sure Mycroft isn’t going to break bad and go full-on ‘ends justify the means’ supervillain.

But… like… he could.

Sherlock Holmes is also defined by his Bird secondary. His deductions, data, knowledge of crime – it’s his loudest trait. But it’s a model. He tells us it’s a model. This “habit of observation and inference which I formed into a system” is something he built – and honestly, he probably built it for Mycroft. The Holmes brothers don’t do conversations, they have deduction games. Sherlock never wins, but at least he plays on Mycroft’s level.

(Everything about Sherlock Holmes makes more sense when you think about Mycroft. Like the “brain-attic” metaphor. How did Sherlock get this idea that there’s some fast-approaching limit to the actual pieces of information he can fit in his head at once? Because he knows someone with far, far greater processing power).

Underneath this logical Bird secondary model, Sherlock Holmes has something that looks a lot more Snake He’s moody and mercurial. He improvises on the violin to help himself think. He loves acting. He loves disguises. He crushes on Irene Adler because their Snake secondaries have so much fun playing together. And when it’s important, Holmes goes full-on Snake. Need to get Watson away from Moriarty? Better forge a letter sending him on a fake errand.

And as far as primaries go...  he’s a Badger. Sherlock Holmes cares about people. Oh wow does he care about people. If he doesn’t protect his client, it’s not a win – even if he solved the case with some brilliant bit of detection. He despises blackmailers, because they destroy lives in a cold, impersonal way. (At least murderers care.) He doesn’t mean to upset people with his deductions, and apologizes when he gets too coldly Bird: “Pray accept my apologies. Viewing the matter as an abstract problem, I had a forgotten how personal and painful a thing it might be to you.” When Watson talks about the “depth of loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask,” Holmes is thirty seconds away from going vigilante killer because somebody hurt John Watson.

But the feeling isn’t just Watson-centric. Holmes doesn’t require Watson at his side the way a Snake would, because as long as he knows Watson is safe and happy, he is content. Holmes need-bases. It’s important that he works for people who need him. He generally dislikes working for the rich or upper-class (Soviet Russian Sherlock Holmes was totally a thing, they didn’t have to change much). He also has a *real* problem with overworking himself, which is very much a Badger primary and not Snake primary thing to do

He even community-builds. His Baker Street Irregulars, his connections over at Scotland yard, his tribe of interesting contacts and informants. Holmes values community. To him, community = safe. He loves London, but isolated rural areas makes him nervous:

“[in London] there is no lane so vile that the scream of a tortured child, or the thud of a drunkard’s blow, does not beget sympathy and indignation among the neighbors, and then the whole machinery of justice is ever so close that a word of complaint can set it going... But look at these lonely houses, each in its own fields… think of the deeds of hellish cruelty, the hidden wickedness which may go on, year in, year out, in such places, and none the wiser.”

And don’t get me wrong. Holmes loves his double Bird armor. It makes him feel powerful, and hides the fact that he cares so damn much. He likes to pretend he doesn’t: to care is to be weak, ineffective, and untrustworthy. (Mycroft is probably to blame for this bit of thinking too.) But Sherlock Holmes is still able to take off his Bird. He takes it off around Watson. 

Dr. John Watson is a bright charging Lion secondary who is completely incapable of telling a lie. He’s ex-military. He’s Holmes’ muscle/backup. He’s got a gambling problem. And the thing about Holmes and Watson’s dynamic is that while Holmes calls the shots about 90% percent of the time, when it’s important – Watson goes full unstoppable-force Lion. And Holmes just buckles.

“Well, I don’t like it ; but I suppose it must be,” said I. “When do we start?” “You are not coming.” “Then you are not going,” said I. “I give you my word of honor – and I never broke it in my life – that I will take a cab straight to the police station and give you away unless you let me share this adventure with you” “You can’t help me.” “How do you know that? You can’t tell what may happen. Anyway, my resolution is taken.” Holmes had looked annoyed, but his brow cleared, and he clapped me on the shoulder. “Well, well, my dear fellow, be it so.”

Watson’s absolutely a Lion Primary too. First going into medicine, then joining the army even when that’s not the best career move? At the beginning of A Study in Scarlet, Watson is in terrible shape. Can’t sleep. Can’t stand loud noises. He’s “spending such money as I had considerably more freely than I ought.” But it’s not so much the PTSD as it is the the lack of purpose that’s getting to him. He talks a lot about his “meaningless existence” and how how “objectiveless was my life.” That’s a hurting, burned Lion, without a Cause.

And then Sherlock Holmes stumbles in. Overnight Watson’s life has meaning. He is going to help Holmes bring criminals to justice. He is going to make sure Holmes gets the recognition he deserves. And he’s going to get him clean. (ACD gets massive kudos for being against recreational cocaine and morphine use). The things Watson loves about Holmes, things like his “high sense of professional honor” – those are things that get under the skin of a Lion Primary. This is a guy with pictures of abolitionist preachers framed on his wall. John Watson’s not subtle. 

“You don’t mind breaking the law?” [said Holmes] “Not in the least.” “Nor running a chance of arrest?” “Not in a good cause.” “Oh, the cause is excellent!” “Then I am your man.”

And of course, Holmes got lucky in Watson too. Holmes is a Loyalist primary who distrusts other Loyalist primaries – you can’t really blame him, he comes across so many repulsive ones in his day job. (Interestingly, the handful of times Holmes absolutely misreads a motive – “Yellow Face,” “Missing Three-Quarter,” “Scandal in Bohemia” – it’s because he’s going up against a Loyalist primary who is using their powers for good.) 

But Watson is a trustworthy, dependable, predicable, honorable, Idealist who can  look like a Loyalist because his Cause is so focused on one person. So Holmes can be secure in his doctor’s devotion while also getting to lean on the instincts of someone just unflinchingly moral.

tl;dr

Mycroft Holmes – Lion Bird. An extremely big picture Lion whose Cause involves keeping England together. He’s the light-side counterpart of Professor Moriarty.

Sherlock Holmes – Badger Snake. Builds a loud Double Bird model, partly for pleasure, partly have a relationship with his brother, and partly because dealing with so many low-life Loyalist primaries makes him distrust those instincts in himself.

Dr. John Watson - Double Lion. When we meet him he’s pretty burned, due to his twin Causes of Queen and Country not really working out. Luckily, he meets Sherlock Holmes, and finds a new Cause in him.

#sorting hat chats #sortinghatchats #hogwarts sorting #sherlock holmes acd #acd sherlock holmes #acd john watson #john watson #acd mycroft holmes #mycroft holmes #sir arthur conan doyle #Gryffindor primary #ravenclaw secondary #gryffindor/ravenclaw #hufflepuff primary #slytherin secondary #hufflepuff/slytherin #gryffindor/gryffindor #gryffindor secondary #ravenclaw model #irene adler #james moriarty #lion bird #badger snake #double lion

[topherfoxtrot]

Resilience

Here's the third part of my thunderbolts au. Emil Blonsky scaped his long imprisonment but he didn't went after the Hulk. Where did he go? The answer is bellow the cut. There's an original character here too. I'm not kin of OCs but I didn't find any character who would fit the role I wanted. Said oc will only be a part of this episode so consider it a special guest appearance. I've realized I've been writing more and more with each installment. Sorry about that, I'm getting more comfortable with the whole precess and I like to challenge myself. Continuing the trend, this chapter has a widely different vibe from the previous ones. As usual if you enjoyed please like, share or comment something.

