#while being called a liar. you know the type of illness that almost killed ME. that might STILL kill me. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

loving-barnes · 3 years

Text

RED, SUS! - BUCKY BARNES

(A/N): I mean, come on, I had to write one where the team is playing Among us.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Summary: Tony calls everyone to play the current video game trend - Among us.

Warning: language, a bit fluff at the end

Words: 2800+

FULL MASTERLIST

RED, SUS! - BUCKY BARNES

The gaming world was absorbed by the new game. Everyone was streaming it, playing with friends. It was the perfect game to play during a pandemic. Unfortunately, the illness got into the Avengers compound too. Some of the agents and workers were in isolation due to the virus. Also, even though some people could be considered as Gods, this nuisance got them too. Clint remained isolated in his room, Natasha and Wanda were sick too. Their symptoms were mild, fortunately.

Tony’s orders were strict: social distancing for at least 14 days; checking via FRIDAY if anyone was in the kitchen; no gatherings or work meetings; those not affected had to be prepared for urgent or unexpected missions; masks were necessary for the hallways and common rooms and many more.

Every day, between two and five in the afternoon, they had to remain in their rooms due to obligatory disinfection that was happening in common rooms, hallways and other rooms.

They were in the middle of their two-week personal lockdown when Tony sent everyone a message to log onto their laptops. Y/N was reading a book, slowly falling asleep when it happened. She checked her phone: Conference call, urgent, now.

Y/N knew Tony pretty well. These types of messages never meant discussing work or missions. It was something for his amusement - mostly. Unwillingly and without a choice, she turned on her laptop and joined the conference call.

Natasha: Hey, YN, you joined!

Y/N waved with a hand and then scratched her neck. She looked like a mess - baggy jumper, hair in a bun and her face looked sad and tired. In conclusion, she didn’t care less. The team saw her in her worst already - drunk and almost dead.

Sam: What happened to you, Y/N? You look terrible.

Y/N: Shut it, Wilson. I am well. This is my pandemic outfit.

Bucky chuckled. She knew it was him because she could recognize his voice and other sounds anywhere.

Steve: Tony, what is the meaning behind all of this?

Tony: I’m glad you asked. Now that you are all here, and as you can see, I wanted you to join me in an adventure like never before.

Y/N: Tony, I will not drink with you while being on a conference call.

Tony: Y/N, I am not a madman. I don’t believe in virtual drinking. No, this one does not involve alcohol. All you need is your brain and the ability to lie.

Natasha: Sounds interesting, continue.

Tony: There is this new video game called Among Us which is an online multiplayer game. This game is pretty simple, there are crewmates or impostors. Crewmates have to do tasks to win and Impostors have to sabotage, fake tasks and kill to win. The goal of the game is to identify impostors and vote them out - yes, there will be meetings where we have to vote out someone or skip. The meetings also happen when someone reports a body.

Both Wanda and Y/N made a sound that reminded of howling. They were interested.

Bucky: Come on, you really called us to play some stupid video game.

Wanda: Hey! Shush! I want to play. I am so bored in my room. I need some distraction.

Y/N: Yes, exactly. This sounds so good. Let’s play, everyone, please.

Steve: Honestly, I am bored so I will join. However, I need instructions.

Tony: Not a problem, buddy. I have already installed the game and sent you everything necessary. Just to explain one last detail. We will be on a conference call while playing. But, once the round starts, everyone has to mute their mics. When a meeting is called, you have to unmute and we discuss who to vote out and why. Once you are dead, you have to stay muted until the end of the game. At the beginning of every round, you will see whether you are an imposter or a crewmate. Don’t forget, impostors have to lie.

Y/N: Give us ten minutes to check the materials and to start the game, alright? We have some people that are not too good with this type of technology.

Y/N mocked Steve and Bucky especially. They were friends and she occasionally had to tease them. And when Sam was getting on her nerves, she would treat him the same way, if not even worse.

Clint: Oh, that is easy.

Natasha: Finally, something that will keep me occupied for more than ten seconds.

Bruce: Do I have to play?

Tony: Yes. Ten people are needed for two impostors and for it to be fun. You are playing, Banner.

Y/N: Does everyone understand?

The team simultaneously agreed, each person with a different tone. Y/N turned on the game, as well as the rest of the team did, putting on the code Tony had sent them. She spawned in a lobby, as a little lime figure.

Tony: You can also customise colours and accessories by coming to the laptop and using it.

Y/N quickly did as Tony informed them. She changed the colour to purple and put a golden crown on. It was adorable and it did represent her a little. When she was finished, the rest of the team was in the lobby. They also customised their figures to represent them.

Y/N: Oh my god, this is already so much fun.

Tony: Just to clarify - the crewmate’s vision is lower than the imposters have. The kill cooldown is 30 seconds. Voting time is 120 seconds, etc. You can see it on your left. I am starting the game and don’t forget to mute your mics.

Y/N muted her mic as the game started. She was a crewmate. They all were standing around a table. She started to move to the right. That was when she noticed a map on the screen. When she opened it, a blue map appeared with yellow exclamation marks. When she ran to the first room, she noticed a chair was illuminated with yellow colour.

"Alright, asteroids," she mumbled and did the task.

Other players passed her, or stayed near her, even Bucky’s character did. His figure was white. When she moved, he moved with her. “That’s sus,” she commented and moved down the map to find another task. Bucky was still with her until the lights went off.

“Fuck,” she whisper-shouted when the light around her was just a tiny circle. Several figures were around her and a report button appeared. She quickly clicked it.

A board with all the names showed. Wanda and Sam were dead. She quickly unmuted her mic to talk to the rest of the players. “What the fuck was that?”

Tony: Where is the body?

Y/N: Down in the O2 I believe. The lights went off and suddenly, so many people were around me. Just a report button appeared.

Steve: Who was there except you?

Y/N: I saw Bucky, who was following me - by the way, sus, Barnes. You did your asteroids way too quickly.

Bucky: I didn’t have that task, I just wanted to stay with you.

Tony: Sus!

Natasha: Steve and I were in the admin. That fucking card swipe. I failed it like ten times!

Y/N: Anyway, I think I saw Sam, Bruce and Clint with us. Now, Sam is dead.

Clint: What if it’s you?

Y/N: How dare you, Barton?

The time was slowly coming to its end and it was time to vote. Y/N had no idea who did the kill. She quickly voted skip.

Bruce: We can skip because there are still eight of us.

Tony: Banner, sus.

Everyone skipped except Tony, who voted Clint. No one was ejected and the game could continue. They reappeared in the cafeteria around the table. This time, Y/N went down, because her map showed her she had some task there. Again, Bucky followed her. He stayed at the very beginning of the room while she went in and did the card swipe task. She was lucky to finish it on her second try. Once she was finished, Bucky was nowhere to be seen.

She moved to the wires task. She heard the door to the cafeteria close. When she cleared the task, Bucky was again with her. Maybe he was just protecting her. She had no idea.

The reactor was called. It was time to fix it. Bucky and Y/N moved through storage, under the electrical where they were met with Natasha, Tony and Bruce. They all moved to the reactor where Vision was. Everyone stacked on the upper reactor while Y/N was down alone. The reactor was saved and a body was reported. Natasha and Steve were killed.

Bucky: What the hell happened? Natasha is dead and there are like four of us.

Y/N: Was that a double kill?

Tony: No, it was only Nat. Captain was killed somewhere else, obviously.

Bruce: Most of us were together except Y/N, Bucky and Clint.

Bucky: Y/N and I were in admin, doing our tasks.

Tony: What about you, Vision?

Vision: I am afraid I was alone most of the time. I did see people on cameras where I spent most of the time this round.

Y/N: Clint, what about you?

Clint: I was in… I don’t know the name but I came from the upper side of the map.

Tony: I saw Steve going the way where medbay is.

Y/N: Barton, you killed Steve!

Clint: No, I didn’t.

Tony: Barton, get out of here.

The voting was quickly coming to its end and almost everyone voted. Clint was the last one. He refused. When the time was up, the gang voted for Clint and he was ejected.

Bucky: That’s what you get.

Y/N: That’s sus.

The game continued and Y/N was almost done with her tasks. Bucky was most of the time with her, again. When the lights went out again, she had decided not to go into the electrical. She didn’t want to die. It had been a long time since something happened. No bodies were reported, the taskbar was almost full. Alone, she quickly ran to the cafeteria and pressed the report button. When the board appeared, Only Bruce, Bucky and her were alive.

Y/N: What?!

Bruce: Bucky, how could you?

Bucky: Honestly, Bruce, I saw you kill Tony. Don’t blame me for this.

Y/N: Oh no.

Bruce: Y/N, please don’t believe him, please. I am not the impostor. I was about to report the body when you hit the emergency button.

Bucky: Wow, you are such a good liar.

Y/N: No, don’t do this to me.

Both of the men voted for each other, leaving her to decide the fate of the game. Who should she vote out? Bucky was with her most of the time and she did not see Bruce a lot. It made sense it was Banner. However, Bucky could be very good at this, using tactics like being in a field.

Bruce: Y/N, you have to vote - vote for him. I am a crewmate. I saw him kill Tony in the lower reactor.

Y/N: I mean, to be honest, Bucky was with me almost the whole game. I don’t think he would be able to do this.

Bruce: No, Y/N, don’t do this. He needed you as an alibi.

Bucky: How the hell would I do that? I was by her side the whole time and did my tasks.

Y/N quickly voted for who she believed was the killer. When the results had shown, she voted for Bruce. For her, it made a lot of sense. How else would Bucky be able to do it? The rest of the team unmuted, screaming her name, laughing and making scenes. After a few seconds, the revelation came - they lost. Bucky was, in fact, the second impostor.

Y/N: I mean, fuck both of you. What the actual fuck. You fucking tricked me!

Tony: Kids calls it marinating.

Bucky: I am sorry, doll. You were the perfect person to stick with.

Y/N: Again, fuck you.

Bucky: You wish.

Sam: Wow, can you feel the sexual tension?

Natasha: Sam, why do you make such stupid comments. You are such an intelligent man.

Y/N changed her colour to Red, taking Wanda’s colour. She didn’t mind because she changed it into yellow. The next few games were funny. Two rounds Tony was an impostor. First with Steve than with Bruce. Two hours later, it was Y/N’s turn and she was paired with Bucky.

“Holy shit,” she mumbled and sighed. This was her moment and she wanted to win, fast. She created a strategy. Before she could play by it, her phone rang. Bucky’s name appeared on her screen. “Yes?”

“Well, what a dream team,” he chuckled. “What is the plan?”

“First two kills, at random. After the first report, we will make a graveyard,” she said. “Honestly, that is going to be quick and funny.”

“Sounds good. Where are you now?” he asked.

She looked at the game and then at a map. “I am in admin, pretending to fail card swipe. I will turn off the lights once someone enters and then vent.”

“I see Sam!”

“Kill him,” she encouraged him and turned off the lights. Vision came into the admin alone.

They both took their opportunity and killed both people. Y/N vented into the cafeteria and went to weapons and Bucky quickly went into the comms, pretending to do a task. A few moments later, Sam’s body was reported.

Natasha: Where is the body?

Wanda: Between O2 and shields. I think that is shields.

Steve: Any suspicions?

Y/N: I was passing by the cafeteria from medbay. When the lights were off, no one was around me.

Tony: Bruce and I were in the reactor, doing the Simon says a thing. And I will fucking kill you for the report because now I have to do it again.

Clint: Barnes, where were you?

Bucky: On my way to storage. Did my quick task in coms.

Bruce: So, no one is suspicious?

Natasha: Honestly, we can skip. There are still eight of us.

They all agreed and skipped voting. No one was ejected. When Y/N muted her mic, she went back to the call she had with Bucky. They both were laughing about the situation. “It’s a graveyard time.”

“Where should we do it?” Bucky asked.

“Reactor. After the first two kills, we will call the O2. During it, someone will come, searching for a body.”

They both ran together into the reactor. Wanda was following them. She was about to become their first victim. After they arrived at the reactor, Bruce was also there, working on his Simon says. Their kill cooldown was almost at the end.

“Come on, Buck, now!”

Simultaneously, they killed Bruce and Wanda. Y/N waited almost ten seconds and called the O2 as she mentioned. Bucky quickly closed the doors around them, to slow them down. Their kill cooldown took thirty seconds and they needed time.

The O2 was called off. They noticed the door around them opening and Tony was the first one approaching them. He reached the reactor and Bucky killed him. “One more and we win.”

“We have to hope someone else will come, otherwise they will call the button,” she explained.

They were lucky. Steve and Natasha were on their way. Y/N quickly approached them and killed Steve. With that kill, the game was over and the impostors, Y/N and Bucky, won.

Clint: What the fuck?

Natasha: How did you do that?

Tony: They did a graveyard!

Sam: Fuck you, Barnes, for killing me.

Bucky: It was my pleasure.

Y/N: Oh my god, this was hilarious. Oh, my favourite round of all we played today.

Bucky: Same.

Tony: Want another game?

Y/N: No, I want to take a break and make something to eat. We have been playing for hours. Let’s play tomorrow.

Natasha: You are right. I need to take a nap after this.

Steve: It’s almost seven.

Natasha: My nap will take until tomorrow morning.

Y/N’s phone beeped. She looked at the screen again. There was a text from the other impostor. Can I come over and watch a movie with you? It made her smile.

Only if it involves the good popcorn you make and some kisses - she replied. They had been dating for over a month and things were going great. The team had their suspicions but they had decided not to meddle in their private life. Steve was happy and Tony was overly protective of Y/N but didn’t say a word.

Y/N: I have to go. I am going to watch a movie.

Clint: Oh yeah? Can I join?

Y/N: No, I would like to enjoy it alone.

Nat: Huh, that’s sus.

Y/N: What is sus about it?

Nat: Watching a movie, alone. Why would you want to watch it alone?

Y/N: Because no one is making stupid comments during the movie I want to watch.

Tony: Red, sus.

Y/N: Alright, bye-bye friends.

She ended the call and put her laptop on the night table. Rolling her eyes, she made her bed and went to the bathroom. Bucky would come any minute and she wanted to set the place.

Who would have known this game would bring the whole team together?

#Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #Bucky #Bucky x reader #Bucky x female reader #Bucky Barnes x you #Bucky x you #Avengers x reader #Bucky Barnes x female reader #reader x Bucky Barnes #James Barnes #James Barnes x reader

128 notes · View notes

lampoest · 3 years

Text

Unfiltered thoughts watching mission impossible rouge nation inspired by @chaotically-cas

(sorry its so long my brain is all over the place)

this is also part 14 of me watching it every day :/

CURSING WARNING !! ALSO SPOILERS !!!

why is brandt first to speak

starting out with "shit" good call benji

brandt man we get the package is on the mcfucking plane

badass luther 10/10

nervous benji 10/10

that one sound effects sounds like the discord notif

why he in a fancy suit

*jumps on a plane with almost no plan on getting inside*

why did tom cruise think this was agood idea?

but like why would benji even open the ramp?

how is he not winded from that?

classic ethan

THE INTRO 1000/10

SOLOMON LANE !!

wait you can already see lane in the record shop.

how do they tell the agents these little convos?

also damn way to give it away

what if someone just looked in that room and saw the secret message?

also how did the disc get changed? because the imf definitely didnt make that

and how did lane know where he was going?

speaking of lane---

dang that man is pretty

he always sets guns down carefully

i can only see alec baldwin as trump from his snl skits so i dont take hunley seriously ;-;

damn brandt needs to step it up. man keeps letting himself be inturrupted

bruh the imf is only luck

why did no one resrict his legs?

also why is janik such an asshole?

dang she cool !!

why does it take janik so long to get that gun?

bravo-echo 1-1

this man is bleeding but decided instead of taking care of his wound he calls brandt.

i like how you actually see ethan worried and confused trying to plan his next moves. he is rarely caught off guard so it's refreshing to see his more human side

hunley spitting accusations damn bro

also a big fuck you from ethan to hunley

dang ethan is good

brandts little hidden smile

and ethan leaving trails

bitch how you sketch that good???

STAN BENJI !!

youve won, your way out of a job

benji is good

my little brandt x benji shipper in me is happy

simon pegg is such a good actor

the first time i saw this i was like: aww noooo

all dunn with that

TO THE OPERA !!!

TUX BENJI TUX BENJI

i cant tell if that was ethan

it just looks like youre talking to yourself thats more sus than using a phone

want drama? go to the opera

ok but like if you look like that im sorry you are a bad guy. thats like a stereotypical bad guy face

benji-

you can see ethan in the background of that scene

flute gun flute gun

oh no benji is in the closet. dont worry man we love you

if i were there and i just had a good vantage point i could find lane in an instant

ooh ilsa pretty

pipe gun

also pamphlet computer

those key things are cool and plausible

spiderman spiderman does whatever, ethan hunt can?

a W O M A N

what W O M A N?

reminds me of a marshmallow gun i made out if pvc pipes.

why does she not put that thing back?

also the dude loads it and then later it is unloaded

dang that guy is pretty tall.

ethan is so tiny

dis bitch is like uhh gimmie a sec to catch my breath mate

why he only dropkick people?

only 30 mins in ?!?!

the cinematography is exquisite

yes benji goin sicko mode

*gets shot* just a flesh wound

bruh i would've been so startled at that

i love how confused he is at that

ilsa saves ethan once again

they did this on the first day of filming

skdjs

ah yes random package in car = not bomb totally

if she tried to shoot benji then yes she is a bad person

but she didnt try to, she could've easily but didn't

benji being paranoid

she could just say the dude's name

benji being scared

hunley jumping to conclusions

brandt actually cares yeey

why di they approach from different sides of the street they were in the same car.

benji was far away from the sparks why he flinch?

friendship goals

oop plot dump that only mission impossible can get away with

ok...

why this mf's voice so smooth

lane is struggling with chopsticks

also lane :))))

ive chocked on my water so many times watching this scene

lanes voice :))))))

SHE RUINED HIS SUSHI WHAT THE FUCK ILSA

this man dont know what personal space is

gotta look up these peeps mbti types

casablanca references

also benji is wearing dollar store lookin glasses while ethan is wearing some fancy glasses

luther is top notch

as much as i dont like jeremy renner he delivers these lines really well

because atlee is a bitch

oh honey please, impossible is a walk in the park

benji just wants to wear a mask

id be so nervous walking through those

yes...

personal wellbeing who?

why not bring a plastic bottle full of air?

tom cruise can hold his breath for 6 minutes and he learned to do so for that scene

luther big brain

damn cctv

why did they need to break in while benji was going in?

das sus but ok

also isnt et voila french?

she just randomly tapping the ipad

benji being stressed

if he missed the exact center

i want one of those to open my locker's lock

if he just went with the current and didnt try to force his way against the water ilsa wouldn't have had to save him

imagine if he put the wrong one in-

she is breathing heavily to over saturate her body with oxygen so she can hold her breath longer

see ilsa makes it out without well and she went with the current

BENJI'S OUTFIT YESSS :))))))

no you didn't

you gave her a false sense of security

ethan's confused face for the next like 10 mins is great

liar

why does that one man look like sean ambrose?

parkour

skdjdksjdjdkfjs

the facial acting in this

STAIRS STAIRS STAIRS

the glare yesss

vrrrm vrrm

hey its you !