Episode one

Episode two

Emil woke up from a nightmare. It was a fight. From as long as he could remember all Emil did was fight. Now even when he's not awake he's still fighting. He sat on the bed breathing heavily. Wait, where am I? He thought.

"You must be confused." A female voice was heard nearby.

Emil looked around looking for it. The cabin was small. The bedroom, the living room and the kitchen were all occupying the same space. There were two doors, one of them was probably for the bathroom. The woman was sitting at the kitchen table. She dressed a knitted sweater and rabbit slippers.

"My name is Charlie Reznik." She pointed at the soup, "Are you hungry?"

"Where am I?"

"Alaska. Three hours driving from Barrow."

Emil sat on the bed. He was naked. He covered himself with the blankets not for modesty but because they were warm.

"You weren't using any clothes when I found you and you don't seem like the kind of person who would wear my clothes. I hope the blankets kept you warm."

"Found me?"

"Yeah. You were screaming a lot. And throwing trees around." Charlie chuckled, "Eventually you got tired and just fell asleep right where you were. I was thinking about calling the police or something but when you started to shrink I decided to bring you here."

Suddenly Emil looked at himself realizing he did indeed shrink. He didn't look like that anymore. Still, the bones in his hands and abdomen were more prominent than they should be. He took his hands to his back to feel his spine was also prominent. That made him think of the super soldier serum, of the Hulk and of the prison he just scaped.

"I need to contact someone." Emil got up only to fall on the ground.

"Are you okay?" Charlie approached him with caution.

"I think I'll have the soap first actually." Emil muttered realizing how weak his body was.

***

The soup made with vegetables reminded Emil of his childhood in Russia. He had almost no recollection of those few years before he moved to England. He mostly remembered the cold and his mother's soap.

"I need to ask you but.. it's gonna sound weird." Emil was at the table tangled with the blankets, "What year is this?"

Charlie looked him in the eyes to decide if he was being serious or not. Emil didn't flinch so nor did Charlie, "It's 2023."

Emil pressed his lips and started to breath heavily. He was sleeping this whole time. They kept him asleep without ever giving him a chance to explain himself. No consent and no agency.

"No one has heard anything about you since 2008 Mr Blonsky and now you show up in the middle of the forest not knowing the year?" Charlie seemed genuinely curious.

"You know me?"

"I didn't recognize you at first. There isn't much footage from big you. But the sketch from witnesses matched pretty well. They call you the Abomination."

"Abomination?" Emil suddenly smashed the wooden table with enough strength to crack it. Charlie quickly moved her left hard to somewhere under the table. They locked eyes. For the first time Charlie didn't seem warm and inviting but rather fierce and absolutely ready to react. Emil closed his eyes a bit before recomposing himself.

"I'm sorry."

"I also think the name is impolite." Charlie brought her hand back, "But no one knew anything about you except you were military assigned to find Bruce Banner. I had to make some phone calls and turns out my guess was right! You are indeed in the accords database. Quite high level threat.

"What accords?"

"Alright." Charlie put her hair behind her ears, "I need you to be honest with me Mr Blonsky. What's the last thing you remember?"

So he said. He fought the hulk on Harlem, fell unconscious and woke up in Alaska. Charlie brought a computer from a big bag under the bed and put it on the table in a way that both of them could see it.

"The world changed a lot since 2008 Mr Blonsky. Put on your seatbelts."

Charlie then gave him a contemporary history class the best way she could while showing videos and pictures whenever she felt necessary. She talked about the avengers assembling in 2012 to stop an alien invasion caused by a norse god. She talked about the genocidal robot destroying a whole country in 2015. She talked about Wanda Maximoff killing those people back in 2016. She talked about the Sokovia accords and how that made the avengers disassemble. She talked about Wakanda opening up to the rest of the world. She talked about the avengers coming together again to fight yet another alien invasion. She talked about the snap and the chaotic years that followed. She talked about the blip and the even more chaotic year that followed it. Emil listened to everything in silence. It was a lot but he was smart.

"They put me to sleep for fifteen years." He whispered.

"I'm so sorry about that. It's unfair."

Emil had finished his soup but he stayed exactly where he was. Thinking about everything.

"I became strong. I became as strong as I could and still... they defeated me with bed time."

"You're being unfair."

"How come?"

"I don't think strength is really what you think it is."

"How would you know?"

Emil looked at Charlie's small stature with unconscious disdain. She picked on that and wore her fierce eyes again.

"With all due the respect Mr Blonsky..." It was possibly to hear the rage under her words, "You have no idea how strong I am. Thanos snapped my whole family! I wasn't even at home when it happened. Do you have any idea how much strength I needed to gather to simply get up every morning? I may not have big muscles like you -in fact no one does Mr Blonsky - but guess what? You could not have went through what I did. I'm sure of it!"

Emil got up aggressively and so did Charlie.

"You're really pulling the trauma card?"

"Wanna compete?"

"I think I do." He showed his teeth.

Charlie walked across the cabin stepping heavely. She sat on the bed. "Enlighten me."

The challenge got Emil off guard. He hesitated.

"I don't need to tell you anything."

"Of course you don't. If you tell me how traumatized you are, I'll tell you how traumatized I am. Then you will have to admit that none of it gives you permission to do the shitty things you did!"

The cabin merged in silence. Outside there was nothing but the cold wind running through the trees.

"I know your type." Charlie continued, a little calmer now, "Though childhood huh? No perspective of a future so you joined the military. Felt good to explode some heads didn't it? It felt powerful."

Emil remained in silence. He still looked mad, but remained in silence. Charlie went to the kitchen and grabbed a photograph from one of the drawers. She gave it to Emil.

"You're military." Emil studied the photo of Charlie and other soldiers smiling inside a tent.

"Used to be. Came back in 2019. The welcoming party wasn't exactly a party as you can imagine. My house was empty. As I said both my parents and my little brother got snapped. That's when I found this cabin."

"It's not yours?"

"Nah. I don't know who it belongs to actually. It was a cold night and I was just driving aimless. I don't know why exactly. Everything just seemed so meaningless back then. I felt weak."

Emil put the photograph on the table and they both locked eyes again. Not with anger this time though.

"It's cold but it's isolated enough. I could cry and scream as much as I wanted without anyone knowing. And did I need to scream! Scream at Thanos, scream at my parents, scream at myself. A part of me wish it could've been me, y'know? Trust me I would give my life for theirs in the blink of an eye! Yet, here I was."

Charlie sat at the table again. The temperature of the cabin went from 20°C to 40°C and then to 20°C again. Emil felt sorry about the table but most importantly he felt sorry for making Charlie mad.

"There's no much to say." He started, "Though childhood. No perspective. Joined the military. After everything I've seen, being strong is honestly the only option. It's survival."

"I get it. I really do. But strength is not on your muscles."

"Don't come with this heartfelt bullshit."

"It's not." Charlie chuckled, "Trust me I won't fall for that bullshit either. It's something else."

She got up and grabbed an old book from the shelf near the bed.

"All those things were already here when I got here for the first time. There was water, gas, energy, the bed, the blankets. It's like whoever lived here had just left. I've known this place for couple more than three years now. No one is ever here except me, yet the feeling never goes away."

The old book was covered with leather.

"Self help book?" Emil asked.

"In a way." Charlie tilted her head, "This book is about the universe. But not like a scientific encyclopedia. This book is about the whole universe, about the energy that comes from different parts of the multiverse and how to harvest and manipulate them. Essencially, magic!"

"Alright it's a self help book. Magic is not real."

"I was honestly hoping you would say that." Charlie smiled, "Check this out!"

Charlie put her hands in front of her and took a deep breath in order to focus. She moved her hands vertically and a orange string appeared from thin air. Charlie's hands drew a circle in the air and the string curved itself in a circumference. Charlie closed her hands as if grabbing something and with another gesture polygonal forms started to draw themselves in the magic circle. Charlie snapped her fingers with both hands and the whole thing started to spin like a magical ferris wheel.

"You discovered magic!" Emil whispered.

"Of course I didn't! People have been studying that for a long time. I just happened to find a weird book." The magical strings disappeared as Charlie stopped focusing so much on them, "You know when you are depressed so you set a simple goal just to give yourself a little achievement?"

"No, actually. But that's seems like solid advice."

"It is!" Charlie chuckled, "Anyways I read this whole book in like two days and I didn't understand shit. But I was super interested and started to dig the internet and beyond for anything related to all the weird concepts I found. I read the book more two of three times after that. Each time I learned something different and gained a new perspective over myself and the universe around me."

"So it is a self help book!" Emil laughed.

"As I said, it is but in a weird way. I mean look around. There's aliens and gods and the multiverse. When you think of all of it don't your problems seem way smaller?"

"I'm not sure."

"Here's how it's gonna be. I go to Barrow buy you some clothes and you think about everything I just said." She grabbed a jacket and wore boots, "But you have to pay me back alright? Otherwise I'm gonna hunt you and I'll find you. Remember: I know magic!"

"Okay, that's fair!"

Charlie grabbed a ring with slot for two fingers in a kitchen drawer. "That was one of the things I found here. Magic becomes weirdly intuitive once you learn some basics."

She made that focused face again and started to draw circles in the air with her right hand. The air in the middle of the cabin heated up and started to sparkle. An orange circle (much like the one she conjured with the hand gestures) appeared but in the middle of it was possible to see an alley.

"What is this?" Emil was shocked.

"Fast travel!" Charlie winked before passing through. The portal was gone as soon as she was gone and Emil found himself alone in the cabin.

***

There was a small mirror in the bathroom. Alone, he could check his own body for the first time. His face looked pretty much the same, he hadn't aged one day in the past fifteen years. Besides his hands and shoulders and spine, his elbows were also abnormally prominent. Was he the Abomination after all?

The power felt good, he remembered. Felt god-like. But the cost was too high. Emil became too dangerous and lost control over his own life for more than a decade. He wanted to blame Ross and Banner but would it be even fair? Emil was the one who accepted to take the serum in the first place. He actually pointed a gun at that scientist. He begged to become as strong as the Hulk is.

Emil left the house still covered in blankets. The cold snow made his feet burn but no enough to bother him. He was strong after all. Or maybe he enjoyed the pain in a sick way of reinforcing his own superiority belief. An orange portal opened nearby after a while.

"Aren't you feeling cold?" Charlie asked coming with a bag of clothes.

"A little."

"Come. See if any of those fit you. They're from the local thrift shop by the way."

"I've wore worse."

Charlie bought a simple jeans, two shirts, a flannel and boots. Really simple stuff just to protect Emil from the cold. It fit well.

"Thank you." He said.

"You're in debt, Mr Blonsky. Don't you forget that."

"You know magic." He chuckled, "I can't allow myself to have you as an enemy Ms Reznik."

They both laughed. Charlie sat at the table and started to type something on the computer.

"The feds are all over town." Charlie commented, "They're looking for you."

"Listen," he said, "I need to ask you a favor but first can I go for a walk?

***

Emil took a deep breath before jumping as high as he could. He could not see above the tall trees so he jumped again but grabbed one of the trees this time. Even with his bare hards, the wood bowed to his will. He kept climbing until he got to the highest part of the tree. From up there he could see the whole forest, including the trees he threw around the day before.

He jumped to the ground again. The snow splattered around him. His hands and knees started to bleed but he didn't care because he would break soon enough. He felt powerful and smiled without realizing it. Not a happy smile, bur rather a challenging one. Hey jumped a little before running in the direction of the destruction he caused. He started slow (more like jogging actually) but quickly escalated to marathon running and super human running. The cold wind cut his face like knifes but he didn't care. He just kept going faster.

When he finally reached the glade he jumped again. Even higher this time. When he landed his feet felt bigger. Breathing heavily he looked at his own hands and realized they were indeed getting bigger and muscled. Without wasting any breath he took off all his clothes and started running again. The cold started to bother him less and less as his body grew in size.

He started to scream so he could liberate his anger. He jumped high and landed with his fists causing the ground to crack bellow him. Emil grabbed a fallen tree and threw it to the air. He picked big boulders and threw them around at will. In the middle of the chaos he also started laughing. He was strong. He could destroy anything he wanted. He was as strong as he could be.

When Emil finally felt satisfied with his own display of power, he grabbed the trees and rearranged them back into the ground as best as he could. He picked the boulders and put them back where they were. So when the glade resembled the glade it once was, Emil sat on the ground next to his new clothes.

He started to think about everything Charlie said. Yes, he was big and could destroy everything is his way. But there were gods and aliens and robots and uncontable planets and entities across the universe. He was big and strong but he was also small and weak.

His strength though wasn't on his muscles but on his ability to survive. He survived his childhood, he survived the military and he survived the Hulk. Just like Charlie survived the snap and the aftermath. Like Charlie found new meaning in magic so could Emil find new paths to follow.

"I'm big and I'm small. I'm strong and I'm weak. I'm still here." Emil whispered to himself.

His body started to shrink calmly. Once he achieved regular size he wore his clothes and walked towards the cabin. Charlie smiled when he entered.

"Had fun?" She heard the screams obviously.

"Yeah actually. Thanks for everything."

"No problem. Remember, you're still in debt! So what favor do you need?"

"I need a portal but I also need an address. I believe you can find the person I'm looking for in the Sokovia accords database."

"Hm alright. What's the name?"

"Ava Starr."

#emil blonsky #thunderbolts #FoxtrotFanfic

[poorboypictures]

Major America: Ch. 1

Jordon Wilkinson was seven years old when he first learned of Captain America; he and his siblings were told by their grandfather of the time he fought beside Captain America and Bucky in World War II. All were enthralled, but none more than Jordon himself. Jordon began reading all he could about the Captain’s escapades before and during the war, learning his origin, his identity, and his disappearance; taking the hero to heart, Jordon stood up for those who couldn’t stand for themselves throughout his life, even joining the military after the Twin Towers fell, serving seven years before a hip injury took him out of action permanently. In 2012, Captain America resurfaced and Jordon was thrilled to have him as a moral standard in the country again, only to notice a change in the hero over the years.

***

2021, nine years after Captain America was freed from the ice; Major Jordon Wilkinson sits in a security office picking at his spaghetti and meatball lunch, staring intently in thought. Wally Gertz, his partner, is fidgeting with a Rubik’s Cube keychain with his feet up.