drivin like a grandma

shit !

benji just screaming

im convinced that ethan is indestructible

no you didn't survive that

bonk

dskfh

ethan didnt just-

also why didnt benji just tell ethan he made a copy ???

dont shoot and drive kids

high speed motorcycle chase with no helmet or leather. tom cruise, how?

i wanna learn how to drive a motorcycle

HOW THE FUCK IS HE NOT DEAD YET ?!?!

the lighting

ofc brandt would be the person why sits backwards on a chair. fkn bi vibes

benji to the rescue

fuck off atlee

i am so proud of us ...

the lines are done so well here

benji lookin like how i look when my parents argue

YES THIS SCENE

LANE LANE LANE LANE LANE

im too fucking gay for this movie-

once again no personal space

*inhales* :))))))))))))))

ive like memorized the entire script of this including the music

1 man performance of m:i5 ???

benji's outfit

also i love how youre able to see the characters in the background. props for the attention to detail

i need that haircut because his hair is lookin A+

fuck you atlee

ilsa spitting straight facts

uhh ilsa he still loves julia

NO BENJI NOOOO

EW FUCK OFF JANIK NO ONE LIKES YOU

speak of the devil-

betrayal--

WOULDNT YOU LIKE TO KNOW WEATHER BOY !??

actin sus

BENJI LANE BENJI LANE

his posture shdhskhsj (i cant be talking though)

0 personal space whatsoever

why does everyone have the same haircut in this???

simon mcburney pretending to be hunt prentending to be atlee

manipulation !?

the syndicate you say ? i know a thing or two about them 😼😼😼

damn though renner delivers these lines really well

a black tie? how informal. ..

complimenting hunt right infront of him

but he really didnt

i never realized that they were on the clock for this

huh...

the lil head nod though-

HAHA YEAH FUCK YOU ATLEE

is it bad that i hate atlee more than i hate lane?

ethan big smart wrinkle brain

janik just reading a fucking magazine

ethan has a photographic memory

oh look its benji :)))

lane :))))

ethan being tough

it must be aquward to get the low angle shots

lane is running out the clock to put pressure on ethan hmmm big brain

it isnt working though :\

damn he so cocky that hes telling the villain his plan

ill give you 1/5 of the money you wanted to get my bf back

ok but like does tom cruise just not age?

kill the woman

ugh i hate janik

the trust that is shown between those two is great

yes the score and the chase are so great

also this man really hates windows for some reason

fuck off janik

sneaky sneaky

EYY ITS LANE !!!

yeyy janik is dead

once again dodging bullets and hating glass

couldve killed him but needed him alive

the glass box

badass ethan

all the pretty men assembled

lane really let himself go aster this

dang though lane is my favorite villain ever

i like how for once the girl and the guy just are friends instead of romantically involved

eyy the callbacks to how the movie started.

welcome to the imf

#benji x brandt #mission impossible rogue nation #mission impossible #ethan hunt #benji dunn #luther stickell #ilsa faust #william brandt

63 notes · View notes

exhaustedfander · 4 years

Note

For the prompt: Intrulogical, one of them is sick, one must take care of the other

I haven’t written a sickfic in ages and I forgot how cute these things were. I decided to make Remus the one taking care of Logan because I like the idea of the bastard man being soft for one(1) nerd. I’d love to hear what you guys think, enjoy!

a03 link

Word Count: 3,313

I’ll Take Care of You [Intrulogical]

Logan wakes with a pounding in his head, feeling as though his body has been (figuratively) lit on fire. His hand skims over the bedsheet, something that’s quite odd to him; he doesn’t recall climbing into bed. He groans, squinting, and noticing his apparent lack of spectacles. In attempting to sit up Logan feels a pair of hands pressing him back into pillows.

“Easy there, hot stuff,” Remus. Why is Logan in bed with an ache deep in his bones, and why is Remus here? "Emphasis on the hot because you’re burning up.”

Remus, in what Logan can only assume is a moment of incredible generosity, hands him his glasses. Logan slides them over his face, looking down at his clothes to see he is not, in fact, in his normal attire but rather a pair of outer space-themed pajamas. And when he glances at Remus there isn’t the usual manic look in his eyes, but rather one he’d nearly dare to call concern.

“What happened? What’s – what’s going on?” Logan can’t ignore the rawness in his throat that burns when he speaks.

“You and I were having a conversation about the best way to kill a man without getting caught,” Remus explains casually. Yes, Logan seems to remember that to some extent. They had rattled off the ideas of poisoning as well as the many ways one can frame a murder to appear accidental, “And then you just plopped onto the floor like all of your bones had turned to jelly! When I touched your head I realized you were burning hot and in your fatigue, I guess you passed out cold. Y’know, teach, for someone who argues the importance of wellness as much as you do, you really aren’t practicing what you preach. When was the last time you slept? Or put some food in you?”

Logan had never thought that Remus of all people would be in a position to scold him about his life choices, and yet here he is.

“I – well, I suppose I’m not –.” Remus cocks an eyebrow.

“you’re not sure? Yeah, that’s what I thought. Here, drink some water,” Remus says, handing him a glass, “God, Roman goes on and on about your “extremist water agenda” meanwhile you’re dehydrated as fuck.” Logan drains the glass quickly, bearing the heavy weight of Remus’s stare. As Logan attempts to untangle himself from the bedsheets Remus’s hand settles on his shoulder, pinning him in place.

“Remus –.”

“Not so fast, nerdy wolverine,” Remus says in what could almost be constituted as a scolding tone, “You’ve worked yourself into sickness and now you’re paying the price. Imagine if you’d collapsed in front of one of the others? Pattycake, for example, well he would’ve flipped his lid, I’m sure. Or my brother, for instance, might’ve tried to “rescue you” into recovery. But me, not so much.” Logan lays back down, feeling fairly defeated though he’s rather distracted by the throbbing in his head.

“And you’re the no-nonsense type?” It seems even in sickness, Logan’s dry-wit hasn’t left him. What a miracle.

“Oh, I’m all for nonsense,” Remus says with a gleeful smile before turning back to Logan, “And as much fun as it would be for Thomas to be without his logic for a while – which, believe me, I considered – I’m sure the others would have my head. Oh, isn’t that delightful to think about? My head on a spike oozing blood? And – and my tongue would be sticking out of my tongue like this,” Remus imitates, his tongue growing several inches longer and hanging limp against his chin. “But seriously, knock that shit off. You can’t just go passing out in front of people, you of all sides should be taking your health into consideration.”

“And that’s why you put me to bed?” Logan asks, eyeing Remus as carefully as he can despite the splotches of color that cloud his vision, “Because you were concerned about how the others would react to me being unwell?” For a moment Remus looks almost as flushed as Logan is, which the logical side finds rather odd. Remus isn’t one to become easily embarrassed; sometimes Logan wonders if it’s even capable for him to become as such.

“Think of it as me paying back a favor. I mean, you’ve helped me out too many times to count. Remember when you took that arrow out of my eye?” Remus asks with a laugh, “Ah, good times.”

“And that’s the only reason you’ve decided to help me and uh, dress me?” Logan asks, glancing back down at his clothes that he doesn’t recall changing into.

“Well, dressing you isn’t very hard at all,” Remus says, snapping his fingers and suddenly losing every stitch of clothing. Logan covers his eyes as though it’s anything he hasn’t seen before. “See, undressed,” Remus snaps again, “dressed! Undressed, dressed. Oh, stop covering your eyes, dork, you and I both know this isn’t the first time you’ve seen my dick.”

That’s the thing. If you’d have told Logan he and Remus would someday be sleeping together regularly, he would’ve thought such a thing was preposterous. In fact, even friendship between them was something he hadn’t considered in the cards. And even so, before he understood what was going on he and Remus were cultivating a relationship.

Logan hadn’t thought it at first, but as it turns out, Remus is a very good listener. Yes, he tends to drift from topic to topic on a whim, but Logan’s come to not mind that much at all. He indulges in Logan’s rants about outer space, the depths of the ocean, and the secrets that hide beneath the briny deep, the most peculiar flora and fauna that exist on the planet as well as so many other topics. He does more than put up with Logan’s interests, he encourages them. It’s refreshing, the conversations that he and Remus have.

Remus brings out something strange in Logan, an impulsion he wasn’t aware he was even capable of. Remus is crude and reckless and all over the place, but Logan’s become endeared to him in more ways he’d ever imagined possible. It was out of this impulsion that Remus prompts in him so that Logan kissed the intrusive side several months ago. In the past, he’d never dare to do something so messy and feelings-y, but after spending as much time as he had with Remus as well as the emotions surrounding him, for one of the first times in his existence Logan allowed himself to let loose.

Their relationship was initially driven by lust, but it took very little time for things to deepen. It had been one thing for Logan to enjoy spending time with Remus, but now he looked forward to it every chance he got, his face betraying his stoic nature in a smile every time Remus entered the room. Before long, Remus was using the word boyfriend and Logan was accepting it.

The thought that he’s worried his partner, even in the state of near delusion he’s in, crosses his mind.

“M’ sorry for worrying you,” Logan says, his voice slurring slightly as though he’s intoxicated. Remus sighs, kneeling beside Logan and pushing aside his bangs that are plastered with sweat to his forehead. Remus has only ever seen Logan so disheveled during sex, and he’s certainly never seen him so weak.

“Who says I was worried?” Remus asks as though his tone of voice hasn’t already betrayed it, “Okay, fine. Maybe I was a little worried, fucking sue me.”

“You’re taking care of me,” Logan notes dizzily, leaning into Remus’s touch as he runs a hand through his messy hair, “That’s nice.”

“Shit, Lo, you’re loopier than I thought,” Remus musses, seeing the far-off look in his boyfriend’s eyes, “How’s your head?”

“It hurts.” Remus is fairly sure this is the first time he’s ever heard logic whine, and he’d be a damn liar if he said it isn’t kind of adorable.

“Okay, okay, I’ll get you some medicine,” Remus says, getting up to leave before feeling Logan’s clammy hand clamp down on his wrist.

“Logan?”

“Don’t leave,” Logan’s voice comes out weak and sad, “Please don’t leave.” It’s almost too much to handle, the sentimentality to Logan’s words as well as the almost juvenile desire for him to stay by his side as if something horrible will become of him if Remus leaves. There’s no way Logan’s going to believe any of this transpired once his head is clear again. Remus really should be filming this.

“Aw, Lolo, stop being so cute for a second, okay? I need to go get you some medicine and something to eat.”

“I’m not cute,” Logan pouts, “I’m serious, remember? Necktie…” Remus chuckles.

“Strange, I don’t see a tie on you at the moment.” Logan huffs. “Just stay there for a second, okay? I’ll get you some medicine, it’ll make you feel better.” Remus can’t recall the last time he acted so civilly. “Taking care” of others really isn’t his thing, destruction and utter chaos is. If any of the others were ill, he doesn’t think he’d be acting the way he is, so put together and fucking caring, it almost makes him sick to think about. But Logan isn’t anybody else, he’s his boyfriend who’s overworked himself to the point of delusion and maybe he’s being a tad bit protective, but the idea of someone else taking care of Logan leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Just because he’s Remus doesn’t mean he’s any less capable of doing so, or at least that’s what he’s telling himself.

Remus comes back with the medicine and has to spend several minutes convincing Logan to take it; who knew he was such a bad patient? He sits with him a while listening to Logan spout almost as much nonsense that Remus usually does before Logan drifts off again.

“Don’t worry,” Remus whispers, pressing a kiss to Logan’s temple, “I’ll take care of you, dork.”

It’s a stupidly heartfelt thing to say, especially when Logan is clearly asleep, but it just seems to slip out. Remus slinks out of the room as quietly as he can, shutting the door behind him gently rather than slamming it like he usually does before wandering into the kitchen.

Remus is surprised to find Patton humming tunelessly as he stirs a pot of soup.

“Oh! Hiya Remus,” Patton says when he catches sight of him, looking a little startled in his presence. Even so, Remus has been hanging around the light sides a lot more, especially since Janus got accepted by Thomas, so Patton’s had some time to get a bit more used to him.

“Hi, Pattycake,” Remus greets, “Whatcha making? It smells good.”

“Chicken noodle soup,” he replies matter-of-factly, “It’s for Logan.” Remus quirks an eyebrow. That’s what Remus was about to attempt to make himself, but this smells homemade.

“How’d you know he was sick?”

“Oh, a dad has a way of knowing when his kiddos aren’t doing so hot,” Patton replies cryptically, “I also noticed Logan seemed a little off earlier. How’s he doing?” Remus pulls himself onto the kitchen counter, swinging his legs.

“Not fan-fucking-tastic,” Remus notes the way Patton bites his lip at that, probably about to scold him for his “potty mouth,” “I’ve told that nerd a billion gazillion times that he needs to take better care of himself. I swear he’s so wrapped up in looking after the rest of you I think he forgets about himself.” Patton hums thoughtfully.

“You really care about him, don’t you?” Remus blinks, the back and forth motion of his legs ceasing.

“Huh?” Patton smiles.

“I’ve heard the way Logan talks about you. I don’t even think he realizes how sweet he sounds when he’s saying it, about the conversations you two have and the experiments you do together. You make him awfully happy, you know that?”

Remus wants to play off the shock the statement has provoked. He wants to grin manically and talk about butts, or Jeffrey Dahmer, or anything else other than the warmth that blooms in the cavity in his chest where he believed a heart wasn’t present. But he can’t.

“Logan talks about me?” Patton laughs like Remus has just asked the most absurd question.

“Well of course he does, silly! You’re his boyfriend, aren’t ya?”

“I – uh – yeah. Yeah, I am. I didn’t know you knew that, though?” It comes out as a question. He’s never mentioned it to anyone except Janus, thinking that Logan wouldn’t want to tell the others.

“Yeah, Janus told me about it.” Remus’s jaw slackens. “Oh dear, was I not supposed to know that?”

“I mean, it’s not a secret, I guess. I’m just kind of surprised Double D would tell you.”

“Well, I’m sure I would’ve figured it out, either way, the way you two look at each other is so gosh darn cute! Janny just mentioned it in passing, really.” Remus narrows his eyes at Patton.

“Janny? There’s no way in hell Janus would let anyone call him that.” Patton flushes at that.

“You should hear the other things he lets me call him…” Remus slaps a hand over his mouth.

“Holy balls! Are you and Jan-the-man fucking?” Patton’s blush deepens as he turns the oven off and gets a bowl out of the cupboard.

“Well, looks like the soup’s ready! Better take some to Logan before it gets cold!” Remus hops off the counter with as much grace, taking the bowl from Patton’s hands and eyeing him suspiciously.

“This is not the end of this conversation,” he says, not missing the way Patton’s Adam’s apple bobs in a gulp, “I gotta admit, I’m kinda surprised you’re letting me take care of the nerd. I would think you’d jump at the chance to play nurse.” Patton shrugs.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to encroach on your time with him. I know you and I have had our disagreements,” Remus bites back to urge to say a very Roman-esque ‘UH understatement much!’, “But I also know you care a lot about Logan. And you also-also know that if anything bad ever happened to him that I would be very, very upset with you,” Patton flashes a demented smile clearly meant to intimidate Remus and he can certainly respect that. The smile fades back to his normal cheery nature as quickly as it appeared, “Now, get going and make him feel a Pat-ton better, okay kiddo?” Remus snorts at the silly name pun, taking a spoon from the drawer before taking the bowl down the hall.

“See ya around, Daddio.” Remus decides he’s going to have to kick Janus’s ass for not telling him about him and Patton. More so, though, Remus’s mind is occupied by the fact that Logan has spoken about him fondly and that Patton claimed that their affection for one another was obvious. To some extent, Remus had been under the assumption that Logan wouldn’t want to mention their relationship at all.

Remus opens the door slowly, balancing the bowl in his elbow as he finds Logan blinking awake at him. As much as he’d wanted to let Logan sleep, he isn’t sure the last time he’s had anything to eat.

“Remus?”

“I’m right here,” Remus says setting the bowl down on the bedside table and kneeling beside Logan’s bed, “I brought you some soup.” Logan squints, reaching for his glasses again and putting them back on.

“Huh?”

“Patton made you some, LoLo. Pops said he had a hunch you weren’t doing so hot. He’s a real smart cookie when it comes to taking care of you all, huh?” Logan scrunches up his face.

“I don’t want any.” Remus lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Oh come on, dorkalicious. You need to eat something, and it’ll be good for you.”

“Says the guy who regularly consumes deodorant.”

“Hey, that’s unrelated. I’m not the one who let myself get into such rough shape. Now be a good boy and eat your fucking chicken-noodle-soup.” Logan groans as Remus blows on a spoonful of soup and brings it towards Logan’s mouth. Logan sighs, opening his mouth and sighing around the spoon as he swallows a mouthful.

“Hungry, aren’t you?” Logan fails to reply, sitting up and placing the bowl in his lap. Remus watches as Logan devours the soup at record speed, draining the bowl in a few minutes. Remus chuckles, setting the bowl aside and seeing the way Logan’s eyes begin to droop again.

“You left me,” Logan pouts childishly, earning another laugh from his boyfriend.

“You fell asleep, babe,” Remus chides, “And I needed to get you something to eat. I never thought you’d be such a brat when you’re sick.” Logan sags back into the pillows as Remus pets his hair again.

“M’ not a brat,” Logan mumbles sleepily.

"Oh of course you aren’t. You’re just my difficult little shithead boyfriend. But a brat? You’d never dare be such a thing.” Logan makes a noncommittal noise before muttering something that sounds vaguely like “Come here.”

“What was that?” Logan sighs.

“Come here,” Logan repeats more clearly. “I want you to hold me.” Remus could scratch his own eyes out Logan is being so cute! His boyfriend is always so formal and presentable, which is nothing that Remus particularly minds, but this behavior is so out of character it’s kind of a lot to process. Logan seldom asks for cuddles, even when he wants them, so this direct neediness comes as a surprise.

“Fine, but only because you’re ailing,” Remus says dramatically as if he doesn’t always jump at the chance to cuddle with his boyfriend. Logan relaxes against Remus, throwing his arms around him loosely and snuggling into his shoulder. Logan’s skin is still clearly flushed, but his fever seems to be going down.

“Are you feeling any better?” Remus asks, his voice conveying more worry than he intends to express.

“A bit,” Logan mutters, “Thanks for looking after me.”

“Sure thing, dork. I mean, someone had to do it.”

“Yes, but you didn’t have to. You’re good, Rem. Really good.” Remus smiles, pressing a kiss to Logan’s cheek.

“You’re such a fucking sap when you’re delirious, it’s too cute.” Logan ignores that, his eyes fluttering closed.

“I love you, Remus.” Remus feels his heartrate spike as Logan’s grip around him tightens slightly. Remus knew that he and Logan share some very mushy, gushy feelings, but Logan loves him? Genuinely, truly loves him? For some time now he’s been trying to ignore the true depth of his feelings for Logan, not wanting to endanger a good thing, but now it looks like he doesn’t have to. Granted, Logan’s admitted these feelings in a state of delusion, but Remus doesn’t believe it to be any less true. If Patton says he sees their chemistry and Logan’s been as clingy as he has been, then he’s gonna choose to believe it.