“Something wrong?” Wally asks.

Jordon blinks a few times and looks over at Wally. “Hmm?”

“Lunch ended ten minutes ago and usually you finish in five minutes just to keep watch on the feed.”

“No, I just have a lot on my mind.” Jordon takes a bite of his lunch as Wally puts away the cube.

“We’ve been working the same shift together for three years, Jordon; I would think I can read you well enough.”

Jordon sighs and pushes his lunch away before leaning back in his chair.

“You know the phrase ‘never meet your heroes’?”

Wally takes his feet off of the desk and leans forward. “You met him? You met Captain America?” He asks, eyes wide.

Jordon slowly nods. “The saying is true. At least, it wouldn’t have been if I met him when he came out of the ice. He’s changed and I think society was what did it; a man out of time, trying to keep up with the seventy years he missed, and I believe it corrupted him.”

“Sounds plausible; society is a bit of a mess these days.” He straightens his hat. “It’s a shame someone can’t just grab the shield and say ‘I’m the Captain now’.”

Jordon stops completely, an idea forming.

***

Later that day; Jordon is in his apartment on his computer, looking for a shield.

“The shield is the easy part.” He says to himself. “It’s the costume that will be hard to get; how am I going to get an extra thousand dollars for an accurate costume?”

He pauses as something dawns on him.

“Hang on…”

He gets up, grabs his phone, and calls someone as he sits back down at the computer.

“Hello?” Georgie Berke answers the phone.

“Georgie, it’s me, Jordon.”

“Hey, Jordy! How are you doing? How was your nephew’s birthday?”

“Loud, and disruptive, but I love him, so I didn’t leave. So, hey, I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“How does one get an accurate costume?”

“Jordy.” She says teasingly. “Are you getting into cosplay?”

“Georgie, I’m 43 years old, I don’t do cosplay.”

“I’m 37, Jordy, what’s your point?”

“My point is-.” He says with a tad of frustration. “I want an accurate costume and I would like to know how to get one for a good price.”

“Weeelll… if you had an extra small fortune to spend on one you could do that.”

“Nope.” Jordon shakes his head. “I have bills to pay.”

“Then you could make a costume with your own twist, I’ve seen plenty of cosplayers use this method to save a buck without having to get a cheaply made costume.”

“That sounds doable. Thanks.”

“May I ask what exactly this is for?”

“… No. Bye.”

He hangs up, opens a new tab, and begins searching for his costume-with-a-twist.

***

One week later; Jordon is in his apartment listening to a police scanner app on his phone as he peals masking tape off of the recently painted heater shield; just as Jordon finishes taking the tape off, dispatch warns of an attempted robbery at a nearby bank.

“That’s a mile from here…” Jordon says to himself as he looks at his partly assembled costume on the couch; he looks at the shield and back to the couch, wondering whether he should go without a complete costume.

Jordon sighs and quickly puts the costume on, wearing the shield on his back like a backpack; he jumps down the fire escape and onto a red 2013 Harley-Davidson Breakout, tearing out of the alley way and down the street.

Literally a minute later, Jordon pulls into the alley next to the bank and walks into the rear entrance to hear two men trying to break into the safety deposit boxes; he sneaks up behind them, pulls out his gun, pistol-whips one crook, knocking him out, and knocks out the other with his shield, only for the resounding “clang!” to catch the attention of the crook standing guard at the other side of the room.

The crook shouts at Jordon. “HEY!”

Before Jordon can turn around and shield himself, the gunman shoots him in the thigh and side; Jordon holds in a scream of pain as the gunman empties his magazine into the shield; as the gunman tries to quickly reload, Jordon sprints forward at full speed and punches the man out cold only to find himself in front of the remaining three robbers ready to fire on him.

“Oh, crap…”

Jordon ducks behind the shield as the three men fire at him, emptying their magazines; they stop to taunt him as they reload.

“You supposed to be Captain America or something, man?” One asks.

“He’s got a round shield, you imbecile!” Another taunts.

Jordon takes a deep breath, blocking out the pain from being shot, and pulls out his gun.

“Come on, just like in the military.” He whispers to himself

He stands up and hits the first two gunmen in the shoulder without effort, but he and the third gunman fire at the same time; Jordon hits the gunman in the shoulder same as before, and the gunman hits Jordon in the bicep. The gunman goes down and Jordon holsters his gun, his breathing shaky; he looks around at the employees and citizens getting up from the floor.

“Is everyone okay?” He asks, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

A man in a suit nods. “Yes, we’re fine, but you need a doctor.”

“I’ve suffered worse, trust me.” Jordon says as he turns to go back the way he came in.

“Wait!” A woman calls. “What do we call you?”

Jordon stops and looks back. “I’m… Major America.”

He heads to the back of the bank to leave.

***

Soon, in Georgie’s apartment, Georgie is watching the news as she sips from a cup of tea; the news anchor is reporting on the bank robbery when the footage of the fight is played on screen. Georgia spews her tea out, coughing.

“JORDY!?”

***

In Jordon’s apartment, Jordon is sitting at his dining table stitching up the wound on his side when his front door bursts open, causing Jordon to jump as Georgie bolts in.

“Why didn’t you tell me!?”

Jordon grabs some gauze and puts pressure on his wound that has begun bleeding again.

“I really need to lock my door more often.” Jordon says, wincing. “Can you pass me that whiskey?”

He points to the bottle on the kitchen counter and Georgie hands it to him, watching as he takes a swig.

“Why are you drinking while stitching yourself up?” Georgie asks. “How do you even know how to stitch a wound?”

Jordon continues stitching.

“Back in Iraq our field medic got hit by a frag grenade along with a couple others; the anesthetic was apparently hit and drained out so we raided the basement of a bombed bar and the medic taught me how to stitch a wound because I had the steadiest hands.” He takes another swig of whiskey. “Sometimes the old ways are the best.”

He finishes stitching the wound and places some gauze over it.

“Can you hold that while I wrap the wound?”

“Fine.” Georgie huffs as she holds the gauze in place. “Just tell me what you were thinking when you decided to do this?”

“What are you? My mother?” Jordon quips as he finishes wrapping his wound. “I’m a grown man who can make his own decisions.”

“Not when they get you nearly killed!”

Jordon stands up and puts his shirt back on.

“I fought for seven years in a country that hated my guts, I can stand to fight a few more in another country that hates my guts. Doesn’t matter what you say, Georgie, I won’t stop what I’ve started.”

Georgie sighs and crosses her arms in a huff.

“No, you’re right; you’re an adult.”

She notices his bloodied costume and picks up the sweater.

“Also, what kind of costume is this? A baby could do better!”

“The gloves and jacket hadn’t arrived yet, they’ll be here in a couple of days.”

Georgie looks at him, cocking an eyebrow.

“Are you… Are you cropping a jacket?”

“… Noooo…” Jordon answers reluctantly.

“What color is the jacket?”

“Blue…”

“The only way you’re going to get the look you want is by cropping the jacket.”

“Fine! Yes, I’m going to crop the jacket!” Jordon winces and holds his side after the defeated outburst bothers his wound. “Okay, back to small talk.” He says, pained.

Georgie picks up Jordon’s helmet and mask and gives it a once over.

“Where did you get this?” She asks.

“The helmet was my grandfathers; quick coat of paint and it was perfect.” He takes a swig of whiskey once again. “The mask I found at an antique shop; the tag said it was an aviator’s mask used in the war, but I’ve never seen one like this before.”

“And the shield?”

“Got that online, bought three and tested two of them on my uncles range to see what guns they could handle; surprisingly a lot. I’m going to have to buy more after a while though, I’ll need to make a budget for that.”

“You really are serious about this, aren’t you?” Georgie asks, pulling a chair up next to Jordon.

“I am.”

“Why, though? What on God’s green Earth would get you to do this?” She asks, genuinely concerned.

“America needs a hero who will truly fight for them, a hero who understands what it means to be the little guy, America needs an underdog; do you think Ironman understands what it’s like to live paycheck-to-paycheck, or if Thor understands what it’s like to get mugged and you can’t pay your rent by the end of the week?”

“Probably not…” Georgie says.

“We rely too much on them; yeah, they’ve saved the world, but we don’t need Black Widow to find a stolen car. I’m going to try to be like that spider guy in Manhattan; he sticks to one area and does it well.”

Georgie stands up and stretches.

“If you’re going to do something stupid, I may as well help: if you find any information you can’t track just call me and I’ll see if I can find anything for you; I’m pretty good with computers, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll see you Monday.”

Georgie smiles and leaves the apartment.

***

A couple days later; a young man is being mugged by two men in an alley way, getting beaten; someone clears their throat and the muggers stop and turn to look down the alley to see Major America wearing a complete costume.

“Alright, boys, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.” He says.

The muggers look at each other and pull their knives.

“Hard way it is.”

He raises his shield and jumps into the fray.

End.

The Incomplete costume.

The Complete Costume.

Don't judge the art too harshly, I know what I have to work on I don't need people pointing it out.

Also, I suck at writing origins, I'm better at writing stories where the reader is assumed to know exactly who the characters are.

#captain america #america #major america #star spangled man #patriotism #patriot #original character #oc art #oc artwork #oc insert #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfics #fanfic writing #oc insert au #au #alternate universe #art #artwork

[ask-de-writer]

CAPTURED BY THE CLANS : Part 10 of 10 : Science Fiction

Return to Science Fiction

Return to the Master Story Index

CAPTURED BY THE CLANS

Part 10 of 10

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

18231 words

Copyright 2020 by Glen Ten-Eyck

All rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  Part 1 is HERE.

///////////////////////

All of the Feront creatures, T’cass and Lezon piled into the Feront shuttle and quickly became a vanishing speck in the sky.

The salesperson shook her head and asked, “What makes that pair so special?  I’ve never heard of anything like that.  What do they play at?”

Wryly, K’ress said, “Computerized space battle simulations, virtual reality hand to hand combat, even board games.  As far as I know, they are the only ones that the Feront plays with.”

Shaking her head, the salesperson commented, “It’s hard to imagine that thing playing.  There’s two city ships of it up there with enough fire power to knock out a battle fleet and it’s still one thing.  I can’t imagine it.”

Six hours later, tanks filled with water for reaction mass, the D’ancer was ready to launch. Beside the crew ladder M’rel calmly and K’ress impatiently waited for the Feront shuttle to land.  It was so silent in its approach that it took both of them by surprise.  

They found the explanation for that when the canopy lifted and they saw Lezon dismounting from the pilot’s saddle.  K’ress overheard her explaining, “. . . and that’s how you can avoid detection without any fancy equipment.”

The Feront replied, “Was that how you separated me in the Contact/Conflict?”

“In part.  I used some other tricks, too.”

As she and T’cass joined their friends at the foot of the ladder, K’ress couldn’t resist asking, “Does the Port know that the shuttle has come down?”

With a feral grin, Lezon replied, “They do now!  T’cass notified the Control Bunker once we were on the ground.  Let’s get going before they figure out that it was us!”

In the control room, M’rel asked, “Do you know how to lift this leaky tachyon bucket, T’cass?”

Finished strapping into her crash couch, T’cass replied cheerfully, “Nope.”  She gestured at Lezon, who was already setting up the launch sequence in the computer, “She does, though.  If anyone can get this thing up, its Lezon.”

T’cass settled deep into her crash couch and serenely shut her eyes, gone into the calm retreat of a Warrior’s Way Meditation.

K’ress noted wryly, “That’s one hell of vote of confidence.  Is there anything that I can do, Lezon?”

“Yes,” was the prompt reply. “Take the couch just to the left of mine.  It’s engineering.  I want you to monitor the pump pressure.  We need at least four hundred kg/cm^2 all the time.  We can run as high as six.  If any pump falls below four, make it up with raised pressure in the ones that are left.  Also, keep an eye on the power capsule.  We need a steady twelve meg output.”

Lezon turned to M’rel and said respectfully, “Ma’am, you know how the Comm panel works.  Strap in there and raise the Control Bunker.  Let them know that we are ready to lift, per certificate T.C. 404-GT76.  Warn them to clear the area because we are using a reaction drive.  We need a totally clear traffic lane because, after launch commit, we cannot maneuver away from our ballistic course.”

M’rel sat and secured her safety harness.  She reached out and activated the Comm.  Smiling her best professional smile, M’rel stated, “Hello, Control.  This is D’ancer, T.C.404-GT76.  We request clearance to lift.  We are on reaction drives with inertial assist.  We need a totally clear traffic lane to orbit, as we cannot deviate once we commit.  Be sure the pad zone is clear.  This thing has a hot exhaust.”

A grizzled veteran with scars visible through her mane, replied, “This is Control.  The notion that you are actually taking up that hundred and fifty year old antique has drawn news flitters and a camera crew on the ground. They have set up at the north side of your pad.  Watch out for the flitters.  You can lift at will.”

M’rel replied tartly, “Oh good!  I’ll get a lot of work out of this lift off!  I’m a reconstructive medical specialist, you know.  I’ve had to be doing Barbeque Cats from the War.  Those news tapers will make well paid private work at last!

“Um, the rest of the crew just said that we’ll give them twenty minutes to notify their next of kin or clear out to at least 800 meters.  Let the news flitters know that the wake and exhaust of something this big, driven by reaction engines, will splash them all over the field if they get closer than 900 meters.”

Control actually grinned and said, “I like your style.  I made them listen to the clearance chatter.  You just warned them.  They have twenty minutes to get clear.  I wish that you could see it.  They’re scrambling like ants when you turn over a rock.  One of the flitters is actually moving in for a close up.  I just sent them a canned get-clear warning.”

K’ress was running engineering checks on the ancient systems, familiarizing herself with them. Lezon joined T’cass in meditation.  At four minutes to lift, both Lezon and T’cass came fully alert.  

Lezon smiled approvingly at K’ress and said, “I see that you spent your time well.”

“Thank-you,” K’ress replied.  “The drive is preheated and the pumps are up to pressure. That old capsule is working better than I hoped.”

M’rel called Control again. “Time is up.  Lift Commit is initiated.  Engine core is coming up to operational heat.  Reaction mass pumps are on line.  Call you from orbit!”

Enormous box shaped air scoops opened out from the sides of the tall, ancient, winged projectile-like vehicle.  Steam began to blast out around the base of the ship.  A moment later, the steam turned to a screaming, almost totally transparent blue-white glare of flame.  The D’ancer, nearly as tall, if far less massive than a military Siege Ship, lifted smoothly, appearing to barely move at first.  Suddenly gathering way she leaped straight up into the sky.  The concrete pad where she had been sitting was cooling and cracking off glazed bits of fused, glassy blast scar.