“I love you too,” he says softly, far gentler than he’d ever imagined the admission would be – not that he really thought he’d ever get the opportunity to tell him in the first place. “I’m crazy about you, Lo.”

“Don’t let me go,” Logan says lethargically, half-asleep already, “I don’t wanna wake up to you being gone.”

“Okay, nerd,” Remus says, his heart – yes, he’s concluded that he’s got a heart somewhere in his chest, considering how soft Logan’s made him feel today – overflowing with love, “I’ll stay. I’m not going anywhere.”

“That will be satisfactory,” Logan mumbles before slipping back into unconsciousness.

Remus lies awake in Logan’s arms, thinking of how not long-ago Logan had considered himself completely emotionless and he had thought of himself as void of the capability for affection or love. Remus has never been so glad to be proven wrong.

=+=

125 notes · View notes

what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

CSI Rogers and Barnes: The Serious Cereal Serial Killer Episode 16: Is This Thing Rolling...

Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Part 1

Summary: Having figured out previously where Rumlow has taken Katie, it’s now a race against time for The 4 Avengers to reach her before it’s too late. Armed with…yeah…ok, actually, we’ll let you read that bit because frankly this entire chapter is ridiculously fun!!!

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: LONG update here guys so we split it into 2 for you to read as you wish. I know we said Episode 15 was the penultimate chapter but we had too much to cram in so…THIS is the Penultimate chapter! Episode 17 will be the last, followed by an Epilogue.

Anyway, enjoy!!!

Chapter Song: Everything by Michael Buble

CSI R&B Masterlist // Main Masterlist

You’re a falling star, you’re the getaway car, you’re the line in the sand when I go too far. You’re the swimming pool on an August day and you’re the perfect thing to see.

Almost two and a half months after the unit cracked the case of the Serious Cereal Serial killer, as Thor had coined it one morning while watching Bucky scarf down a bowl of oatmeal at such a rate that he almost choked on it, everything seemed to be fitting into place.

Rumlow and Wanda were rotting in jail. The former had been taken to a prison of maximum security in another county where he had been isolated while he waited for his trial to take place, whereas Wanda had been taken to the female wing, called Nidavellir, at the Nine Realms prison.

Katie had been back at the 99 for almost two months now and was working hand in hand with Peralta, which had given Santiago some relief as Katie was able to appease her husband’s excited and unorthodox methods. Gina had also been back at the 99 full time since another police technician, Scott Lang, previously in charge of the switchboard, had been appointed by Fury as the new Captain’s assistant at the 101st. To say he had been star-struck by the most famous police Captain in the NYPD would be an understatement, wringing Steve’s hand up and down for what felt like 5 minutes.

All in all Steve and Katie were doing well. They were in a happy domestic arrangement. She had moved in with Steve the moment Tony and Pepper had set a date for the wedding, even before she was taken by Rumlow after they had cracked the case and well before she decided to finish her secondment in DC and come back to Brooklyn permanently. And two months later she had given up pretending it was a temporary arrangement.

In fact, one Sunday morning while they were cuddling on the sofa, after an exhausting night and an invigorating breakfast, Katie had shyly asked Steve what he would think if she said she didn't want to find her own place but stay with him till they both found a place of their own. Steve had then flashed her a smile that would have lit up all of Brooklyn on a blackout night and had kissed the life out of her before commenting on how that would be everything a man could ask for. Earning another blinding smile from Katie and a groan from Bucky who, as usual, had shown up from nowhere when he was least expected and headed for the kitchen mumbling something about being fed up of mushy remarks and having to get better ear plugs to avoid having to go to therapy.

This particular Saturday morning, Katie was slumped over the breakfast bar in the kitchen, suffering from the mother of all hangovers after returning from Pepper’s bachelorette party in the small hours. And she was whimpering like a dog when Steve slid a plate of toast and an orange juice over to her.

"You need to eat something, doll."

"Trust me, I really don’t." she said, her voice muffled by the arm that was supporting her head.

Steve was trying to be sympathetic, he really was, but he was also having a hard time simply keeping himself from laughing. Frankly, the whole scene was hilarious. She had been in a right state when she had got home and he’d had to put her to bed once she had finished puking and he had arrested and cuffed her pumps for murdering her feet as per Katie’s request. So he let out a soft chuckle and she groaned as she squinted up at him.

"You know, it’s so not fair." she said blinking at the kitchen lights which felt like piercing her eyes.

"What isn’t?" Steve asked as he poured himself some coffee.

"I came home looking like a raccoon with my make-up smeared all over…and you…" she said as she waved her hand up and down his body "you still looked gorgeous even with that black eye."

"I’m surprised you can remember anything about what you or I looked like last night."

"When I go get my eyelashes done, remind me to take a photo of yours to show the beauty therapist what I want." she continued her ramblings ignoring his comment just before her head fell back on her arms.

Steve watched her and snorted.

"Don’t laugh at me." she whined, her voice once again muffled by her arms.

"I’m not. I’m trying to decide whether you’re still drunk or hungover." he said while he took a seat on the stool next to her.

"Trust me, this is 100% hangover…" she said peeking up at him. “How are you not even remotely ill?"

Steve rolled his eyes as if the answer couldn't have been any simpler. “I didn’t drink enough to be hungover. I know my limits."

"Hmmm yeah, not enough to avoid getting into a bar brawl." And just as she said it her eyes flicked to the bruise along his left cheekbone and eye socket. She sat up to trail her fingers gently over it. "You gonna tell me the full story about what happened?"

"I already told you before Doll, it was some drunken punk in a bar picking a fight. I had to put him in his place, that’s all."

"Yeah, and he put your eye in a dark place from the looks of it." she jabbed at him.

"Trust me, he ended up far worse."

Steve saw her watching him and he tried to hold her gaze as best he could, working on keeping his face straight. But it was proving hard work seeing as he was the worst of liars, he always had been. For a moment he thought she was gonna argue but she didn’t, whether she believed him or was simply too hungover to bother pulling him up on it he had no idea. He was just grateful she didn't.

"Sure he did. Anyway, what are you and your black eye doing today?" she asked.

"I’m on groomsman duty, my suit was a little short last time I tried it on so Tony wants to make sure it fits.” He replied, thankful of the change of subject, trying to sound as casual as possible, when a sudden idea came to him. “Hey, how about we head to Ma’s for lunch? I can meet you there? That is if you feel better later. You got anything else planned, baby?"

Katie reached for the orange juice before answering "Yeah, lying on the couch waiting for death to come and take me."

Steve chuckled and leaned over to press a gentle kiss to her temple but he saw her flinch as Bucky made his accustomed loud entrance in the kitchen.

"Hey doll face..." he trailed off as he looked at her, taking in her appearance and then snorted."Yikes, not looking very doll face today."

"Die Barnes" she bit back at him.

"Gladly Stark, but before I leave this world remember you promised to help me find my suit for your brother’s wedding today." Bucky informed her, a side smile on his face and his arms crossed over his chest.

Katie then stilled "That was today?" she asked with a croaky voice.

"Yup." Bucky said and headed to the fridge to fetch some milk. "And seeing as his wedding is next week we are running out of time."

"Fuck my life." Katie groaned as Bucky poured some cereal into a bowl. "Can’t you ask anyone else? My head is killing me and I can’t feel my feet thanks to being in those ridiculous heels all night…"

"Not happening." Bucky shook his head. "Sam has some reports to finish today, but says he will join us later, and I need a woman’s advice."

"Well I don’t feel like being a woman today, Buck. Have some mercy." she said in a pleading tone, earning a chuckle from Steve who was amusingly watching the interaction while he munched his breakfast.

"Maybe I would if you hadn’t sent me the video of the stripper." Bucky took the big guns out.

Suddenly Steve spluttered on his coffee "What?"

"I thought you might enjoy it." she shrugged. "Anyway, I only did that because it was that Gemini Flannagan dude you told me about."

"Gemini Flannagan…huh, no shit?" Steve said as he dried a few coffee drops that had landed on the breakfast bar with a paper towel.

"Wanna see?" Bucky asked him with a grin.

"No, why the fuck would I want to see that?" Steve frowned, visibly disgusted.

"Because in the background to all the thrusting and gyrating dearest Gemini is doing, there’s a very interesting conversation going on between your lovely girl here and Natasha where Stark is clearly saying, and I’m paraphrasing here, that his cock is nothing to write home about because yours is bigger."

At that point Katie could only groan and hide her head in her hands.

But Bucky continued as he was having a ball "... and for the record, punk, if that’s true, I don’t know how you stand up straight." And just like that he took a spoonful of cereal and watched the pair of them.

Steve was sure he was flushing, he could feel his ears and neck burning but he was also a bit smug, well ok, not a bit, he was full on smug. That most certainly was not a bad thing for his girl to be crowing about…

And then it suddenly hit him what Bucky had said.

"Hang on…he was naked? Like…did he strip?” Katie rolled her eyes and Bucky smiled at Steve's naivety "Clue's in the name…STRIPPER. Duh." she said.

“Like he was completely naked?”

“Well not completely, no.” Katie said, “He had this little leather thong pouch type thing covering his, crotch, but it was tight enough not to leave anything to the imagination.”

"You know, if you ever get tired of chasing bad guys there’s a gig there. You already have the uniform." Bucky told his friend as he munched his cereal.

Steve, who was now bright red, tilted his head at him. "Buck, just don’t."

Bucky smiled and decided to let it go but then he saw Katie looking at Steve and a wicked smile flicked across her face.

"Can you strip for me, Captain?" she asked suggestively.

Steve groaned and stood up, still flushing. "Just eat your toast and take a painkiller. I’m going for a shower."

"I love it when you put on your Captain's voice…" she purred, which did nothing to stop Steve’s blush, quite the contrary. And he rolled his eyes, trying to maintain a straight face as she continued "Are you stripping to get in the shower, Captain?"

Bucky laughed loudly as Steve sighed and looked him. "Keep her out of trouble, punk." He ordered.

"I’m not some mischief making teenager, Steve." she protested.

"Then stop acting like one." Steve said sternly, hands on his hips and it didn’t pass him by that he was really adopting his Captain stance.

"Says the man with the black eye." she glared at him and Bucky sniggered.

"I’m going for a shower now. Behave with uncle Bucky sweetheart." he said, winking an eye at her. And as he turned to leave Katie threw the toast from her plate at him but missed completely and it ended up on the kitchen's floor by the door.

"Fuck you, Rogers." she shouted in frustration.

They heard Steve's laughter die down as the bathroom door shut.

"We don’t play with food, little miss." Bucky mock scolded Katie as he picked the toast up off the floor.

"You can piss off too."

Bucky laughed, now she was being a brat. "Sorry, but you’re cute when you’re angry and hungover."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" she frowned at him.

"A James Buchanan Barnes original, yes."

"Well, given how I look and feel this morning, I’ll take it." She breathed in and nodded behind him. "Pass me the Advil, will ya Buck?"

"Sure, doll face." he said as he reached into the cupboard over the sink and tossed the packet down on the breakfast bar. "Take a few, I need you at your best this morning."

"Just my luck." she said, taking the painkillers from the packet.

Bucky chuckled and poured himself a coffee. "Blame your brother, if he had chosen me as a groomsman, I’d have my suit sorted now."

Katie snorted and tossed the pills into her mouth, taking a gulp of orange juice and swallowing.

"I mean, I get why Rhodes is his best man, like they’ve been friends forever but Rogers, Wilson and Banner as ushers, really? What about me?"

Katie looked at him "You really don’t want me to answer that, do you?"

"What you trying to say?" Bucky asked, not understanding why his question was so odd.

"Brucie and Sam are his closest friends at work and Steve’s…"

"The guy fucking his sister." he cut her off.

Katie narrowed her eyes "I was gonna say his Captain, ass hole."

Bucky simply grinned at her over his coffee mug. He loved their little bickering moments.

***** Steve pulled up outside Tony’s and headed up to the door of the large brownstone terraced house. He sighed as he rang the bell. He had been sure about this but now he didn't know if he was anymore. Anyways, he was already there and he'd better roll with it.

"Oh hey Rogers, wasn’t expecting you." Tony greeted him as he opened the door.

"Hi Tony."

"Eurgh, that black eye looks worse now than it did last night. What did Katie say?" he said pointing at Steve's face

"Nothing much. I told her it was just some drunken ass hole causing a scene. She doesn’t need to know anything else." he shrugged.

Tony arched an eyebrow at him "Ooh, Captain straight lace telling lies."

"It’s not a lie, just not the whole truth." Steve explained with a smile.

He had begun to take a liking at Tony's teasing, as long as it wasn't too personal that is. But he had to concede since they had rescued Katie from Rumlow the scientist had toned down his little jabs at the Captain.

"Whatever, your funeral when she finds out." Tony brushed Steve's explanations off with a wave of his hand. "And speaking of my sister, where is she?"

"Shopping with Bucky…complete with one hell of a hangover."

"Yeah Pepper ain't much better. Made her one of my miracle beverages. Looked worse on the way back up, which is saying something…Come on in."

Tony stepped back and let Steve into the tiled hallway, shutting the door behind him. He led the way, taking him through to the kitchen and Steve caught a glimpse of the living room when they stopped at the door.

"Pepper's on the sofa... dying. Probably best we leave her to it." Tony explained when he saw Steve was looking in her direction.

Steve smiled and nodded as Tony looked at him. "So Kiddo is shopping with a hangover? Bet she loved that." he scoffed.

"Well, you know her…never one to let someone down when she’s promised something. Bucky needs a suit for the wedding so…"

"Oh, shit, yeah…er…let me warn you, I was in the middle of a thing with our wedding planner."

Steve paused and turned to face him, raising an eyebrow "What do you mean?"

Tony had never been one for warnings, he just let people draw conclusions by allowing them to dive in head first. He just sat back and enjoyed the ride.

"You’ll see." Tony said before heading into the kitchen.

Steve frowned, there was not a spark of wickedness in Tony's brown eyes when he uttered those words as he would have expected. Instead Steve could feel the exasperation in his voice.

"Steve this is Grandmaster, our wedding planner. Grandmaster this is Steve Rogers, my sister’s boyfriend."

Steve looked at Tony, mouthing Grandmaster? What kind of fucking name was that? he thought. Tony didn't bother answering. Instead, he merely took out his glasses and rolled his eyes, a gesture Steve knew only too well to mean ‘don’t ask’ as it was identical to the one Katie made.

"Nice to meet you, Steve Rogers…you’re a lucky man." the man suddenly spoke.

"Sorry, I’m not…I don’t…what?" Steve was utterly confused and finished a little lamely. His brain was having a hard time registering the wedding planner's flamboyant appearance. He was wearing a sparkly golden jacket even Bucky would have sworn off in the 80s. But his greying spiky hair and blue eyeliner combination was what had Steve floundering for words. Then, what the man had said registered and he frowned. “Lucky man?”

"Your girlfriend, Tony’s sister, I met her at the dress fitting a few weeks ago. She’s an exquisite little thing." Grandmaster explained softly.

"Oh, err, yeah… yes she is. Thank you.”

Steve saw Grandmaster bat his eyelashes at him as if to acknowledge his words. He looked at Tony once more, utterly dumbfounded. Tony simply shook his head in a just roll with it gesture and Steve suddenly realised exactly why Tony had issued a warning.

He then looked at the large table which was adorned with bits of paper, one of which looked like a seating plan, and suddenly he felt like he was intruding.

"Look, if this is a bad time I can come back…"

"Oh, no, Anthony and I were just discussing the brunch…" Grandmaster explained and grinned at Tony.

"For the last time, it’s a Reception, idiot." Tony hissed.

"No, can you…you know I don’t like that word." Grandmaster shook his head, cringing.

"What? Idiot."

"No, the…why would I not like the word idiot? I mean the R word."

Steve stood there, watching the exchange between the two men, his mouth hanging open in confusion. That Greatmaster was certainly a greater piece of work than Tony, which was saying something. Or was it Grandmaster? Whatever...

Tony let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It’s not a brunch, it's an afternoon... you know what? Fine. The post wedding meal."

"Ok, better." Grandmaster grinned again at him.

Steve now understood why Tony had done nothing but moan about this guy for the last few months. He was clearly a fucking sandwich short of a full picnic.

"As for the seating…just do whatever. I don’t much care." Tony conceded, visibly fed up. There's only so much a man can take after all.

"Alright, seeing as Miss Potter is not available, I’ll work on this later and email it over." the man agreed.

"It’s Miss Potts." Tony practically growled and Steve could see he was about to lose it.

"She’s more open to my ideas than you are Anthony." the wedding planner observed, not in the least fazed by his client's angry tone.

Tony stared at him, blinking. His mouth hanging slightly open in a look Steve had seen only a handful of times before, when something had rendered him speechless, which was no mean feat, before the scientist took a deep sigh.

"Whatever."

And just like that Grandmaster moved graciously around the table. Steve watched him as he gathered his papers up and popped them into a leather briefcase. He then fastened it with a click and looked at Tony.

"By the way, it smells in here…burnt toast I think.”

"Yeah, well I like my bread well done." Tony's voice was deadpan and Steve snorted as Grandmaster nodded with a smile. The guy had no idea Tony was literally making fun of him to his face.

"Alright, guess I’ll be leaving now. Bye, Anthony. Nice to meet you Mr Stevenson."

Steve's brain had not quite registered the man's name mixed-up when he heard Tony hiss through gritted teeth "It’s Rogers." He was literally lost for words. So when Grandmaster left the room Tony looked at him.

"Don’t mind him, took him some time until he stopped calling me Mr Starch. That’s why I don’t rip his tongue out for calling me Anthony."

"Yeah erm…where on Earth did you find him?"

“I’m not actually sure he’s from Earth.” Tony mumbled before he shook his head. “He was some acquaintance of Banner. Thor knew him too. He runs a company called Sakaar. They deal with events planning. And orgies, apparently." Tony explained, rubbing his temples.

Steve thought Tony had aged a decade in the ten minutes he had been dealing with his wedding planner and gave them a sympathetic smile just before his brain registered the last part. "What?"

"Don’t ask." Tony said before clapping his hands together. "Anyway, what can I do for you, Cap? You want a coffee or…?

"No thanks, I’m good." Steve cleared his throat. With all the Grandmaster dude shenanigans he had forgotten the real purpose of his visit and suddenly he could feel his palms were sweaty with nerves. "I... err... wanted to talk to you alone. There’s this thing I’ve been meaning to ask you…"

Tony arched his eyebrow. "Me?"

"Yes." Steve replied way too fast. "I mean, I wanted to ask you before I ask her…"

"Her? Are you talking about Katie?"

Steve lowered his head and sighed "Yes."

"Oh, I see what’s going on." Tony said leaning against the counter, folding his arms.

"You do?" Steve asked, lifting his head up and looking at him shyly.

"No thanks to you, you’re a mess Rogers." Tony said, a gentle smile curling on his lips. "Come with me."

Steve frowned before following him "Tony, I…"

"Trust me, I have something to show you." Tony stopped and turned to look at him with a soft smile.

Steve took a breath and followed him. They headed down the hall then up the stairs and into Tony's study. Once there Steve saw Tony sit on his desk chair and begin tapping on the keyboard. Just as the screen sprang to life Tony explained. "See dad had a thing for recording videos, kind of like pep talks for the future." He pressed a few buttons more and moved the mouse before continuing. "After the one he recorded for that old journalist Mr Lee, well it got me thinking there had to be more. So I started searching through his old archives and among other things, I found something I think you’ll find interesting."

Steve frowned "What do you mean?"

Tony looked at him for an instant before looking back at the screen and smiled as he selected a file. "Lets just say my dear old pop was a visionary…"

Steve looked at him, he had no idea what the fuck was going on. Tony stood up and motioned for Steve to take his place on the desk chair

"Just watch this, then you can ask me what you wanted to ask me."

He leaned over Steve to click another button and the screen suddenly displayed Howard, perched on his desk, scotch in hand. Steve felt a shiver running down his spine.

"Is this thing rolling?" Howard asked the person behind the camera as he swirled his glass around.

"Yeah, it’s on…" a voice from off screen confirmed.

"Alright…" Howard took a swig of scotch and cleared his throat. "Tony…congratulations on being the only person I know who is nosey enough and clever enough to crack into my archives…anyway, if you’re watching this it means something has happened to me before I got the chance to tell you all this in person so…."

Steve watched as Tony pressed a key to fast forward the recording a bit, he was winding to find something, before he stopped and the screen showed Howard giving a chuckle and taking another mouth of scotch.

"So yeah, there’s always a secret door." he said before taking a deep breath. "Now I want you to show this next bit to Rogers."

Steve’s eyes widened and he felt his heart start beating fast.

"Steve, you’re like a second son to me, you know that. I hope you’re doing well. I have no doubt you’ve made Captain by now, possibly even Commissioner, depending on how old this recording is. Not too old I hope. Anyway, I digress. I’m willing to bet you’ve cracked a few big cases too."

Steve gulped as he watched his old mentor continue to talk to him through the screen. He couldn't even tear his eyes from the screen to see Tony's reaction.

"Good job son. Now, onto something far more important to me. I hope you and my princess have realised by now you’re made for each other, because I already know you are."

Steve’s breath caught in his throat, his heart was now pounding.

"So if you’re watching this, and you’ve finally figured that out, then I’m giving you my blessing son. If you haven’t figured it out, then you’re a pair of dumbasses." Howard groaned at the last part and Steve gave a soft snort of laughter, shaking his head. "I’d be over the moon knowing you two have finally realised what has been in front of you for the past god knows how long."

"10 fucking years…" Tony mumbled from where he was leaning against a bookcase behind Steve, arms crossed and his right hand covering his mouth and jaw.

Howard then swallowed a little and wiped at his eye as he looked down at his feet taking a deep breath, clearly emotional, before he looked back up.

"Just look after her, treat her well and make her happy. I’m trusting you with one of my most treasured accomplishments son. And I only wish I could be there to walk her down the aisle to hand her over to the person I’d trust her with over anyone." Howard smiled and then thought about something a moment before he continued. “Just don’t try to understand her.” Howard shrugged “Because the minute you think you know what’s going on inside a woman’s head is the moment you’re goose is cooked.”

At that he sat up straight, slipping back into the Howard Steve knew all too well and looked at the camera.

"Ok, you can stop that thing now…" Steve heard him say before the screen went blank.

The room fell silent and Steve swallowed, trying to digest what he had just seen. The lump in his throat felt like a damned golf ball. Seeing his old mentor, his girl’s dad like that, in such an unguarded way had really made him emotional. When he recovered a bit he turned to look at Tony, who was in turn looking at him, and saw his eyes were misting over slightly. "What was it you wanted to ask?"

Steve chuckled "You still gonna make me say it?"

"Humour me Rogers, I like to see you squirm." Tony teased him, regaining his composure.

Steve took a deep breath before speaking, hoping his voice would come out as steady as possible given the circumstances.

"Tony, I’m gonna ask Katie to marry me. And it would mean the world to me, if I had your blessing."

Tony smiled and looked at his feet before he glanced back up "Then you got it, Steve."

Steve felt a feeling of relief wash over him, the fact he had used his name, for the first time in years, and not some stupid nickname didn’t pass him by. He smiled widely as Tony extended his hand, before he pulled him into a brotherly hug.

“Scotch?” Tony asked him as he pulled back.

Steve nodded, smiling widely. "Absolutely."

CONTINUED IN PART 2

#csi rogers and barnes #csi au #steve rogers #steve rogers x original female character #katie stark

44 notes · View notes

onisiondrama · 3 years

Photo

(Note: I’m not repeating stories he’s told before and just putting them in parenthesis. I have a lot more videos to go until I’m caught up so that would save me a lot of time. If he gives details I never heard from him before, I will type those.)

“Is Onision A Dad? (+ Story With Onision's Father)“ October 12, 2020 Speaks

James says in the past he’s said he’ll never talk about being a father because the internet is crazy. They called CPS on them 3 or 4 times and every time CPS found that they were really good parents. They are responsible, take care of their kids, show them compassion, don’t hit them, listen to them, hug them when they cry, and you try to give them a better childhood than you had.

(Allegations against his father)

Says his childhood was not awful, but it lacked a lot. He did not have a male role model to look up to that was consistent in his life. He believes most of his problems comes from his childhood.

When he thinks about raising another human being, he thinks it’s important to give them a structurally sound environment so they don’t have an excuse to wind up damaged by something not beyond his control.

Says he was watching Christopher Titus talk about children and he said every parent he talked to regretted having kids. James asks if they knew what they signed up for? He says of course they’ll cry and you’ll have to spend a lot of money feeding them. They’re a financial burden and they’re going to cost you you’re time. That’s your responsibility. His mind is blown that they’re acting like parenthood is a curse.

Says he had a nephew who broke his femur and he was like “how could you let that happen? That’s insane. You must have been so neglectful.” His cousin told him, “just wait.” He says it was kind of like his cousin cursed him. (His found his daughter after she fell out of a 2nd story window story.)

He says he feels like a failure in keeping his child safe. If he could go back, he would have not worked so late that night. He still works a lot to pay the bills. When he found her, he thought she was not going to survive, but once the doctor told him the details he knew she would be fine.

He says he refers to himself as “Dr. James” because of instances like (he refused exploratory surgery for his son story.) He says his common sense was more than the doctor’s 18 years of medical training. If you disagree with him, your conclusion results in a child pointlessly cut open. Says it’s horrifying some doctors do this, but it’s reality.

(Refused down syndrome test story.) He says even if their child had down syndrome, it was past the point of pregnancy termination and they would have not wanted to terminate because people with down syndrome deserve love and to be raised. He says he’s a very virtuous person with common decencies. He asked what the point of the test was if it was too late to terminate? She told them it’s for peace of mind. He says he lost it and went full rant on the two women who were trying to potentially kill their baby with a needle. Their kid doesn’t have down syndrome, but if he did they would still take photos of him playing in the park like all other parents do.

He says one of the leading causes of death in our country is medical error. He says that’s because it’s un-natural and you’re cutting people open. Scalps don’t grow on trees. It’s helpful if you have cancer, but if you don’t know what’s going on you should step back and take a breath.

(More of the rash / refuse surgery story. He keeps name-dropping the doctor and where he worked.) He concludes he’s a very protective father. He says his life is nothing compared to theirs. He exists to make their lives better.

He says when they got to the new hospital their new doctor was Asian. He has a natural assumption that Asian doctors are more balanced and smart. Doctor says it was a rash. (He smacks his deck and stares at the camera.) He says people online gaslight him and question his intelligence, but when he makes decisions they benefit people. In this instance he saved his son from an unnecessary surgery. He was so glad he was there because Kai isn’t the type of person to throw down. Kai would have let them put in that needle and potentially kill his kid. Kai would have been walked all over by the doctor and let the explorative surgery happen. Says he fought for his kid and he won and his son is better for it. Says full disclosure, from that point on he looked at his kid as a drama queen. He was screaming so much over a rash they went to the ER and they almost did surgery on him. He didn’t say this to his son, but he was thinking it.

James says when he had his first kid, Kai was part of a mom group. People were talking about getting divorced. Kai told him 8 or 9 out of 10 people get a divorce after having a kid. He says having a kid isn’t that stressful. It strengthened their bond when they had one. People came and went who tried to ruin their marriage and they all failed at homewrecking. It’s difficult get him to leave his family when he loves his kids. If his life is inferior to his kids, why would his love life be superior. He says people approach them and try to get him to leave Kai or Kai to leave him and they haven’t been successful so far. They have a foundation built on loyalty to their kids. It’s programed into people, but some people don’t have it. Like his father, he had the opposite. According to an article he tried to sue James, but couldn’t because James never said his name. James says he remembers saying his name so if he wants to sue him down the line, that says who he is as a parent.

(His mom tried to sue to see his kids story.) He says his mom called Kai a “tranny” and said he was invalid because he came out in his 20′s and breastfeeds. He says Kai breastfed because the kids need milk, but he plans on getting top surgery once they don’t need it anymore. One of the kids still breastfeeds. His mom refused to date a guy because he slept with a man before. She said he was attractive and she really liked him, but she wouldn’t date him. He says she’s phobic on every level and she lies to his face.

He wants to be honest and accepting with his kids. He wouldn’t call their spouse what she called Kai. Kai was crying about it and his mom said “good. I’m glad he’s crying.” (he’s doing a texting gesture while he’s quoting her.) He asked his mom about Caitlyn Jenner. His mom wouldn’t say anything ill about Caitlyn Jenner, but still attacked Kai. He thought it was mean because he gave her a house for free. He tried to buy it back and she wouldn’t let him even though she previously said she would give it back for free. Says there’s a lot of bad blood with his parents. If his kid ever gave him a house he would be grateful. He says his mom could visit his kids, but he didn’t want her driving them around because she does drugs.

He says this all reflects on their parenting. His mother-in-law asked if she could drink wine while watching their son when he was a very young baby. He said no. He holds everyone to the same standards. He kicked people out of their life for lying and doing drugs. They went on Hansen and acted like he was a monster. No one gives him compassion for that, he was protecting his kids from drugs. The internet believed the drug addict, criminal, liars.

He doesn’t put anyone over his status as a parent. He says lots of families experience tragedies. He saw a 10 year old that was playing with other kids at a family event. The next family event he found out he was dead. He drowned in a pool or a river. He didn’t think the parents were incompetent, he thought it was a horrible tragedy. He immediately thought their pain must be so severe.

He has a cousin whose kid was on a feeding schedule and the kid was bawling for breastmilk. He thought that was insane. The baby is crying because they need to be fed. The most basic of common sense. The baby died of SIDS. He doesn’t know if it’s related, but as a parent you can’t think you screwed up and hate yourself forever. He says if a kid drowned while the mom was shooting up heroin, that’s clear incompetence. If he was voting or paying his taxes when something happened, you can’t say he’s a monster. You can say he was in the wrong place and that sucks, even if he was 10 feet away. It’s awful and you’re not an innocent party because it could have been prevented, there’s that guilt. There was something very specific you’re supposed to do and it seems your kid starved to death or was nutrient deficient. When they went to the funeral, she talked about how Jesus had a plan and taking care of the kid. He says he never heard her talk about religion in his life. It’s just a scapegoat to make people feel better and so they can live with themselves.

He doesn’t know how he knew his kid was outside when she fell. He still doesn’t know what that metal scraping sound that sounded like a toy car on the garage door. His daughter was a few feet away and couldn’t even reach the door. She barely made any noise. He was so lucky he had his headphones off at that specific time. When you survive a tragedy, you don’t feel woe is me. You say thank god we survived that. He’s not going to sit here and say it was part of some plan. He thinks god or angels are more of a clean up crew than a protector. He thinks god can only influence how to fix it or help. What kind of god lets the holocaust happen and give an 8 year old cancer? He thinks there are subtle miracles.

Says we are programed to love our own unconditionally. If your kid stabbed you in the chest, you ask what you did wrong for them to do that. You don’t blame your kids. There may have been a chemical imbalance, but you have to blame yourself. When he sees his kids he sees a smaller version of himself and it scares him. He sees the vulnerability and how many scary things can ruin his life or her life.

He thinks about how he was abandoned as a kid by his dad and his perversions. His dad didn’t try to apologize to the people he hurt or work it out with his mom. He said I’m fine the way I am and screw my family. He blamed everyone and didn’t take responsibility. When his uncle threatened his dad if he came near the family, his dad said he would do the same thing so he knows how bad he is. Instead of talking to his son, he went to a newspaper. Three victims were abused by him. He loves himself more than his kids.

He says they found out his father had a child out of wedlock. He’s the father to a Somoan woman who is much bigger than he is. He says it looks really silly and they don’t look alike. His father didn’t tell them about his other family. 3 of 4 of his kids don’t talk to his father anymore.

A lot of parents only think of themselves and their ego. He thinks it’s a suicide prevention mechanism. When you’re awful, the species programs you to justify your existence.

(Beat up his dad story) He says that, speeding on the highway, and running a red at 2 am are the only crimes he’s committed. He got pulled over for running the red on his way to Tinker Air Force Base and paid a fine.

He doesn’t understand why people think having kids is a burden. He doesn’t understand why people go against their programing. He doesn’t have a mom or dad who loves him unconditionally. He gave his mom a house and she still doesn’t have unconditional love for him.

He wants to lead by example and share his stories. He think he’s at the point of surpassing so many things and up t this point he already gave his kids a better life than he had. They were never hit like he was as a child. They don’t have a stepdad that makes them pray “I love you satan” to the TV, or does drugs around them, or tape a dead duck to a dog’s neck, or shoots that dog for attacking a child. They don’t have a mom that forces you to round up your geese to be sold for potential slaughter because doesn’t agree with you having them and she doesn’t want to take care of them.

He says he might be hated by his young one day because the standard now is probably low. The mistakes he makes, they might grow to say they’ll be better than their father. Then their kids, etc.

If you regret having your kids, you need therapy. You’re going to set them on a path for only caring about themselves. You have to teach your kids to be kind to animals, kind to each other, respectful of people they love. He knows people who had healthy, functional parents and they turned out to be the coolest people. He is painfully damaged as a human being because of what he went through as a child.

You signed up for having kids, so act like it. They’re not a burden or curse. They’re a gift. When you have kids, you’re going to feel love and happiness like you never felt in your whole life. Your view of the world changes and you realize what you did in your life up to that point was meaningless.

He says he’s going to try to only upload new videos once his other videos hit a certain amount of views so he can focus on other things. He doesn’t want to invest in a sinking ship.

He says don’t buy people houses because they won’t appreciate it. You’ll just dump a quarter of a million dollars and they’ll just roll their eyes. He says he used to have a fantasy of buying everyone in his family a new house or pay off their mortgage when he made it big on Youtube. His mom destroyed that fantasy. He gives, but never stopped to think what have they given you? A lot of people who complained about him publicly were given tens of thousands of dollars of stuff by him.

He has a friend, McFly, who always shows up to his Twitch streams and gives him tons of bits. In return, he bought her a $50 gift certificate for a video game and a couple other games at other points. She also gave him a costume. That’s what real friends are.

He hopes you learned a lot from this video.

7 notes · View notes

madewithbangtan · 4 years

Text

Arranged marriage

Taehyung FF. Yandere!Taehyung Angst with Fluff.

Warning: contains Angst

Y/F/N - Your Full Name

Drabble list

Marriage, something beautiful, something so pure, a day filled with love and happiness and yet, you sat and cried.

Kim Taehyung, he was a beautiful man, one you’d only dreamed to marry, yet the person you dream about is always so different to the person you really love.

He had everything, he had all the money a person could ask for, he had an empire that he built from the bottom, yet he didn’t have one thing he longed to have, you.

He stood in front of the mirror in the dressing room and smiled, soon you’d be his, soon you’d see how happy you make him, sure, maybe a little return of feelings would be much appreciated by him but he knew not to push his luck.

You stood as the lady who’d be holding your wedding gown from behind said it was time for you to start making your way towards the alter. You bunched up your heart or whatever was left of it and headed towards the large wooden door.

As the door opened and you entered, it looked like something you had only dreamed of, of course he knew you’d like something like this, he always knew. You lifted your head from the red carpet that you’d been following looking towards the alter where the man you’d soon call your husband was standing, did you even love him? No one questioned and no one answered.

Half way through you walking towards the alter, you saw your ex lover standing right in front of you, perhaps he was sad to see you walk to another man, perhaps he was happy that his life was no longer on the line, perhaps it was both. You smiled bitterly, you knew there was no escape anymore.

As you reached the alter and he hurried the priest along to continue the ceremony, you couldn’t help but notice the single tear that fell onto your cheeks, did you love him? No one asked and no one answered. If they dared question your love for him in front of him, he’d have them killed for sure. You just stood there and cried, silently, knowing fully well no one would come to save you anymore.

Priest: “do you Kim Taehyung take Y/F/N as your lawfully wedded wife?”

V: “I do”

Priest: “do you Y/F/N take Kim Taehyung as your lawfully wedded husband?” You stood there, will no one help you? Will not even your parents try to save you. As you tried to look towards them for help, he pulled your chin towards him, making you face him.

V: “Princess, don’t drag this out, they won’t save you anymore, they’ve already sold you to me. Now you only have me remember?” You nodded afraid what he’d do if you didn’t answer him. Not even the priest could help you not even God.

Y/n: “I...I do” you hesitated.

Priest: “The groom may now kiss the bride.” He made his way towards you, holding you in his grasp, surprisingly he didn’t kiss you, instead held you close, almost desperate to be loved back the way he loved you so dearly.

V: “I won’t do anything that princess doesn’t want me to do anymore, after all, this is all I’ve ever wanted” you hesitated a little, still stiff as a board in his hug, but for some reason, you felt at home in his embrace causing you to melt into his touch.

The days after the wedding went by as normal, as he promised he didn’t push himself onto you nor did he lock you in his basement. But you didn’t really resist him either, all you did was sleep, wake up and sleep some more. So as usual you woke up from your slumber and walked into your kitchen, your throat screaming at you to get at least a drop of water in your system. What is the point? You asked, but before you could drift off into this thought any longer, you heard a weird groan from the corner of your living room.

You not being the type to investigate just walked to your room and locked the door, there was no way someone was in the house, Taehyung was not the type to let that kind of thing happen, but then what was groaning?

You decided after a few minutes that it was a good idea to try and call him to see if he knew what it was.

V: “Hello? What’s wrong princess? Why did you call me all of a sudden? Is something wrong?” Before you could even open your mouth he had already sensed something was off, how he did it? You really didn’t know.

Y/n: “Ummm I don’t really want to bother you but, there’s a weird groaning noise coming from the living room, and I don’t want to go out and see what it is” you heard him sigh on the other end, you’d never thought he’d be angry? No more like irritated at you, you instantly retracted and started distancing yourself from him once again. You didn’t really know how dangerous or not dangerous this man was yet, heck you didn’t even know how old he was until you heard one of the maids talk about him.

Y/n: “You know what nevermind, ill just go and che.. EEKK” before you or he could say anything else, you heard a loud thud against the door, just your luck that Taehyung decided today was a good day to let everyone that worked in the house have a day off.

As soon as he heard your whispered shriek he was already making his way to the house

V: “Hang on princess I’m coming, okay?” Before he got a response the line cut, he was now worried out of his mind, what if someone didn’t like the fact that he now had a wife and decided to kill you.