One reckless news flitter did get caught in the supersonic wake of the monster that was screaming past on its way out of the atmosphere.  Luckily the flitter’s pilot had fast reflexes and they recovered control a good seven meters above the ground.

The D’ancer rolled out at 15.5 kilometers and began to accelerate even more.  She was eating all the air that the scoops could grab for free reaction mass along with the water that she carried.  Besides speed, the D’ancer was gaining altitude, running ahead of a big plume of vapor.  She continued to climb, coasting on inertia now.  The antique engines had shut down exactly on their mark.  On a shallow angle, the D’ancer rose up to a low orbit.

Lezon checked her course and made a low acceleration correction to regularize the orbit.  There was no onboard artificial gravity.  It was hard to realize that something so basic hadn’t even been invented when the D’ancer was built. Everyone was experiencing the sensation of free-fall.  Lezon and T’cass were moving about the D’ancer with practiced ease.  Small combat ships didn’t waste energy on artificial gravity either, so both were familiar with the feeling.  K’ress, as an engineer, was at least used to it.  M’rel was quietly curled around her tummy, being miserable.

While Lezon and T’cass were busy, K’ress noticed a ship approaching, matching their orbit.  She hit the intercom and her voice rang out through the ship, “We have company!  Intercept in fifteen minutes.”

The Feront activated the visual communicator.  Several reptilian heads scanned about, focusing on Lezon and T’cass.  “My friends!  It is good to see your entities again so soon.

“You fulfilled your promise to come and bring your ship to me for salvage and refit.  I will carry out my promises as well.  While I work on your vessel, we can play! This time, I believe that my strategy will prevail!”

M’rel opened one eye and stared balefully at the others, cheerfully chattering away and said, “I have two questions.  One, does this feeling of nausea ever actually get better?  Two, why is the Feront always saying that it thinks that it will beat you?”

T’cass responded, “You will get used to the free-fall soon enough.  Just orient by eye and forget about your ears.  

“As for the Feront, it’s simply being utterly honest.  It does think that it may beat us and says so.  It’s right about twenty percent of the time, too.  It enjoys playing and doesn’t get the chance very often.”

Just then, the Feront chimed in on the communicator, “I will be using a gravitational grapple to remove your vessel to the working and salvage area.  Please secure. Down will face my vessel.”

Lezon looked sympathetically at M’rel and requested, “This vessel was designed for gravity along the line of thrust.  Could you orient your tow that way for the comfort of one of ours?”

The polyphonic voice replied, “Certainly, friend Lezon.  Field is now building.”  Gently up and down returned.  

K’ress brought M’rel an antinausiant.  M’rel sipped gently and remarked, “Someday, somebody will invent something to stop stomach heaves that doesn’t need to go into a stomach that already can’t hold it.”  She smiled wanly.  “I like the Feront already, just for being considerate.”

“It can be, when it wants to be,” acknowledged Lezon, “but if you are going to deal with the Feront you need to understand that it will often not think of you at all.  Remember, it has been a single thing and living in space craft for at least four million standard years.  In all of that time, it had never encountered another intelligent entity that it recognized as such.  As a result, it has only a little experience in dealing with others that are not itself.”

M’rel nodded, interested and focusing on something besides her now subsiding nausea.  “I see. How can it stay one thing over interstellar distances?  Does its mind have a faster than light way to communicate?”

Lezon answered, “That is best demonstrated.  Pour some water into a drinking bowl and get a second bowl.”

Mystified, M’rel did as asked. Lezon took the bowl with the water and said, “This is the Feront.” She poured some into the empty bowl.  “This is still the Feront, only now it is in two parts.”  Pouring the two back together, she added, “Now, the Feront is one thing again.  So far as it knows, it was never two.  Both the separation and the merging are not conscious actions and are totally without trauma.  There is a particular distance at which it simply separates or merges, that’s all.”

M’rel shivered all over at the thought.  “The universe is strange,” she quoted from a Clan Precept.

Lezon surprised her by finishing, “And in that very strangeness lies all of the riches of life.”

“You know the Precepts?” M’rel questioned.

T’cass cut in, “Of course. How can you understand a conflict if you do not grasp all sides of it?”

K’ress put in, “You mean something like knowing your enemy?”

Easily, Lezon replied, “Yes, but that is very incomplete.  All of life is conflict, even friendship is the management of conflict.  Thus, you must understand all that you can of everything about you if you are to manage the conflict to the best good of all.”

“What about your enemies?  Do you consider them?” K’ress asked sarcastically.  She was not prepared for the answer that she got.

“Of course.  Their lives are as valuable as your own.  Otherwise, the conflict has no value or meaning at all.  As soon as the armed portion of the conflict is over for them, they must be protected.”

K’ress snorted at that and retorted, “What about the crew of the signal laser at K’stall? That was knocked out and helpless.  A cruiser wiped them out later.”

“Right,” agreed T’cass. “And after the battle, War Leader Lezon sent the captain home to M’cratt in disgrace.  The Empress Triad ordered the captain executed for violation of the Warrior’s Way.  We heard about it on the Strategy Board.”

About then, the Feront came onto the communicator.  “I have brought you to the place of work.  It will be best if you come into my vessel while I work on yours.  Your input will be desirable from time to time in regard to the life support system and its amenities.”

During the refit, M’rel and K’ress shivered and stayed close in their quarters.  The Feront liked cold places, arctic regions and ice worlds.  Its idea of warm was still more than a bit cool.

T’cass and Lezon didn’t seem to notice.  They went scampering off with Feront in tow.  There were games to play and mock combats to enjoy.  They showed up irregularly for meals and to cuddle up in a warm fur pile to sleep.

The Feront always seemed to have time for its guests.  It courteously answered any questions except for ones relating to how the big city ship worked.  The Feront would only say that the fusion system that drove it operated on a different principle than the ones used by either the Clans or M’cratti.

K’ress and M’rel spent a good deal of time going over the details of their ship’s refit.  Doing so revealed that both T’cass and Lezon had ideas about creature comfort that were at odds with their Clan raised partners.  The Warriors cheerfully yielded on most points but both insisted on a liquid exercise tank and a gymnasium.

The antique ship’s monster fuel tank became three cavernous holds and a serious group of maintenance shops for metal, electronic and tachyonic equipment.  The power capsule had been replaced.  K’ress’s practiced eye noted that it was one from a capital ship and far bigger than would normally be needed for a freight hauler.  The drive was one from a fast messenger ship that had been pretty badly shot up.  Her eyes widened when she saw the specs.

This vessel was no longer an antique.  The fore and aft gun emplacements were not large by most standards.  There were seven five kiloton per second weapons in each battery, the most firepower allowed to their newly assigned Class B freight designation.

They needed only to stock the galley and seek a cargo to begin their new life as the Clan D’ancer. Lezon reflected that since the war was over, so was her service to the Empress Triad.  She hadn’t surrendered, she was Submitted to T’cass.  The others came with her.  The Clan D’ancer was as good a place to be as she could find.  This new way of life would be an interesting Conflict to manage.

–THE END–    

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#CAPTURED BY THE CLANS #Part 10 of 10 #Science Fiction #Written by De Writer

[hopeatermeetsgodzilla]

Chapter 19

“Sir?” Jonah raised his head from his computer, frowning as he saw Emily. The young woman seemed worried about something. “May I come in?”

He softened his face a bit. “Of course.” Emily nodded, coming into the room and sitting down in front of her boss’ desk. Jonah took his hands away from the keyboard, folding them over his desk. “What’s wrong? Are you afraid Monarch knows of our headquarters’ position?”

“No! No, it’s not about that.” Following Florès’ exposing of their takeover of Outpost 32 to the military, the Titan Liberation Front had had to leave in an emergency, coming back to their base in Boston. It had quickly been followed by Emily doing a quadruple check of the security system.

The only trace from Florès she had found was an encoded message on a Word document that hadn’t been there before.

Remember, Jonah doesn’t trust you...

“Well then, what is it about?”

“... are you sure waking all the Titans is the way to go?” Emily asked, frowning. When Jonah narrowed his eyes, she quickly tried to correct herself. “I-I mean I know they’re the only ones who can save the planet at this point and that not waking them would just delay the inevitable, b- but what if when we free all of them, we end up regressing back to the Stone Age-”

“Emmy.” Jonah suddenly cut her off. She flinched away. Emmy was a nickname her parents had given her before they had died. Jonah was pretty much the only person close to her who was still allowed to use it. “Why are you so worried? Humanity going back to a time were they held no impact on the planet is an ideal scenario.”

“I- it’s not just about that... it’s Ghidorah.” She started. “It’s- they’re not from Earth, they’re not going to restore the planet- they’re destroying it- it’s not going to be the co-existence you told me about, they’re a walking extinction event-”

“Kane.” Jonah started, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Are you telling me you’re having second doubts now? You were fine with millions of people dying, but you’re going to draw the line at billions of people dying?”

“That’s not what I said-”

“If we’re a sickness,” Jonah started, circling his desk, “and the Earth Titans are a fever, then Ghidorah is both the cure and the vaccine. It doesn’t matter what our intentions are: what’s important is that humans won’t be able to rise up again once they’re done, and the planet will only benefit from it. Do you understand?”

“... yes, sir.”

 “And if we do live to see this mass extinction event through...” He placed his hand on Emily’s shoulder, making her flinch. “I trust you and your talents will help us out, yes?” Jonah smiled down reassuringly at her, patting her shoulder.

... And you shouldn’t trust him.

Emily hesitantly nodded, remembering the message Florès had left her. “O- of course, sir.”

-

“You want me to teach you how to absorb energy?” Rodan nodded, San turning away from the coast to look at him instead, still not getting up. The sun was starting to set, and Ghidorah had made it very clear they were fascinated with the sky and the objects in it. There was also the fact they drew most of their energy from it. “Any reason why this sprang up?”

“I’m having difficulties finding food, and your brother mentioned you could teach me how to do it.” Rodan explained, sitting down and craning his neck up to look at San. “Something about being more spiritual.”

San nodded. “That is true. Ichi’s too clinical, and Ni convinced himself that if he allows himself to be vulnerable, he’ll die.” There was a pause. “Either way, neither can meditate if I’m not here. Can you absorb energy on your own, like, consciously?”

“Not consciously, I just start doing it automatically the moment I submerge myself in lava.”

“Partially, or fully?”

“Both. The more I’m submerged, the easier it is.”

San nodded. “Alright, that means you’re the unconscious type. We’re gonna try to meditate, okay? Okay. I want you to close your eyes, and breath in a pattern: 4 seconds in, 4 seconds hold, 8 seconds out. You think you can do it?”

“Yeah, I’m not an idiot.” Rodan hissed out, San giggling to himself before closing his eyes. Rodan watched the taller one do it a few times, before attempting himself. He started taking a deep breath. 1, 2- Heat, too much heat, feathers burned off, scalp burning, sides of mouth splitting, veins bursting, eyes burning, heart burning, too much light, no noise, nothing, lost everything-

“Hey, hey.” Rodan opened his eyes, craning his neck up to look at San. The blond had a worried look on his face. “You weren’t able to get it in. What went wrong?”

“I felt like I was burning from the inside out.” Rodan wheezed out in a shaky tone, before stopping and taking a moment to gather himself. When he spoke again, his voice was steadier. “Am I supposed to feel like I’m losing control of my powers?”

“You’re not. Probably. I don’t feel like I’m getting struck by lightning when I meditate, but I do feel like I’m floating... You said you felt like you were burning, right...?” San seemed to think for a moment, before holding his hands out. “Take my hands.”

“... alright?” Rodan hesitantly put his hands in San’s. He shuddered. Apparently, the cold from the ice had seeped into their very being. It felt as if frost spread were his hands touched San’s. Long fingers curled around his hands, and he shivered as he felt a shock run through his body.

“If you start feeling too hot again, focus on my hands, alright?” Rodan nodded, closing his eyes again as he took a deep breath. 1, 2- liquid fire in his lungs, in his heart, can’t breath, can’t talk, all alone- he squeezed San’s hands, all cold and long fingers and letting off small shocks each time they moved- shaky 3, steady 4. He opened one eye as they held their breath in, but quickly closed it again when he saw San’s were still closed. He let it out, and San giggled. “See? You did it!”

“Y- yeah.” Rodan couldn’t help but blush. “I guess I did. What now?”

“We continue. Try to find your own rhythm. I’ll follow you.” Rodan nodded, resuming the exercise as they slowly adapted to his own breathing- which was more along the lines of 5,3,8. He could practically hear his own heart beating, how the magma flowed in his veins. Slowly everything seemed to fade away, the only thing left being the hands he held. “Rodan?”

“Mmm?”

“Open your eyes.” Rodan carefully opened one eye, before looking around in confusion.

They weren’t on Mara anymore. The sky had become whirls of color he couldn’t put a name on, and the ground a flat expense of white sand covered by a thing layer of water. Thousands upon thousands of stars filled the sky. Rodan blinked in confusion. “What the...?”

“What, first trip to the Soul Realm?” Rodan turned toward San, and screamed in surprise, letting go of his hands. Instead of San, there was now a vaguely San-shaped golden floaty thing in front of him, three pairs of round white eyes staring at him.

“Wh- San!?” He exclaimed in surprise, the spirit nodding. “What happened? Where are we? Where did Mara go? Why do you look like that-”

“One question at a time, okay? First, we’re meditating. This is what happens when you successfully separate your soul from your body. This is the Soul Realm, or the place between life and death. Mara didn’t go anywhere, in fact our bodies are still on it, alive and soaking in energy. And I look like that because that’s what my soul is like.”

Rodan groaned. “Great. And I thought the moth’s whole deal was weird...”

San giggled. “Don’t be like that, fire bird. I mean, look at you! You’re practically wrapped in fire!”

“What are you talking about- woah!” Rodan looked at his hands. His sleeves had been replaced by feathers of fire, dragging after him like a train as he got up. He slowly moved his arms, watching the flames move in synch.

He slowly started laughing, running around in circles and watching the fire around him grow larger, brighter, encompassing him. He distantly registered San laughing along or telling him to spin as he danced around, but he complied anyway, flames growing with each gleeful pirouette he did.