As he pulled up to the house, he saw how the front door was slightly open, he was now really worried.

V: “y/n? Where are you?” You knew you heard him, but you were too scared to move, the flashback of when you were kidnapped as a small child replaying in your mind, you hated this feeling, feeling so small yet not being able to do anything about it other than cry. You just sat there and cried while he made his way through the whole house frantically searching for you. Your small cries were loud enough for Tae to find you in the closet, rocking back and forth terrified out of your mind. The sight of you so scared killed him, the look of fright when he opened the doors pained him more than your loveless expression, he’d never ever hurt you, the way you looked at him made him want to ball up and explode. He didn’t really think much but to hug you until you felt safe again, he didn’t really care who or what was in the house, he just wanted you to stop looking at him like that.

Y/n: “I was... I was so scared, why are you so slow? I told you there was a weird noise, now look at what you did” you cried and cried while he whispered “I know” and “I’m sorry” while embracing you.

After a couple of minutes and you seemingly settling down a little, taehyung got up to investigate what that noise could’ve been, as he made his way to the living room, he had heard the groan, he turned towards the source of the noise. He relaxed when he realised it was a small kitten, he tilted his head a little while he walked towards the kitten and picked it up.

V: “was it really you that made all that noise? Gosh you scared my wife, almost to death” he said while he carried it towards the room you were in, he saw that the kitten must’ve knocked over the vase beside the door to your shared bedroom.

V: “Hey princess look, it’s just a cute little kitten, it was the vase this little guy knocked over don’t worry too much anymore okay?” He said as he sat beside you on the bed with the little thing still in his hands.

Y/n: “You sure? You really sure no ones here? What if this things a trap and there’s someone in here” you started to panic again.

V: “trust me there’s no one here, just this little bugger” he said, finding the situation somewhat amusing.

Y/n: “Why are you smiling? It’s not funny, I was terrified of that thing, why would you leave me in this mansion all alone? You said you loved me your a big fat liar” you said as you moved away from him, just about ready to leave him. You didn’t really know why you were so angry, you clearly said you didn’t love him, but then again, sometimes what he did could be dangerous and that did worry you. Or when he wasn’t able to make it home at night, you sometimes even thought about taking him fresh clothes, but you never actually did, you didn’t want to bother him.

His eyes lit up with happiness, the fact that you felt safe with him around rather than without made him want to jump to the moon. Or maybe it was just the way you looked at him at this very moment, he could live in it forever.

V: “Are you really that upset that I wasn’t with you all day?”

Y/n: “Of course I am, why would you leave me in this ghost house all by myse...” you stopped talking realising what you had just said. But before you could retaliate he pulled you into a loving embrace, one that made you awe, one that made you love him.

V: “It makes me so so happy that you, find security within me, I will never leave you all alone ever again, I’m really sorry.”

As you stayed like that a little longer, the kitten squeezed out from Taehyung and your embraced and walked towards the chair in the corner.

Chimmy the kitten: “well my work here is done, love and hope has been restored I guess?”

I’m sorry this is so late @taetaeobsessed sorry for the wait.

#bts #bts fluff #bts reaction #bts scenario #v #taehyung ff #taehyung yandere #v yandere #v fluff #bts v #taehyung drabble #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #bts drabble #v drabble

97 notes · View notes

illumose · 5 years

Text

nightmares [ yandere!jeon jungkook ]

genre : angst, light fluff ( if we can call it fluff ).

warning : toxic relationship, mention of death. triggering

author’s request : a yandere is mentally ill, this type of behavior is toxic and wrong.

Panting heavily, your eyes shot wide-opened. You tried to regulate your breathing, fearing that it could wake Jungkook up. It was another sleepless night, you got accustomed to the nightmares.

Every time you closed your eyes, you saw him, covered in blood. A wicked smile was plastered on his lips as your dead body was resting on the ground, a few inches from his feet. Jungkook was the reason of your night terrors.

You took a glimpse at his sleeping figure and slowly put the blanket aside. Your mouth was dry, you clearly needed a glass of water. As you entered the kitchen, you took a minute to actually breathe. Jungkook’s behaviour has gotten worse lately, he was even more possessive and aggressive. A little mistake would lead to a punishment, whether it was physical or psychological. He always found a new way to destroy you.

He broke you, completely. You complied to his every demand, even if it was humiliating or degrading. You feared him at a point that you made nightmares of him.

Before pouring yourself a glass of water, you admired the stars through the kitchen’s window. You did not have many occasions to be alone since Jungkook would always want to keep an eye on you.

"Y/n?" He called you out, probably awaken by the emptiness of your side of the bed. He has the habit of holding you by the waist during the night.

You prevented yourself from sighing, fearing that he might hear it. "In the kitchen." You replied in a hoarse voice, while pouring your glass of water.

Jungkook’s heavy footsteps rang out through the whole ground floor. He appeared in the door frame, topless. "What are you up to?" He asked, rubbing his eyes. He did not seem angry but annoyed.

"I was thirsty." You shrugged, hoping that he would let you go back to sleep, or at least, let you go back to the bed.

"It’s not the first time this week that you wake up in the middle of the night. What’s wrong?" He furrowed his eyebrows. You couldn’t guess whether he was suspicious or worried. Figuring out his emotions was probably the hardest you had to do.

"I had a n-nightmare." You avoided his gaze. It made you feel petite and vulnerable. He sighed, and approached you.

"About what?"

"Nothing." You weren’t going to tell him that he was the reason of your sleepless nights, it would only piss him off.

Of course, he did not believe you. He had the capacity to read you like an open book. You couldn’t lie to him, to your great dismay. "Don’t lie, baby. You know I hate liars." He warned you, taking a step in your direction. Soon, his body trapped you between him and the sink.

"Y-you. It was about you." You eventually confessed, fidgeting with the sleeve of your sleepwear.

"Me?" He said, confused. "What have I done, in your dreams?"

"I... see you, holding a knife. And on your feet, there’s my lifeless body. I keep seeing you killing me, and laughing hysterically. It terrifies me." You admitted while his hand lifted up your chin. Your eyes finally met his.

"Sweetheart, I would never do such a thing. I can be severe with you, but it’s for your own good. Perhaps I have been too harsh on you lately." He wondered if his last punishments weren’t too excessive. He knew that he had been kind of cruel and punitive. "I would never ever murder you, I love you too much for that. I guess that I could lessen my punishments for a moment. I don’t want you to hate me." He was being sincere. He wanted you to love him, because he knew that if you hated him, he wouldn’t have the perfect relationship that he had in his mind.

He embraced you and your head rested in the crook of his neck. His arms were wrapped around your small body. His attempt to calm you down and comfort you, and for a moment, you accepted his affection.

"I love you, to the moon and back. Behave and I’ll show you how romantic I can be." He whispered in your ear, his fingers trailing down your hips. He slowly kissed your neck.

"I love you too." You responded, almost automatically. You said exactly what he wanted you to reply, and he felt satisfied.

"Let’s cuddle a bit while watching a movie. You can pick it, for once." You nodded, as if you really had a choice.

#yandere bts #bts imagine #bts reaction #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts imagines #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook scenario #bts yandere

315 notes · View notes

chrischanseyelash · 5 years

Note

Hi! Can i request for a yandere (it doesn't have to be yandere if you prefer) bang chan reacting to seeing you do martial arts? Ty 💞

My Little Flower

Words: 1683

Authors Note: Hello lovely first requester! Sorry this took so long to write i just really wanted to get this right, I hope you love it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you had said that you were going to the gym Chris felt his stomach flip, when you trotted out of your shared bed room in nothing but a sports bra and a pair of very flattering leggings every single part of him started doing somersaults. Not that you would ever realise of course, he always made a point to keep thatside of himself concealed from you. To you Chan was just your head over heals,whipped to the nines perfectly crafted wonder boy, and to him you were but a delicateflower that he had to protect at all costs.

Chrisforced a smile, as genuine as he could muster. He set down his consolecontroller onto the coffee table in front of him and leaned forward in his seatresting his elbows on his thighs.

“you’rewearing make-up.” You looked up at Chris and away from your hoodie zip whichwas giving you hassle

“mmhm”you broke the eye contact and set to getting your drawstring bag securely onyour shoulders. Chan felt his jaw tense, she’scrossing a line Channie, she’s date bating to make you jealous. He clenchedhis eyes shut for a moment and then forced his smile back into place.

“tothe gym?” you finally actually looked at him. Your eyebrows were knotted andyour hands were folded across your chest.

“yeah?What about it” you said with an awkward half laugh. Shit dude sailing a bit close to the wind here.

Chrisstood up and took his keys from the coffee throwing them from one hand to theother before quickly adding “nothing you look pretty is all”. He closed thespace between you and placed a quick kiss to your cheek “c’mon ill drive youits dark out”

The drivethere was mostly silent, Chris had been right I was really dark out. The carpulled up outside the main entrance and he switched off the car.

“baby,you know you always look amazing right?” you blinked in surprise, its not thathe never complemented you because he always did, but this was a question not astatement “you don’t need to go to the gym, in fact you’re too pretty forexercise…” Chris trailed off stopping himself from saying more than he should. Youreached out with gentle hands and placed them to his cheeks soothingly rubbingyour thumb across his cheek bone.

“isthis because I was at work all day Channie?” you placed a soft kiss on the tipof his nose “I’ve got the whole day off tomorrow we’ll do what ever you wanteven if its just spending the whole day in bed yeah?” Chris couldn’t trust his voiceright now; a light blush was dusted across his nose and cheeks. To anyone elsethe small nod that he made would be completely unnoticeable but to you it wasclear as day. He reached up and placed one hand at the nape of your neck to pullyou to him. As your lips connected with his everything was still, like the air aroundyou two had stopped moving to admire the two of you. Reluctantly you had tomove away from Chan. everything shot back into rushing around him the instantyour lips were away from his. You gave him a small smile as you hopped out ofthe car, he watched as you put your head phones in and jogged up the stepsmaking sure you were safely inside before he switched the engine back on.

“awork out can’t take that long can it?” Chris spoke aloud to no one “it will beeven darker when she’s done. A good boyfriend would wait and bring her backhome.” As he decided he pulled out of the front entrance and into the car park,pulling up and turning the engine off. Chan sat half listening to whatever garbagewas prattling on on the radio, he caught a glimpse of himself in the rear-view mirror

“what do you think she’s doing up there?” it grinned down at him, and his eye brows furrowed “what shesaid she was doing, working out” the reflection chuckled “you really believe that? God you’re gullible. She’s probably gettingdicked down by some dude bro in a back room, you know that she’s a liar” Changround his teeth together “ I cant believe that you’re doing this now, after agood bye like that? you’re obsessed with the idea of her cheating on us” theexpression of the reflection staring back at him grew grim “if you’re so sure just go up and check onher, what if I’m wrong and she’s actually in danger, would you be able to livewith that Channie” Chris closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair“I can just sit here and trust her, shut up!” he opened his eyes to shout downwhat ever remark the reflection was going to spit out next but instead he wasmet with his with desperate expression. There was at least a good three secondpause before Chris sprang out of his car and ran up the front steps into thebuilding. Good boy.

“HEY!SIR YOU CAN’T GO UP THERE WITHOUT PAYING!” the receptionist at the front deskcalled out to him, Chris turned on his heals and painted an awkward smile onhis lips scratching the back of his neck.

“myuh girlfriend left her keys at my place” he held up his own car keys toconvince the receptionist of his lie “ill be in and out in 2 minutes, scouts honour”Chan let out a small laugh for good measure and the receptionist blushedslightly

“wellsh-shes a very lucky lady to have a boyfriend like you, g-go ahead, but ill betiming you mister!” she laughed, he smiled back and jogged up the rest of thestairs.

As Chan made it into the big work out hall, hebecame acutely aware of the lack of other women and the abundance of big menand weight machines, blood rushed in his ears almost drowning out the I told you so.

Chrisspotted you from the other side of the room talking to some guy who must havebeen twice your size at least, every thing began to stutter around him as hecame closer to the two of you, he could barely make out the words that werebeing shared between you and the stranger.

“onemore time before you have to go? Pretty please” you whined out to the man “whileI’ve still got the energy to beat you” you batted your eyelids at him and theguy let out a deep chuckle. Look at her shehas no shame, right here in front of all these people what a whore.

“mywife is gonna think I’m cheating on her y/n” he replied laughing slipping apair of kickboxing pads onto his hands.

Chanducked behind a wall to watch the two suspects without being seen, he watchedas you placed two solid kicks well above your shoulders onto the side of one ofthe pads the man had on his hands.

“fuckssake Charlie make it hard for me will you” you laughed. Chris watched a Charlieswiped his arm to try and contact the side of your head, you blocked him withyour forearm, grabbing onto his elbow pulling him towards you before using hisown weight to turn and push him to the floor. the two of you laughed out ofbreath and you extended a hand to help Charlie up “I’m convinced that you letme win these days” you grinned at him, he pulled of the gloves, took your handand smiled back,

“heyy/n I think you have a fan” he said pointing behind you after he pulled himselfto his feet. You spun around and craned your neck to see who was standingthere.

“Channie?”your whole face broke out into a massive grin “Channie what are you doing here?”you ran to him and wrapped your arms around Chris’ neck, lifting your legs intothe air when he hugged you back around your waist. You let him go and beamed upat him “sorry I’m all sweaty” the two of you laughed “what are you doing here?”

“I cameup to tell you I was waiting in the car park and not to get a taxi” your heartfluttered, what did you do to deserve him, Charlie cleared his throat behindyou.

“sorrywhere are my manners” you laughed again “Chris, Charlie. Charlie, Chris” Charlieextended his hand with a smile and Chan took it smiling back.

“itsnice to meet you I’m y/n’s personal trainer” he shook his hand firmly beforeletting it go “she talks about you a lot it’s good to put a face to the name ofthe distraction” Chan looked down to see you blushing slightly before chucklingback at him.

“youknow with just the little bit of chatter I overheard when I first came over, I thoughtI was gonna have to kill you.” You and Charlie laughed and Chris chuckled along.

“youhave nothing to worry about she not my type, way to high maintenance” the two ofyou laughed again and you lightly hit Charlie’s arm at what he had said. Chan forcedanother convincing chuckle.

“rememberwho your talking to mate” the three of you laughed again before char lie excusedhimself adding on the end that the four of us should go out for dinner sometime.

“I justneed to get my stuff and then I’m good to go okay?” Chan nodded in response

“I’llwait for you down and the front desk, I had to lie to a receptionist to get up here”you grew up on your tip toes and pace a quick peck on Channie’s lips beforeturning to leave

Chris was definitely going to hold you to your promise tomorrow, even if his littleflower did have thorns

198 notes · View notes

obiternihili · 5 years

Text

Ngo writes for the National Review and Quillette. Spins stories such as a hit and run into a group of BLM protestors as antifa attacking an old man. ( https://katu.com/news/local/driver-plows-through-protesters-in-downtown-portland | https://www.wsj.com/articles/a-leftist-mob-polices-portland-1539298766 ) . In the aftermath of that, right wing groups started protesting around Portland which led to what should be understood in democratic countries as normal outcomes of protest; groups A and anti-A arguing in the streets, occasionally breaking out into brawls in the same way drunks do in bars or sports fans do in parking lots. https://www.wweek.com/news/courts/2018/10/13/portland-streets-descend-into-bedlam-again-as-proud-boys-and-antifascists-maul-each-other/

And because apparently now “militant” means throwing a milkshake, despite the A groups being known for literally killing people, despite far-A groups being known for stockpiling weapons. An informal, completely unorganized aesthetic some informal counter-protestors with all the coordination of football brawlers get the militant label while the people they’re reacting to, people who nakedly want to overthrow democracy and commit human rights violations discriminating against and deporting a reasonable chunk of the country, despite being nakedly in bed with explicitly white nationalist groups and pushing their agenda, one gets the label militant and the other doesn’t. Gee, I wonder why?

At this point I’m largely going to plagiarize the article I’m using as a middle man. Sorry I just figure if I lead with the source instead of putting the text down as is you’d dismiss it instead of considering the fact that the article draws its information from such horrifically communist tabloids as “a local sinclair broadcaster” or “the wsj” “ It didn’t end there. The flash march created new viral moments. A video of a left-wing activist harassing a woman claiming to be a 9/11 widow was posted days later to The Daily Caller, which was cofounded by Tucker Carlson. (The woman appears to have lied about being a 9/11 widow.) Efforts to doxx the man hurling invective resulted in a professional skateboarder from Portland being falsely identified and inundated with death threats. Eventually the man in the video was identified, which started a new round of harassment. One source says the social service agency that fired him over the video “was flooded with hundreds of harassing calls and Facebook messages that were explicitly racist and threatening to harm and kill staff.”

Carlson credited Ngo with publicizing the videos. Ngo was a bit player, but the incident bolstered him. The incident was an example of a disturbing media model for the Trump era: opportunists using biased reporting, social media, and wild accusations inflame vigilante and digital mobs to target “enemies” such as the media, Democrats, and left-wing activists. Figures like Carlson and Ngo reap followers, prominence, and income from the outrage and threats of violence. But to keep the ratings and the money flowing, the outrage machine must be cranked ever louder, risking greater violence.

One political organizer in Portland who has received death threats stemming from Ngo’s work says, “It’s an arms race for money, and the narrative isn’t the point — the grift is. The larger, more offensive thing you can do, the system rewards it.”

This appears to be Ngo’s model. He uses social media to push biased opinions in conjunction with selectively edited videos that play to the bigotry of his audience. His followers get worked up, and this is often followed by a deluge of threats against his subject.

[source] has talked to six people in Portland, including journalists, political officials, and activists, who described harassing messages and threats of violence resulting from Ngo’s work or political involvement in Portland. Friends of two other activists claim they went into hiding after Ngo spread their names and they became targets of harassment. Some individuals who’ve tangled publicly with Ngo are reluctant to go on the record. They say they want to avoid the “trauma” of being subjected to a new round of death threats.

In fact, Ngo appears to rely on people not speaking up about his effect on them. He often writes of how activists won’t talk to him or they take down social media profiles after he focuses on them, seeming to imply they have something to hide. What he doesn’t mention is many say they are doing so to avoid harassment and threats of violence.

Madison, a Portland activist who tracks Ngo, says, “Ngo signals this is a person that should be targeted, should be harassed, and should be threatened. Andy puts a target on them and that results in the person being doxxed. Andy is giving people explicit permission to unleash hatred and violence on people. He absolutely knows what he is doing.”

Ngo is so intertwined with the specter of violence [writer I’m plagiarizing] encountered it after just a Facebook post. [writer I’m plagiarizing] wrote a post with the headline, “Andy Ngo is no journalist.” The post was shared by notorious right-wing figure, Carl Benjamin, aka, “Sargon of Akkad,” who has been featured on Ngo’s podcast and was banned from YouTube for repeatedly “joking” about raping a British Labour MP. In the comments on Benjamin’s post were calls for violence against [writer I’m plagiarizing], Antifa, and others. Within hours [writer I’m plagiarizing] started receiving threats directly, such as “You’re a bunch of retards and it will be a glorious day when you all are dealt with,” and “You are a disgraceful liar. If you or anyone of your ilk throws even a fucking tissue at me or my family watch what the fuck happens to your family lol.”