“You’re even brighter than the precious Fire guardian!” Rodan came to a halt at that, the flow of flames around him dying. San tilted his head at that, Round eyes becoming ovals in an imitation of confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“... Quetz had similar flames?”

“Oh yeah!” San cheerfully said, seemingly obvious to Rodan’s distress. “She was really something to behold. A bloodlust that nearly rivals Ni’s, a flawless defense in her attack, and a passion-”

“-That shined brighter than the sun could ever hope to.” Rodan finished, his voice breaking a bit on that.

San tilted his head in curiosity. “... are you sure you’re alright? Each time the former Guardian of fire comes up, you get really sad.” Rodan said nothing, simply maintaining his lack of eye contact. “With how you and your people’s hierarchy work, I thought you’d be happy about a runt like you getting close to the top of the food chain-”

Rodan’s flames flared up again, this time in anger as he screeched. “WHY WOULD I BE HAPPY ABOUT MY MATE DYING-” The flame went back to a smolder as he realized in horror what he had just blurted out. There was no way they wouldn’t try to use that against him-

San looked impassive, but what he said sounded... horrified? “You... your mate died and you ended up taking her place!?”

“I- I don’t know why it happened either-” Rodan started, the pent-up frustration and anxiety and despair that had accumulated and festered over the years starting to come out as yellow flames started surrounding them. “It’s just- we were trying to start a family and one of the attempts finally took- and before I knew it the volcano we nested in erupted and we lost the eggs and I lost a wing and she choked on the smoke and I tried to join them but Terra wouldn’t let me die-”

Rodan came to a halt as he felt two hands come up to his face. San was looking down at him, all three pair of eyes narrowed. “How cruel.” He blankly stated. “Instead of letting you join her, your god- Terra, is it?- has decided to throw her death right in your face by making you her successor... are you not angry at her?”

Rodan grabbed San by the wrists, taking his hands away from his face. “Why do you care? It’s not like you ever lost anyone dear to you.”

“I have, actually.” Rodan’s eyes widened in surprise. He would’ve called bullshit, but something about San when he said it made him seem more... vulnerable. “Back when we lived in space. He often helped us, we had similar point of views, and he was very fun to be around. A bit similar to you, really. Losing him so suddenly is what drove us to come here.”

“Oh.” Rodan took a hold of San’s hand, squeezing reassuringly. “I’m so sorry for your loss... was his death brutal, or... ?”

“Oh, he didn’t die, firebird.” San started ominously, standing to his full height. “He betrayed us.”

“W- what?” Rodan’s eyes widened in horror. As far as he was concerned, once mated, you essentially pledged your very being to that person. And while a relationship between mates could die if given enough time, betraying them before breaking off was never an option. “Why would he do that!?”

“Weaker beings are afraid of what they don’t understand, and we are very hard to understand.” San stated, his voice back to it’s dissonant cheerfulness. “I mean, I’m very sure you’ve seen quite a few humans who didn’t like Titans and wanted them dead-”

Rodan didn’t process what came out of San’s mouth next. He was too focused by his arms breaking off, separated from his shoulders by tiny black, pointy sticks. He opened his mouth to scream, only for more sticks to lodge themselves in his lips and throat, chocking off any sounds that would come out of it. As those sticks started tearing into his chest, is vision went blurry, the entire world around him melding in a sick spiral of colors, gold at it’s center.

“Rodan!? RODAN! OPEN YOUR EYES!!!” Rodan opened his eyes, eyes turned to the ground and whole body shaking as he hyperventilated. He was back in the real world. ‘Hey, hey, it’s fine, you’re fine, there’s no danger- Look at me.” He slowly looked up. The light of the mostly set sun was casting strange, moving shadows on San, his glowing red eyes amplifying the strangeness of his sharp features. “What’s wrong?”

“C- Can’t breath-”

San frowned. “Breath, then.” He sang, his voice echoing onto itself.

Rodan didn’t know why he wasn’t ignoring the Ghidorah’s songs. Hell, they were the whole reason he had built up his immunity to all Calls, thanks in no small part to hanging out with Godzilla so much. But that didn’t mean he didn’t feel the pull of it. And he was too shaken to not listen right now. He took in a large gulp of air, breathing in short, quick bursts as San held onto his hands.

“Do you want to talk about what that was about?” San asked, tilting his head. Rodan shook his head. Revealing his relationship with Quetzalcoatl could’ve gone wrong very fast, and he attributed San having someone similar to a pure stroke of luck on his part. There was no way Ghidorah could’ve ever been hurt by beings so much smaller and weaker than them. He hoped the other wouldn’t push it.

But San just nodded, letting go of Rodan’s hands and gently bending forward as his breathing calmed down. It’s then he realized. “It worked.”

San blinked in confusion. “Uh?”

“The meditation, it worked!” Rodan cheerfully exclaimed, pushing his earlier thoughts in a corner of his mind. “I feel stronger then befo-”

“Rodan.”

“GAH!” Rodan turned his head, only to see Ni staring down at him and San. “I told you not to sneak up on me like that!”

Ni simply shrugged in indifference. “You’ll get used to it.”

“Oh, hi Ni!” Ni nodded at San, before kneeling down, facing Rodan.

“I found something you might like.” Ni told him, handing him a handful of something. Rodan’s eyes widening in surprise when he realized it was a handful of small roots, nuts and grains. “You told me you couldn’t eat the fish around the island anymore, so I tried to find something you could eat in the human settlement. It’s not a lot, but it should be better than rotten fish.”

Rodan smiled, bringing the handful of food to his mouth and swallowing. He then turned toward Ni, his face glowing a bit. “And it is. Thank you, Ni.”

Ni frowned, bringing a hand to Rodan’s face. “Are you sure you’re fine? Blood keeps rushing to your face.”

That snapped Rodan out of his relaxed state of mind. He jumped up, the flush growing bigger as he did so. “Of course I’m fine, whywouldntIbefine-”

“Rodan, it’s fine, sit down-”

“AnywayitsgettinglateandIneedtosleepgoodnight!” Rodan exclaimed, followed by a strong wind that carried him off to the top of his volcano. Ni and San could see his silhouette collapse at the top of it, followed by a strange, quiet shriek.

San turned toward his brother, smiling. “Good idea to find him food!”

Ni blinked. “I didn’t think my efforts to make him like me were working.” When San gave him a confused frown, he shrugged. “Each time I try to be nice to him, he keeps getting... flustered. Embarrassed. That’s not a good thing.”

“... He’s touched.” San blankly stated. “You keep giving him gifts, Ni. Of course he’s gonna keep blushing.”

“How did you figure out he needed food?” The two turned toward Ichi, who they knew had been watching them for a time.

San waved as their older brother sat down. “Hi brother Ichi!”

“He... told me?” Ni tried hesitantly. “It’s why I told him to talk to San. So he could learn to absorb energy without soaking himself in lava. Help him stay not weak.”

Ichi nodded. “Either way, good job. The both of you.” Ni sighed in relief and San beamed at the praise. His good mood only improved as Ichi pat him on the head. “If we continue like that, we’ll be out of this place sooner than later.”

#writing #My writing #Godzilla #godzilla gijinka #gijinka #emmy kano #alan jonah #Rodan #ghidorah #King Ghidorah #san ghidorah #ni ghidorah #ichi ghidorah #kevin ghidorah #rodorah