Now this model threatens to turn deadly. On June 29, Andy Ngo was attacked in Portland while videoing a Patriot Prayer rally heavily outnumbered by Antifa. A video shows him being punched, kicked, and hit with coconut milkshakes and silly string by masked individuals. Within minutes, videos of the attack and of a beaten Ngo narrating the incident were picked up by right-wing media such as Breitbart that have a dodgy relationship to facts. Headlines screaming brutal assault, vicious assault, and vicious attack by Antifa on Ngo were pumped out.

The sensationalism breached the mainstream with CNN’s Jake Tapper sending out an ill-informed tweet above a video of Ngo being attacked, writing, “Antifa regularly attacks journalists; it’s reprehensible.”

In a bizarre twist, the Portland police threw fuel on the fire by tweeting that some milkshakes thrown on June 29 “contained quick-drying cement.” The police never provided evidence and observers, including journalists, noted that many counterprotesters drank the milkshakes, making it extremely unlikely anyone could have laced them with concrete. But amplified by conspiracy theorists like Jack Prosobiec, the tweet went viral, whereupon right-wing media turned the disinformation into fact and the mainstream press treated it as a credible assertion. The police tweet incited the Right further and the group that made the milkshakes was deluged with death threats. It culminated in the city being flooded with death threats. Days after Ngo was attacked, City Hall was evacuated after a bomb threat. One source inside City Hall says the mayor’s office received “insane vitriol” and every office was receiving threats, including almost 100 harassing calls that tied up emergency service dispatchers.

Far-right figures responded to the June 29 attack on Ngo with graphic threats, and plan to hold an “End Domestic Terrorism” and “End Antifa” rally in Portland on August 17. Such is the level of far-right anger that many in the city fear the rally could become another Charlottesville, or worse — given the anti-Latino murder spree in El Paso and other foiled white nationalist plots since then.”

Here’s a point where I mildly disagree with the writer I’m plagiarizing:

“ To be clear, the attack on Ngo should be condemned. It serves no political purpose, and the Left should not be attacking media makers, even if they use dicey methods.”

Ngo doxxes people and sicks his far right buddies on them, and it’s known he doesn’t do the due diligence to make sure the people he’s targeting are actually guilty. If you think it’s wrong when left-wing adjacent people on tungle or twitter do it, it’s still wrong when right wingers do it, holy shit. If you think it’s dangerous, the type of action that gets people lynched, you’re right! Fuckers like him and Milo need to be silenced. Yes, legally it’s unfeasible to do this without opening people up to loosing their freedom to publish or accuse; which is what movements like antifa serve to do - they do the dirty work the law cannot do so the law doesn’t have to break over every item-line exception to the necessarily clumsy, overgeneralized, poorly thought out “““principle”““ put into place. It’s the same sort of deal as wide-eyed idealistic and overly-narrowly focused deontic reasoning and utilitarian thinking, you know, the ethics that actually deal with consequences and reality.

Does it break the law? Yes. Does it violate principles? Yes. That’s the point - the principles underlying this shit aren’t fundamentally different mechanically speaking from the principles that lead to people’s hands being chopped off for stealing a snickers bar or because they didn’t want to live as a serf or why people are content with sending ethnic minorities to concentration camps because the Party said so. A principle that doesn’t have the nuance or flexibility to recognize when it needs to let other principles take the lead is a bad principle; you’ve fetishized it.

Of course there are other issues too. If you’re not comfortable letting Nazis throw milkshakes too you should be comfortable with people getting arrested for it. But of course fuck all because the cops take one side in all of this, lying about wet cement mix as seen above, so this principle needs to be nuanced for the fact that some people receive more violence from law enforcement than others.

It’s late, I’m tired, lazy, mad, and exhausted. At some point before the last paragraph I was going to ask for evidence of antifa kills comparable at all to the number of far-right kills in the last decade in America. Because it’s a valid question that’s rarely answered. Because again antifa have all the organizational structure and systematization of belief as drunks at a bar. But I can’t remember my rhetorical point.

Continuing.

“Some Antifa activists in Portland also admit the attack played into right-wing hands by elevating him.

That is exactly what’s happened. Trump has beatified Ngo as one of his sinless followers — “A single man standing there with a camera who never got hit and never hit back before in his life” — under assault from the “evil” Antifa full of “sick, bad people.”

But it would also be a mistake to see Ngo as an innocent or as a journalist, considering that whoever he turns his camera, social media, or pen on is at significant risk of being inundated with violent threats from the far right.

Shane Burley is author of Fascism Today: What It Is and How to End It, and a Portland-based journalist who covered the June 29 rally. He says, “I would never condone what happened to Andy Ngo, but I think there is a reason why he got in a conflict with protesters and dozens of other reporters present seemed to be left alone.”

Burley says, “One way to think of Andy Ngo is he is part of a far-right mediasphere that creates victimization narratives of conservatism and profit from it. It’s all about the embattled American man who is under siege at every turn, whether its trans children, immigrant criminals, anchor babies, or dangerous college campuses. ‘They are all out to destroy us and our values.’ It’s an entire infrastructure that’s moved from commentary like National Review to populist media hucksters drumming up a controversy. Ngo doesn’t seem to have many real journalistic credentials, and any he does is from creating controversy. He gets in the Wall Street Journal and New York Post from being a conservative celebrity. His actual reporting is very infrequent and sparse.”

Ngo adds a new element in facilitating violence, intentionally or not. Burley says, “He appears to target ideological opponents, which can make them fair game for harassment and violent confrontation.” The scale of the threats keep escalating. Now Portland is bracing for the August 17 rally.

Killing in the Name of Free Speech?

For the last few years, the far right has used fascistic language about “cleansing” Portland, while its brawlers wore T-shirts proclaiming themselves kindred to South American death squads that killed thousands of leftists in the 1970s. But in advance of August 17, the language and memes from the far right have become more extreme. They’ve posted dozens of threats on social media pledging to kill Antifa and naming left-wing activists in Portland who should be shot during the End Antifa rally.

Individuals affiliated with Patriot Prayer and the Proud Boys talk of wanting to “slaughter” Antifa. Others have posted hair-raising images of a Portland activist and his partner with crosshairs over their faces and the words, “End Domestic Terrorist’s [sic].” Another image is of a knife cutting the throat of an antifascist with blood spraying out. This is especially ominous. In April 2017 white supremacist Jeremy Christian attended a Patriot Prayer in Portland and threw Nazi salutes while yelling “Die Muslims!” Weeks later Christian allegedly slashed the throats of three men, killing two, after they came to the defense of two black teenage girls, one wearing a hijab, whom Christian threatened by saying, “Go home. We need America here!”

One organizer of the End Antifa rally is Joe Biggs, a former staffer at Alex Jones’s Infowars website who has “encouraged date rape and punching transgender people.” He shared an illustration for the rally of a Proud Boy punching an antifascist, warning, “Free speech was fought for and paid for with blood. It will not be lost for anything less!” Biggs, whose Twitter account was suspended recently, used the platform to advise his followers to bring guns and declared “DEATH TO ANTIFA!!!!!!”

After the FBI visited him, Biggs now says “he wants a peaceful demonstration and has told his followers to keep their weapons at home.”

But that may be too little, too late as the far right is encouraging potential mass shooters to come to the rally. Recently, Haley Adams, a provocateur in Portland who told a reporter last year, “Damn straight I support white pride,” said on Facebook she “couldn’t wait” to meet Thomas Bartram on August 17. Bartram is an Infowars fan who showed up in El Paso days after the anti-Hispanic massacre and was briefly detained after allegedly brandishing a gun and trying to enter a migrant solidarity center. The center claimed police did not search Bartram’s truck that was decked out with violent pro-Trump images, saying “he has rights.” After being released, Bartram told media he was headed to the End Antifa rally.

What connects these dots is Andy Ngo. He even did his bit to stoke right-wing paranoia in El Paso. In a July 29 tweet Ngo included an image of a flyer about an immigrant rights “border resistance tour.” Ngo claimed stick figures on the flyer represent “border enforcement officers being killed & government property fired bombed” as part of a plot by Antifa to “converge on a 10-day siege in El Paso, TX.” It’s been retweeted more than 11,000 times and hundreds of comments endorse violence against Antifa. Four days later Patrick Crusius allegedly killed twenty-two people in an El Paso Walmart in “response to the Hispanic invasion of Texas.”

Gateway Bigotry

Ngo’s ascendancy began as an editor at the Portland State University newspaper, The Vanguard. At a university interfaith panel convened in April 2017, Ngo tweeted a brief video claiming, “the Muslim student speaker said that apostates will be killed or banished in an Islamic state.” The entire clip shows the student gave a long answer in response to a hypothetical question about Quranic law. The panelists stressed they weren’t experts, and the Muslim student later said “he may have misspoke.”

Ngo’s tweet was picked up by Breitbart. The Vanguard fired him days later for a “dangerous oversimplification that violated very clear ethics outlined by the Society of Professional Journalists.” The Vanguard said Ngo’s actions “placed a PSU student in significant danger.” Ngo twisted his termination into an article for The National Review, “Fired for Reporting the Truth,” which the student paper said was a “misrepresentation” that resulted in “unjust threats” against them.

Critics see this episode as establishing a pattern in Ngo’s work: using charged language and selective facts on social media that stoke bigotry, putting his subject at risk of harassment while boosting his own reach and status. It worked because in 2018 Ngo graduated to writing a “racist” and “massively Islamophobic” travelogue to two Islamic communities in England for the Wall Street Journal.

But it’s in the city of Portland and state of Oregon that Ngo calls home where the most damage has been wrought. Zakir Khan is board chair of the Oregon chapter of the Council of American-Islamic Relations, a Muslim advocacy and civil rights organization. Khan says of Ngo, “That guy is obsessed with us.”

Ngo has tweeted dozens of times about CAIR, saying it “has done PR for terrorists & their families.” He characterized CAIR’s representation of the surviving child of the Muslim couple who committed the 2015 mass shooting in San Bernardino as advocating for “the terrorists’ orphaned baby.”

Recently, in a sprawling New York Post opinion Ngo claimed a “suspicious rise” in gay hate crimes in Portland fits a pattern of hoaxes. (Ngo found space in his 2,100-word article to quote a member of the Proud Boys, which experts call a “gang” notorious for violence, as “the most welcoming organization that I have ever been a part of.”)

Khan says, “We are seen as experts on hate crimes reform, so I questioned Ngo’s groundless claims of ‘hate-crime hoaxes.’ He is not an expert in the field.” Ngo responded by accusing CAIR of “terrorism” and “terror.”

After the exchange with Ngo, Khan says, “We received dozens of threatening and harassing messages. We weren’t able to log them all.” One post that tagged Ngo, as well as Michelle Malkin (who signal boosts Ngo and started a “Protect Andy Ngo” fundraiser after the June 29 attack that netted him nearly $200,000), read, “CAIR IS HAMAS! If you stand with your Muslem neighbors; prepare to die with your Muslem neighbors. We will take our country back![sic]” Ngo frequently claims that Hamas, the governing authority in Gaza, is connected to CAIR.

The irony of all this is that after CAIR challenges Ngo’s claim of hate crime hoaxes, he responds with what could be considered hate speech, accusing them of terrorism. This appears to have incited his followers to threaten and harass CAIR, actions which might qualify as hate crimes.

For his next act, Ngo joined Quillette where he is a “sub-editor.” Described as the voice of the intellectual dark web, Quillette published a report on May 29 claiming fifteen reporters who cover the far right were really “Antifa journalists.” According to the Columbia Journalism Review, the article by “estabished right-wing troll,” Eoin Lenihan, was picked up by the neo-Nazi Stormfront website within a day, and a day after that a video was uploaded to YouTube containing “imagery of mass shooters intercut with images of the [Antifa] reporters.” The names of the journalists were put on a list called “Sunset the Media,” while the video ends with a notorious neo-Nazi saying he won’t “disown” anyone who kills the reporters.

Two journalists, including Shane Burley, wrote of the unnerving effect of being put on a Neo-Nazi death list. Another targeted journalist wrote that Quillette had crossed the line from being merely reactionary to “reckless endangerment” and bluntly stated that its list “could’ve gotten me killed.”

The article was so shoddy, Lenihan was suspended from Twitter. But Ngo promoted the article and more significantly continues to promote it — just as eight months after the fact, Ngo continued to claim that striking the protester from the Patrick Kimmons march is really evidence of Antifa taking their anger out on an elderly man.

In at least one instance it appears Ngo has doxxed activists himself. During May Day 2019, Ngo published a YouTube video that included him talking to members of the Portland chapter of the Democratic Socialists of America who were tabling for “Hands Off Venezuela.” The entire time Ngo points his camera at a sign-in sheet, not the person he is interviewing. In the video the sheet is digitally blurred. However, Connor Smith, a Portland DSA member, provided a still from what he claims is an earlier version of the video. The still includes a watermark of Ngo’s twitter handle, “@MrAndyNgo,” exactly the same as in the YouTube video. Eleven names can be seen on the sign-in sheet, including Smith’s, all of which have visible email addresses and six of which include phone numbers. Smith says at least one person on the list received threatening messages such as “Die commie.”

Smith claims it is a common right-wing tactic to doxx people on social media like YouTube and Twitter and then delete the offending material before it is removed for violating the platform’s rules. He says this cat-and-mouse game achieves the results the far right is looking for. “I’m sure some fascist has put all our names and phone numbers in a list.”

Ngo is more of a symptom, however.

Ngo couldn’t exist without social media companies which turn a blind eye to right-wing violence because having to monitor their platforms for hate speech would cut into their profits. Ngo also needs Murdoch-owned media such as the New York Post, Wall Street Journal, and Fox News that allow him to masquerade his bigotry as journalism. These outlets, in turn, are amplified by the larger landscape of mainstream media, which often fail to distinguish between fact-based journalism and pro-Trump, white nationalistic propaganda. Add in police who collaborate with the far right and weak political leaders, as in Portland, and you have all the conditions needed for opportunists like Andy Ngo to grab the spotlight.

Ngo is just the latest inflammatory right-wing agent in Portland who’s tried to vault to the big leagues. Before him was Patriot Prayer leader Joey Gibson, who has seen his ranks of violent white nationalists dwindle due to infighting and long-overdue arrests.

Way back in 2016, before Gibson, was another media provocateur, Michael Strickland. Strickland shot his YouTube career — which mainly featured him doxxing and harassing local activists — in the foot after he pulled a gun on a Black Lives Matter protest while being armed with enough ammunition for a massacre.

That’s not to say the Left should ignore the likes of Andy Ngo or even Tucker Carlson. They are both the cause and effect of white nationalism and the violence that comes with it. Their synergy is also a reflection of the complex digital landscape. Legacy media like the Wall Street Journal, the New York Post, and even Fox News need Andy Ngo just as much as he needs them. They gave him a platform not for his shoddy reporting and tired bigotry, but for the audience he’s amassed, even if it’s a digital lynch mob.”

2 notes · View notes

satire-please · 6 years

Text

Fight...NO WAIT DON’T!

Summary: When fights get personal between Ra's and Tim? They get...personal in more ways than one. (Realistic established relationship Ra’sTim)

Can also find my story here on Ao3.

Love confessions are the worst when you’re trying to kill each other.

Or maim.

Whatever, take your pick.

There’s three types of fights Tim gets into with Ra’s.

The first is the kind they both enjoy. It’s the classical cat chases mouse, Holmes and Moriarty, scenario. With clues in the dark, puzzles to solve, and explosions that are gorgeous. The stakes aren’t high except for the convenient ‘allies’ Ra’s puts in Tim’s path to mow down in righteous fury. He knows he’s the sharpest tool in Ra’s’ shed, better than any shadow that swears loyalty to the demon head when the League of Assassins has undue...competition. Tim would be more pissed at being used but the millions of ill-gotten dollars he sets on fire tends to make up for it. Another pet project bites the dust. Plus, he swears Ra’s only has to sigh about how plebeian it is for those new upstarts to employ means like children and drugs...and it doesn’t take much after that for Tim to hop a jet and make those bastards burn. International prisons have never been so full.

Sometimes it’s better than roses and chocolate. But don’t tell Ra’s that.

Behind door number 2 is the general good-versus-evil venue. Where massive groups of underground evil organizations band together for another ‘Hey, let’s rule the world or end it’ party, and, you know, the Justice League has to crash that. When that happens, Tim practically always waves at Ra’s when both groups line-up to strike a pose. The mayhem makes for the best photo op.

They have enough time to throw out a, “When the world is new, my love, you will behold the grandeur of paradise.”

“Aw, Ra’s, I thought paradise was whenever you were with me?”

Elsewhere a teenage voice demands, “Grayson, fetch me one of those disposable bags, I require one immediately.”

“Too late,” A retching sound commences, “I used the last one.”

Then they all pick a partner and dance. Once again, Tim’s date is someone three times his size or a glob monster. In the corner of his eye, he watches B and Ra’s viciously strike and dodge. Is able to catch the moment Ra’s mouths his name. The only expressions Batman wears in the cowl is stone wall and displeased stone wall with something pointy. Drifting between the shouts and yells of the crowds Tim can hear Ra’s laugh, and if he wasn’t making sure he doesn’t turn into pancake Red Robin, he’d notice B landing his hits harder. Stronger. More biting. More permanent.

But in this fight Ra’s and Tim don’t engage. In fact, since they’ve become lovers they don’t even spar because it’s not a good idea to play show-and-tell with their best moves...or their new ones.

After all, they might need them for the third kind of fight, the fight where it’s personal.

Now, everyone has their happy triggers. For Tim, it’s don’t mess around with his city and his family.

For Ra’s, it’s the pits.

So tonight, in the present, when the event planner announces the keynote speaker, when the crowd goes wild, when the spotlight descends on one figure in muted green and gold, Tim knows exactly what kind of fight it’s going to be.

And it’s going to hurt.

He winces when he feels more than sees Bruce stiffen at his side. It was just supposed to be “Support the Green” gala damn it.

The statue doesn’t get better with every word that Ra’s projects to the crowd, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I do not believe I could have hoped for a better reception in Gotham than this. You honor me. Tonight, I’m pleased to announce a project that has been in the making for years. An innovative way to clear the air, not only for you to breathe more than the smog that accosts your lungs, but clear a pathway to the stars themselves.” A round of thunderous applause and Tim hands his and B’s glass of untouched wine to the waiter. He carefully palms the side of one and hopes the caterer doesn’t notice the small crack on Mr. Wayne’s.

Ra’s takes his time outlining the project, spinning a web for the audience that traps them in their enthusiasm. The Air Oasis is basically an air filter on steroids. Each unit is almost the size of a car, about fifty of them could be placed strategically around the city for a maximum effect. The machines would suck in every pollutant through the use of magnetics and a chemical of his own design. Tim mimics B, his whole body going going numb at that notion since gee, what chemical or mysterious green substance could the man be speaking about? Then the Air Oasis machines would pump the recycled oxygen back into the city.

“Imagine strolling among the streets and in the place of refuse’s smell and filth, you are overcome with crisp, pure oxygen filling your senses instead?” The man gives a grand gesture.

Behind him when the projector screen is flooded with the Air Oasis design, Tim speaks into his lapel, “Babs, are you seeing this? Can you hack the feed and download the filter’s blueprint? There’s no way the fruitcake isn’t planning something.”

“On it, I’ll send you the analysis immediately once I pick it apart and check every screw.”

Tim whispers earnestly, “You are the most perfect badass I know, O.”

“You’re a liar, but flatter me more. I deserve it.”

“You’re beautiful and Dick never deserved you.”

She snorts in his ear lightly. “Of course he didn’t, that’s why we broke up.”

“And every night his pillow is wet with bitter tears,” he hisses back.

Oracle softly giggles and says, “He’ll have to cry harder than that to get me back. Send you that data soon, just stay on your toes and avoid dark corners with your wicked paramour. I’ll be watching and judging you. O out.”

Tim doesn’t have the heart to tell her Ra’s doesn’t mind having an audience. In fact, as the applause gets louder more people rush to the men at the side, giving their ‘donations’ to the project. Ra’s thrives from it.

The moment the demon’s speech is done, the deafening support on the ‘green’ idea established (which is going to be bitch to sabotage because Ra’s isn’t doing this from the shadows ironically...he’s doing this in the open, getting the public’s rapport so Tim can just foresee the PR nightmare) the two vigilantes wait. They don’t rush the man, but let him saunter from person to person to give his poisoned honey out. Their eyes glued on him, Brucie turning into Bruce turning into the Bat as he gets closer and closer until finally the criminal stands before him.

He is not alone. Next to Ra’s is the most intimidating woman Tim has ever met besides his mother (don’t tell her he said that). Talia.

Tim gives the first volley, “Why do I think you’re not here just to see me in a suit?”

“You do look fetching, no ravishing, in that attire, my love,” Ra’s purrs, his eyes roving over Timothy’s delightful form, “but you are correct. I am not.”

Tim won’t admit it, but Ra’s doesn’t look half bad either. The black suit is fitted to his broad shoulders, delicate highlights of his trademark colors running through the fabric. Beside him Talia floats in brilliant green to match. Long gloves cover the scars she’s earned on her arms, while finery and gems makes her skin glisten.

“What are you doing here?” Brucie’s voice breaks into a growl, unable to keep his lighthearted persona now that the Demon is in his presence.

“Since you so enjoy traipsing through my territory, destroying my property, destroying my pits, four of my—” The assassin’s demeanor cracks a little, his wrath bleeding through for a second until that mouth curls into smirk, “I thought it best to return the favor and find time to appreciate what’s yours.”

“What are you planning.” It’s a demand, not a question.

“If you are unable to uncover the truth on your own, then you are not the detective I once called you.”

The Bat lurches forward, but Tim steps between them, placing a hand on B’s chest to push him back an inch. B looms like the biblical Goliath, dwarfing him (completely unfair), but Tim tilts his head and gives a brilliant smile, “But he does have someone you call ‘Detective’ now. I’m sure with the both of us, past and future sleuths, your plan doesn’t stand a chance.”

“We shall see, beloved.” He beckons to Talia. “But, for now, we shall find ways to enjoy the company of others. All too soon it will be end of this godforsaken city. Daughter, perhaps you could dance with your detective while I speak to mine?”

“Yes, Father. Habibi?” Talia reaches and trails her fingers down Bruce’s sleeve. “Join me for a song or two. We have much to discuss.”

Bruce twists his head to his charge. “Tim.”

“Go, I’ll be fine.”

Bruce continues to glance backwards as Talia leads him to the dance floor. His face thunderous as Ra’s gets closer and closer to his son until they’re barely an inch apart.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what, my love?” Greedily, Ra’s takes Tim’s wrist and rubs a thumb over his pulse. Steady, unafraid...incredible.

“You know he hates when you play the perverted creep.”

“Yet I have not done anything to warrant such a reputation.” Ra’s says mockingly, interlocking their fingers together. “Perhaps that should change. Please, this way. I’ve been told the gardens are most lovely.”

“You are the worst.” But Tim does nothing when Ra’s places his other hand on his lower back. Does nothing against that press as they move further from the crowd to the more...secluded setting. Outside of the pavilion, the rooftop garden is simple but elegant. You have to be rich (or Poison Ivy) to grow anything in this city. It is also speckled with a few benches and alcoves like the one Ra’s pulls him into.

There the Demon head gives in to hunger and finally wraps his lover in his arms. It’s been far too long since he’s held his Timothy. In the night, the music plays faintly in the background and it’s sentimental surely, but there is a definite moment or two where they sway back and forth.

Ra’s takes a deep breath and sighs, “How I long to dance with you in public.”

“And ruin my carefully maintained persona?” Tim raises an eyebrow. “How about no?”

Yet they still dance for the whole song, Ra’s turning them slightly before they add anything.

“I thought we had an agreement. I keep an open mind about ‘certain’ things while you keep your stupid green cape out of Gotham. So why are you here?”

“Because I have allowed too many insults to go unchecked. Thanks to the Bat,” Ra’s spat, “too much of my empire has been reduced to ash without any sign of my displeasure. The time for retribution is now.”

“I destroy your stuff all the time.” Tim points out.

“Yet you tend to leave the secret of my immorality alone, dearest. It was not you that inspired my wrath last month. It was not you who has limited my resources to three pits.”

No. But Tim did give the locations to Bruce when he asked. He also knows very well exactly what kind of firepower that’s needed to destroy a pit for good. He swallows and says nothing, looking away from the man.

“What do the machines actually do, Ra’s?” If Tim can just get a clue, a detail, anything to guess what’s to come, then he’ll have a better chance.

A dark laugh. Well that can’t be good. “I assure you, the filtration units perform their designed function, nothing more. They will filter this wretched air your disgusting city has polluted and leave only oxygen in its place. They will cleanse this city from its filth. Perhaps you will thank me when the progress is finished, my dear.”

“Don’t count on it.” He makes a note to check the machine’s blueprints himself when O is done with them. He’s going to stop him. No matter what, Tim is going to stop him. “Whatever you are planning, it’ll never work.”

“On the contrary, already the fools inside have agreed to install the units on the morrow. In hours—” Ra’s stops and breaks into a tense quirk of a smile, “And already you have me monologuing, for shame my lips are too loose around you.”

“It’s not my fault you love to talk.” Damn. A line or two more could have been vital. But Tim notes his own bad habits, how it doesn’t faze him at all as Ra’s manhandles him to have his back against a brick wall. How the assassin’s arms cage him there and Tim doesn’t feel threatened at all...yeah, he should get that checked out.

“My mouth loves to do many things when it’s around you,” Ra’s mutters, his thumb coming up to rub at the bottom lip that calls to him. “Tell me, beloved, will you hate me when I win?”

Tim doesn’t even miss a beat, “I don’t know, will you hate me when you lose?” He crosses his arms in challenge. His forearms brush against the other with how little space there is between them.

Ra’s stares into those eyes, so pretty and oh so sure and chuckles bitterly. “Let us see what the fates decide.”

“No conscious effort on our parts?” Tim states wryly, but let his cheek rest in that palm. “No chance of you backing down if I ask nicely?”

“I calculate the same probability if I begged you to stay uninvolved.”

So zero, “Fuck.”

“Indeed...would you do if I told you there a jet ready to take you away? Would you leave before destruction leaves none in its path? Or stay to be numbered with the dead?”

“Who says there’s going to be any dead? Who says that your scheme won’t be destroyed, like it always is, instead? What, you think I’m going to go easy on you just because I like you? Don’t kid yourself, when I’m done with you your ninjas will have to scrape you off the dirty sidewalk.”

There’s a sharp intake, a gasp, and for a second Tim thinks his words have some effect. And they have, but it’s not the threat that has Ra’s fingers digging into his jaw, dragging Tim up against him. Tim shoots out his arms to brace himself, yet their chests smush together as Ra’s other arm coils tightly around him.

“Why I believe that’s the first time you’ve admitted any sort of fondness for me...how wildly unfortunate to reveal your affections now.” The green of those eyes darken and Tim’s flinch gives his surprise away. Is it really the first time?

“Is it? Well, I’ve always been more of a man of action.” He starts to pry the hand off his face, but Ra’s isn’t having it. The digits just slide through Tim’s hair to the base of his skull and pulls. Tim winces as the man directs his head until their lips lightly touch. He even needs to stand on his toes because Ra’s is a special kind of tall bastard.

Ra’s mouth twists into a smirk against beloved’s, the sensation divine. “This is true. Your actions, your body...has always been so loud.”

And he begins to take.

Their kisses always start soft.

Like a trap, each movement is gentle bait. Easing into the rhythm of hunger, as their lips slide against each other. Ra’s wants his lover frantic, desperate but it takes patience. Patience to wait, to seduce, to build the desire until they can’t stand any option other than being absolutely consumed.

It is the patience 800 years has rewarded him with.

Though with Timothy it is a cycle that feeds into each other, as the Detective’s demeanor finally melts, his own cravings become more ravenous.

Tim tilts his face up to gasp, yet Ra’s chases that mouth, chases that opening to use his tongue and taste. Tim’s legs buckle a little and Ra’s grips one hip tight to compensate. Soon he will need to wrap those coltish legs around his waist. It is where they belong.

A sharp pain, Ra’s rears back an inch to groan. He tongues the small cut on his lower lip and purrs. “Beloved, there are other ways to paint your lips red.”

Tim’s eyes are half-lidded, bored. One of Ra’s fingers, his pinky, rests on a pulse that tells Ra’s the truth. That the detective’s heart has started to race. “But you like it when I do it this way the most.”

Ra’s burns. He does not know whose breath it is that rings so harshly in his ears. Who crashes their lips together harder first. Yet the iron from his blood is an excellent spice to this meal. He could get addicted in how one of Timothy’s arms comes over his shoulder to claw at his pressed suit. Could get lost in the quiet mewl that invokes Ra’s’ darkest determination to make into a scream—

Could get lost...Oh his clever, clever beloved.

“Are you are a distraction, my precious?” Ra’s snarls angrily, he jerks Timothy’s face to the side for a deeper, more exposed angle, as if he could devour this alluring creature whole. “A horrible.” suck. “wonderful.” kiss. “distraction?”

Meanwhile Tim is just trying to hold on, thanks.

“B-Bitch, I might be. But what are you going to do, oh great Demon Head? Are you going to let yourself be distracted, is it going to be worth it?” Tim’s breath comes fast with the challenge. So he never does anything for one reason. So what? The longer he can give Babs time to decode or Bruce to wring out intel with Talia...the better. The longer he can keep Ra’s focus on him and not his ‘plan,’ the better. The longer he can feel this...with him, the better. His thumb comes up to pop open the top button of his shirt, teasing his lover with a flash of collarbone through the gap. Ra’s cannot resist. The proof that Timothy is his has faded there and it’s unacceptable.

“Do not tempt me,” he cautions as he buries his face into that throat. His teeth already coming out to play.

“I t-think ah, I can handle it, thanks.”

Tim gives a little hop and naturally Ra’s drops his hands to help him. He clutches Tim under his thighs, which should be bare not loathsomely covered, to hoist him up, half reclining against the wall, half wrapped up around the assassin. It puts Tim’s head above his and frees up his hands to roam while Ra’s’ are occupied.

Ah, well he supposes the detective enjoys the chance of being tall. “I wonder what exactly I have let into my bed?”

“You mean the bed you practically blackmailed me into?”

“Only at first, my love. After all, I did not use any means to lure you there the second time, nor every time after that.”

Tim huffs stiffly, decides to do some marking of his own. He nudges Ra’s face out of the way and worries at the tendons of his neck, sucking hard, intending to bruise with the slight.

Timothy is so precious when he’s spiteful.

“It is as if we are Aesop’s frog and scorpion.”

“You and your stupid stories, ” Tim grits out, but it turns into a moan when Ra’s squeezes his hands on his ass.

“Now, now, you enjoy my stories. One day the scorpion begged the frog to cross river. The frog attempted to refuse out of fear, of that stinger gleaming wet in the sun. Yet the scorpion only rationalized that if he did sting the frog during the swim then both would die. Convinced, the frog began to cross the river, scorpion upon its back—”

“Let me guess, this fable doesn’t have a happy ending?” He’s helpless to the hands on his ass, the mouth moving against his collarbone, all of it makes his hips jerk against Ra's.

“—Yet once halfway across, the scorpion stung the frog mercilessly. As the two drown, the stunned, poisoned frog cries ‘Why?’ to the scorpion.”

“Called it.” Tim pulls back to blow on the hickey in the making, rolls with Ra’s’ shiver and attempts to not react when Ra’s returns the favor. He fails. Especially when Ra’s starts to open up the rest of his shirt with his teeth, revealing more sensitive pale skin that Ra’s loves, needs to play with. Tim squirms when the warm mouth finds his nipple and flicks it with tongue. “A-And what did the—ah—scorpion’s say, Ra’s?”

“He replied, ‘Because I cannot resist my nature,’ and attacked the frog again and again until both were well under the waves. He was a scorpion and that is what scorpions do...they sting. So tell me, beloved...which of us is the frog? And which the scorpion?”

And Tim manages to muffle the plea in the demon’s throat. The one crawling, scraping to escape with mangled, ‘Please. P-please don’t do this. Stop. Don’t hurt my city. Don’t hurt my people.’ But the fable has a point, and it’s not fair of him to ask. Not when Ra’s won’t deliver and neither have convictions that bend or bow.

So while his mind turns with plans and next moves, with contingencies to try countering his insane significant other's maniacal plot-in-progress, Tim just drags Ra’s back to his lips and makes his kisses hurt, makes them sting and sting and sting . Because if this is the last time he can have any part of the man he took as his lover, then it’s best to make their mouths swollen and ruined.

Tim will remember him better that way.

“Oh Ra’s...you know the answer to that. We’re both of them.”

Some heroes are not needed.

Like Dick Grayson riding in out of nowhere to drag him out of Ra's arms. How he takes no time to get one hand on the back of Tim’s suit and pull. Dick half-drags, half-carries him down the stairwell, and Tim is this close to punching him in the face. Those perfect teeth are begging to be ruined. The man’s hand around his wrist is like iron but it doesn’t stop Tim from mentally going over every technique he knows of how to break bones. Half of the buttons on his shirt are undone, the open fabric flapping as they race down to the car. Tim doesn’t bother fixing it, he’ll change out of his civilian day-wear soon enough. Luckily for him, he’d carried and stored the suit nearby, always. Better to thwart your evil plots with, my dear.

“This way!”

“I had it, Dick. No ‘rescue’ necessary.”

“No rescue necessary?” Dick stops for a moment to wildly gesture at him. Pointing at the red marks littering Tim’s skin, he even lets go of the arm to fuss over clothes until Tim smacks his fingers. “Tim, you look like you were mauled by a lion.”

“It was a sexy lion. Did B send you? I told him I was going to be fine.” He glances backwards, wondering if Ra’s is with the rest of the crowd pretending to be impressed with the last event, or if he’s at the top of the emergency stairwell, eyes hungry and dark.

“Wait, are you mad that I stopped you on the roof?”

“No.” Yes. It’s complicated. Even though the Bats have a long history, almost a long freaking tradition of trysts on top of buildings. Even though Tim is a perfectly legal, consenting adult with a tie, a tie that Tim had plans for and didn’t get to use, dammit. Maybe he could have used it to gag the man after he promised, ‘If tonight is our last, I shall not rest until pleasure overwhelms you. Until all you can do is sob and keen my name.’ Though, it does puts Tim in the very awkward position of trying to have sex with someone that’s doing his best to kill his family...It’s complicated. It’s always been.

He’s a pot surrounded by kettles. Just taste the ash and call it good. Really what Tim has done, is still doing, is mild on the bat spectrum.

He’s never killed anyone.

He’s never slept around, making notches on his belt with vigilante and enemy alike.

It’s just the one. This one relationship that’s ironically healthier compared to what their little family’s been through. It’s consistent. Adoring, smothering, and respectful. The man is a liar, but he’s never lied to Tim about the way he feels.

It’s more than he can say for rest of the Bats.

But it’s probably better this way. Better that the person with the dick joke in his name stopped them, cockblocked the two before the rest of the guests wandered outside for the fireworks display.

‘Why should that matter, Mr...Grayson? The shadows hide us well and the fireworks would cover up your brother’s delicious cries.’

Dick lunged at Ra’s for those words.

It’s fine.

“Timmy…”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Tim grits his teeth. “Let’s just focus on the here and now.”

Dick grabs a shoulder before they hit the street. “You know I care, right? I just don’t want you to get hurt. I–”

“I know.” He knows the others think him compromised. He knows they care, they just don’t trust that he can get things done anyway. “Now get out there and take care of some ninja scum for us. I’ll see you back in the cave.”

Dick squeezes tightly, his mouth a thin line but nods. “See you there, little brother.” He hands Tim what he needs and turns to the police car parked on the street.

The vigilante sighs. A car door shuts in the background, but his head tilts up to the sky blooming in color. It’s a shame. It’s sort of romantic. The kind you find in movies, books, and songs. It might have been nice...to watch them together with his lover. His bangs swing to shake the sentiment out of his head and then he gets to work.

“Talk to me, O,” as the Ducati vibrates between his thighs.

Leaving the presentation with his body throbbing and unsatisfied was really not how he’d hoped to end the night, but still, he’s got a nefarious plot to stop.

“It’s mechanical engineering only,” is the reply through his comm while he hangs a sharp right and the spot on his collar bone aches for more touch. “The machine is going to work pretty well considering we don’t know exactly what’s going to be powering it.”

Well, fuck.

“So how he plans to use to the Pit on Gotham and to what ends,” is his grim summation.

“Right on the money. To his credit, it is a filtration system, but without more details on his ‘mystery element,’ we have no idea what chemical could be pumped out. It could be a form of the Lazarus Pit, but I really doubt Ra’s al Ghul is trying to make half of Gotham pretty much immortal.”

Numbly, Red is already planning on where he needed to break-in to get the missing component, how he’d need to get into the warehouse on Dixon Dock to check out Ra’s little chemical lab.

“Can’t you send the digital copy to my wrist computer? I’ve got some leads to check out, but I can give them a look-see while N is kicking in some faces.”

She hums over comm, “You got it, Baby Bird. Try not to let your boyfriend kill off our city.”

Tim guns the bike, revving it to go faster, harder. “What? You afraid I’ll steal the title of worst break-up in the family? Bruce has to lose his place eventually Babs, Red out.”

Ra’s chemical lab by the water is unlocked. Which by all means should be a sign with showgirls and feathers that it’s a big trap...only there’s nothing there. Sure there’s examples of pit water and an assortment of goodies that would make any of Gotham’s rouge gallery squeal with fiendish delight, but nothing Tim can use. Or anyone to beat up. Tim is a bit miffed about that. Okay, cross that out, he’s pissed as hell because there’s not even a single guard, not even a scrap of black fluttering in the corners for a ninja to say ‘hi.’

How rude.

Meeting his eye, there’s only neat rows of tables, beakers, and the same designs that Ra’s presented to the Gala. Oh and a note. Folded neatly in an open envelope with Tim’s full name on it in gorgeous calligraphy.

Because Ra’s is a magnificent bastard.

Tim snatches it up and his fingers crinkle the page as he unfolds it in hurried movements. The green ink, because everything’s in green (honestly he should introduce Ra’s to Ivy, they have so much in common), is glossy to the touch and there’s a hint of spice that Tim’s recognizes as Ra’s scent immediately. Chai and cloves. Madder than ever, he tells himself not to rip the possible evidence just because he’s memorized the way Ra’s smells.

My Dear Beloved,

Why would you need break into a kingdom that is already yours? When have I denied you access to my labs and systems? You possess all the keys yet that shall not save your city.

There is a boat at the dock with my insignia.

Forget your mission, it is futile. Leave this place before it is too late. I will be...displeased if the next time I hold you, it is your corpse I must cradle.

Respecting your stance on using the pit is infuriating. See reason and abandon your mentor, my Love.

Leave.

What do you know? He does end up ripping the paper in fascinating, tiny pieces. It’s like snow. It’s barely satisfying.

They’re on the clock. He races to his bike, blares through the night to check every other hidey-holes Tim knows Ra’s has. One hour becomes two, three, and a dejected Tim returns to the cave to see Bruce pacing the floor. The filter’s plans are blown up on every screen they have.

They don’t crack the mystery that night.

And it takes too long for them to figure it out.

The first ones to get sick are animals.

Despite the lack of support from WE, filters pop up everywhere like some crazy rich fad. Like magic or IKEA, the machines are put together in under an hour and there’s fifty of them. B dots them on the map, but there’s no pattern, it really is randomly spread out as some are placed in the slums as acts of charity, others are set up on the top of wealthy estates like solar panels. Of course, the first Bat response is to monitor the heck out of them. Within minutes, Tim creates a detector that inspects the filters output every twenty minutes like clockwork and Tim pumps them out so N, Robin, and B can slap every filter with one.

“I just don’t understand.” Weary but his nerves keep him upright to stare at the screen, Tim forces sleep deprivation to work for him like the bitch it is. His hand absentmindedly pats the table for the coffee cup just in case. Is it caffeine or frustration that’s making him twitchy? “I’m getting nothing. Nothing but oxygen. What is the pit water even being used for?”

B leans over his shoulder and taps on the central mechanism of the design. “Perhaps to power the whole thing?”

“Maybe, but it’s not doing anything. What if it’s all just a distraction? What if our attention is being completely wasted while somewhere else Ra’s is—”

There’s a loud buzz overhead and Bruce flips the call to broadcast the call into the cave, “B here, report.”

“Father. There is a terrifying decrease in the animal population in Block 4.” Damian’s voice has a small tremor and for the young boy...that’s practically a scream of distress. “I have already contacted vets and animal hospitals in every vector of Gotham and yet I keep finding…this.”

B connects to Damian’s video feed, it appears that Robin’s in an alley of some kind. It’s a long one, and from Damian’s feet all the way to the back are cats and dogs, no strays all curled up on their side as if in sleep.

But their eyes are open and plastic-looking. Their mouths wide, tongues and contents of their stomach spewed out on the gravel. It’s a nightmare perfectly designed for the kid.

“Robin, return to headquarters immediately. You don’t have to—”

“All pet owners I have questioned also report that the health of their animals have declined. It does not matter where in the city, yet creatures that are kept deep inside of their residences appear to be affected the least.” From the camera, they watch green gloves carefully, gently pick up one of the carcasses. “It must be from those vile contraptions. They must be destroyed.”

“D...Robin,” Tim tries, “There’s nothing new being pumped in the air. I’ve tried, analyzed everything we have on file, and no chemical components have been released into the atmosphere.”

“Tch. No matter. I must check to see if any of these animals can be hospitalized. Red will you relay to the public to keep their pets indoor?”

Tim hacks away at phone lines, creating an automatic text response that will appear on every electronic device in Gotham. “Of course, Robin.”

“...Thank you. Father, keep me updated, I shall return shortly.”

And he does.

In Red Hood’s arms far too pale, far too clammy and rasping.

“Special delivery.” Jason hauls the figure onto a medibed. “Wish it was a better one.”

All the air is punched out Tim’s lungs at the sight of the limp Robin. He can’t breathe and his body jerks towards B and Dick. The two appear to be in the same boat.

“What, Dami—” Dick starts.

“Get him hooked up immediately,” B growled, “I want to know his vitals now!”

Everyone rushes to obey.

Tim snatches the IVs, while Dick and Bruce hover over the bed like vultures, silent to hear the shallow breathing of the boy better. The monitor pops up with symptoms; varying levels of lung damage, nausea, retina damage, and—

Damian heaves of the bed, his limbs violently spasming as Dick goes into complete panic mode.

Seizures.

“Where did you find him?” Tim asks Jason, walking back at the map of filter locations again. Scanning at the interior design of the machines again. Doing everything he’d already done over again, because he’s missing something. What is he missing? Yes, he can definitely tell that Bruce’s hunch was right, the pit water is running the filter, but not only that. It’s amplifying it. But amplifying what?

“Alfred, we need you down here.”

Gruffly Jason answers, “Found ‘im at Main and Cobbler. Found ‘im like that too, lying on the street like roadkill.” He stuffs his hands in his pocket all cool, but Tim catches the tell.

“He might not be the only one either,” O solemnly says over the coms, on Tim’s wrist computer, the reports she sends fill him with shocked horror. Security cams of kids being rushed to the emergency room, their parents with tear-streaked faces as doctors frantically rush to and fro.

“Alfred, I need you now!”

“I’ll get ‘im.” Jason yells, his boots ringing loudly on the stairs up to the manor.

“O,” Tim’s voice is quiet, disconnected. “How many cases...No, how many victims are there so far?”

A pause, two. “Currently? There is a hundred and sixty-four reported cases that have been admitted to the hospital. Most are in critical condition, but doctors are doing everything they can and, unlike the animals, it seems like there’s been no fatalities yet.”

“Good.” Tim takes a deep breath through his nose. “That’s good.”

“We have a fucking problem here!” Jason screeches, he’s back with Alfred.

Actually let Tim rephrase that, on Jason’s back is Alfred. Fuck. That is less good. Tim is not the praying type, but when Jason drags over another gurney to strap Alfred in? The pallor in the older gentleman highlighted by his blurry unfocused eyes? Tim prays. His knees buckling but his grip on the computer table keeps him from crashing to the floor.

‘Ra’s. Please Ra’s, no. Don’t take them away from him. Don’t do this.’

But he knows somewhere Ra’s is watching, the Demon Head drinking in the destruction of the city he hates. Somewhere a ninja is disclosing exactly how much his attack stings. How effective his poison is as the Bat leans over two of the most important people in his life, the oldest and youngest and breaks.

Tim wishes and prays for things he can’t have.

“Get up, we’re gonna wreck these trash cans, right? Right, Babybird?” Jason says, roughly yanking Tim away from the computer to the motorcycles in the back. The Red Hood’s trembling becomes more pronounced at finding another family member at death’s door. “Look, it’s Occam's razor. Simplest way to take outta bitch. Who cares what they’re doing to the air? We smash the things and poof they’re outta the picture n’ we’re back ta normal.”

“It would stop whatever process they’re doing,” Tim rationalizes, “But, Jason, whatever is in the air affecting people is still there.”

“I don’t care. N. N! Dammit, Dick, get your bubble ass over here.” Jason takes control and Nightwing slowly turns to the two, his face wet and gone. “Let’s go huntin’. Let’s fuck these things up. You’d like that, huh?”

Nightwing expression transforms into a feral snarl. “ Yes I would. Let’s.”

“B, you stay here and keep treating those two.” Tim grabs his helmet and straddles the bike. “Keep looking at the files, keeping looking for what we’re missing. It’s got to be there somewhere.”

“Somewhere...right. We need a new approach. This is not like Ra’s. He’s switching it up. Switching from his usual elaborate style with bits of clues bleeding all over the place.” B replies tersely, losing that haunted look momentarily. His heads steady as he makes Alfred and Damian as comfortable as possible. “The only thing we’re finding is just oxygen.”

It’s at that second it crashes into Tim. It’s just oxygen.

‘The filtration units perform their designed function, nothing more. They will filter this wretched air your disgusting city has polluted and leave only oxygen in its place.’

It’s just oxygen.

“Oh. my. god. It’s exactly what it says on the label,” Tim whispers stunned. “It was right there in front of us, of course it was, that inhumane, diabolical, waste of—”

“Tim? Come on, we’ve some things to trash, no time to get lost in yer head.”

For the first time in fourteen hours, Tim grins wildly at the Bat’s around him, “Then let me share with the class.”

Tim has a plan.

And damn it feels good.

At the climax, Red Robin ends up with a dislocated knee and three cracked ribs. The blood dripping from his nose streams down his chin as Ra’s shakes him repeatedly. The villain holding him high off the ground as each word is punctuated by the grip on the uniform collar.

“You. Infuriating. Insufferable. Pest.”

“You fucking—“ cough “—love me.”

“You ruined everything!”

“Yes. Yes I did.”

Alfred and Damian are safe. Gotham is safe. Nightwing and Jason took out filters like moms at a 75% off sale and fun fact, did you know that pure oxygen is bad for you? Sure, we need it to breathe, but too much high pressure oxygen can give the same side effects sick scuba divers have.

Plus, it can kill you.

Solution: pump some sweet carbon dioxide at the same rate Ra’s super filters pump oxygen to balance it out and voila no more oxygen poisoning for you. Who handled that? Brucie. Not the Bat, but Bruce freaking Wayne, who contacted WE with a little help from O, and all factories were a go. Just in time, since exposure to pure oxygen for over sixteen hours can cause permanent lung damage and death and guess who confronted Ra’s juuuuuuust to stop him from turning up the filtration levels so the carbon dioxide couldn’t work? Guess who took out Ra’s’ remote control system that synced up the machines? Guess who stopped the oxygen plague at fifteen hours and forty-two minutes?

“How dare you!”

You’re looking at him, baby.

Around them, the building is in shambles, the extra filtration unit was cheating, Ra’s, but hey they’re on the ground floor with no windows for the man to kick Tim through so score. True, his body is a limp, useless lump, but spite keeps him smug and victorious. He hopes the muscles in his face are working enough to convey that. It must have since Ra’s expression twists in absolute fury. “How dare you deny my vengeance! How dare you continue to get in my way over and over again—”

“—Then end it, you bastard.” Tim forces his eyes crack open to meet Ra’s burning glare. “You g-got me right where you want me, don’t you?”

“I wanted you far from here!” he hisses at him. “I wanted you miles away in my keep, safe and sound and mine.”

“Tough fucking luck, you want to stop me? Then kill me, Darling.” Tim moves his arms to scratch hard at Ra’s wrists, drawing blood before grab them tightly. Anything to take a little of the weight so he can breathe a little more, speak a little more, because he’s not done yet. He’s actually impressed that Ra’s can hold him up, he’s sure he broke at least two of those fingers. The demon’s trap is such a pain to evade after all. “You want to win your stupid games? Then stop playing and break my neck. You’ve said it yourself, I’m a detective. I figure out all your plans and foil them because newsflash that’s what detectives do. So here you go, the perfect opportunity to end me, end me like the annoying, persistent bug you know I am. You have the skill, so what are you doing to do?”

“You—”

“I love you.”

Ra’s freezes, the man almost a statue and Tim would laugh and laugh if he had the energy for it. His toes scrape on the pavement, he feels like a ghost already.

“I am never going to stop.” Tim tries to crack his lips into a smile. They’re too dry and it hurts. “You are never going to stop. I’ve accepted it. I hate it. I hate you, and I hate how much I still want to be with you, but I’ve accepted it. So are you going to do the same or finally break us?”

Tim’s feet crash to the ground, he doesn’t bother supporting his own weight, just sags into Ra’s’ grip still around his neck. A few yards away their two forms would appear as lovers and not enemies about to kill each other. “It is not that simple, my brilliant scorpion.”

“We’ve already drowned R-Ra’s.” He wheezes. “Now make up your damn mind.”

The fingers begin to constrict and Tim winces but is not surprised. This was always a possible outcome. He just wishes he could see Ra’s’ face when his last contingency kicks in. The one that connects his heart rate to the bombs attached to not only the last of Ra’s’ Lazarus pits but even the ones tucked deep into the earth on the vein that springs them up in the first place.

It doesn’t matter.

He’ll just have to wait until they meet again in Hell.

Tim doubts his lover would make him wait too long.

“What have you done to me?”

The air gradually cut off from Tim’s throat. His broken gasps becoming fainter, weaker. But he doesn’t look away, only lifts his hand to brush Ra’s cheek with the back of his knuckles. He’s angry at the black creeping into his vision so quickly, Ra’s’ wretched sight may be the last thing he sees...but he doesn’t regret it. He’d do it again if he could.

“I should...no, I must be rid of you—”

There’s voices in the background, shouting his name, but Tim can’t pay them any mind. Not when his heartbeat is the loudest thing he hears in his ears, the way it rushes trying so hard, so frantically to still beat. He doesn’t want to miss a thing, not even as the darkness finally overtakes him and he. is. out.

“—Yet I cannot stand the thought of mourning you.”

“T–!”

“Tim, please you have to get up.”

Tim gasps, his eyes shooting open to stalactites and faces above his own.

“Timmy, you’re finally awake!”

“I-I’m alive?” he croaks. His voice grating and sore. Huh. Well Tim didn’t plan for this. He reaches to his neck and wonders if there’s bruises in the shape of Ra’s’ fingerprints. It definitely hurts like it would.

“Yeah, the sec we got in a hundred feet, Ra’s lobbed ya at us like a football and ran off like the filthy coward he is.” Jason sits at the end of the bed.

But he didn’t snap his neck like vigilante expected either. The assassin could have, would have had enough time to do that before the others could get to him. He could have had a consolation prize: revenge nice and neat by throwing another dead son at the Bat’s feet.

But he didn’t.

Red takes in his surroundings, the bats echoing somewhere in the cave, how he must be on the good stuff because he can’t feel anything. Not that it stops Dick from placing a hand on his shoulder to pin him down to the cot when he tries to sit up.

“Whoa, what do you think you’re doing, little brother?”

“Where’s Alfred and Damian? Are they alright? Are they—”

An indignant sniff to his left, “What? Did you suppose you could be rid of my existence so easily? Despite your predisposition for it, do not be a fool, Drake.” Damian leans over with a show of crossing his arms. But there’s a lack of bite in those words.

“Are your animals, Batcow and all, okay?”

Damian glowers and looks away, “They are fine, of course. Just like you shall also be in no time, I suppose.”

Tim smiles. Watches as Dick coos and attacks the youngest in a big hug of death. Even Jason’s lips twitch.

Alfred steps into his scope of vision. Tim’s breathing relaxes more, it’s great to see the grace and poise back in the butler. Alfred is...special to him, to the whole family, for a reason after all. “I am here as well. Master Damian and I should recover rather quickly without much assistance. It seems, however, the recovery for your injuries will require much more.”

Tim manages not to shrug, to be fair it really could have been much worse. It was almost as if Ra’s had been playing nice. He might actually recover in one or two months! He looks around, his head dropping back to the pillows at the lack of one more..person he would like to see. His heart betraying him with disappointment.

“Where’s Bruce?” His tone betrays him too, dang it.

“He is out on the veranda. There is something urgent that he must see to,” Alfred says steadily, the man thinks of how Master Bruce has been guarding the entrance to the medbay for quite some time. His ward being armed with things that hurt, for the Bat has lost his charitable mood as of late. Then the butler arches an eyebrow, “In fact, Master Timothy, could you please enlighten us as to why over twenty ninjas are camped on the lawn?”

Huh. The gesture is sweet. Almost as sweet as the time Ra’s gave him the files for nineteen sex traffickers for his birthday.

“I probably got them in the divorce.” At Dick’s strangled noises, Tim adds, “Nah, most likely they’re just here to make sure I stabilize.”

The collective sigh of relief around him is annoying. Okay, Tim can’t help it.

“I mean, we’d have to break up or something for that to happen first and I don’t remember the two of us doing that.”

Cries of outrage, “Tim, he almost killed you!”

“But he didn’t.”

“He almost killed off half of Gotham’s population!”

“But we stopped him in time.” Tim wiggles minutely to get comfortable. “The fight is over, no harm, no foul.”

“Tim, you’re harmed all over!”

Tim continues like he wasn’t interrupted, “It’s like a normal Tuesday for us at this rate. Alfred, could you tell B I’m fine and awake? It should be enough for the ninjas to get the memo that I’m okay and go the fuck away.”

“If that is what you wish for, Master Timothy.” The butler bows and walks away, knowing the small crowd around the bed will keep the teenager secure. Before he heads upstairs, he picks up the AK-47 resting to the side. Some people need...persuasion it seems to leave his family in peace, though he supposes that the weapon is unbecoming for not being ‘a bat.’ To be frank, as Alfred’s shadow darkens the halls one step at a time, a line of children’s poetry continues to echo in his mind.

‘But I’ve brought a big bat. I’m ready, you see. Now my troubles are going to have troubles with me.’

Alfred will give Ra’s one concession. His men are quite annoyingly...persistent to get rid of. The challenge of it all is almost admirable.

Almost.

It takes a month for Tim to beg, banter, and threaten in order return to his perch where he can finally be alone.

He’s overwhelmed by bliss at the thought.

Okay, so it may take longer than usual to dismantle the current array of bugs spread throughout the place. He may have had to sell his soul and swear to rest for a few more weeks that he swears he doesn’t need.

But, still, it’s nice to be home.

Where he’s not smothered every half in hour, he means you, you Dick. It’s lovely to be able to limp around his apartment freely, his prop-crutches being useful for a change. There’s no one to judge, assess, or psychoanalyze him on his views and how they haven’t changed concerning a certain person. He can finally relax and sink into his own bed and Tim almost wants to cry.

He loves his room. Where Tim doesn’t bother to lock his bedroom window. It’s annoying to fix the locks if they’re going to be broken repeatedly. So, at midnight, when he hears it crack open, the sliding of it so soft, Tim doesn’t turn around in bed to face it. He just waits for the cold of his back to turn to warmth, for something heavy to sink beside him and make the old mattress squeak. He’s patient for the arms to wind hesitantly around his waist, mindful of his injuries with a delicate touch.

“I wish you would cease needlessly provoking me.”

“I wish you’d close the window, you’re letting the cold in.”

“Have I ever failed to keep you warm, detective?”

Tim hums and settles deeper in the mattress, the ache of his injuries easing under good pain killers and the chest moving against his spine. The night eases around them, shadows moving, reminding him of roof tops and flying free, never so free as this.

“So, do you hate me yet?”

Ra’s huffs quietly into Tim’s ear, “Not nearly enough it seems.” He presses a lingering kiss in the hollow behind it.

“I won, you know. Now you must honorably, because you have honor, leave them alone for at least a few months. I’ve earned it.”

“You are not a gracious winner, my love.”

“Oh, does that mean you’re a sore loser? I promise not to rub it in your face too much.” He covers the hand resting on his stomach with one of his own.

“Failure provides opportunities for improvement, dearest. Next time, I will forgo giving you the option to choose. I am ashamed that I forgot how your self-preservation instincts are nonexistent.” He sucks lightly on the nape of Tim’s neck. “I know better now that next time I must drug you, next time I must have my men isolate you in a place far away so any plan of mine can proceed without your delightful interference.”

“Can we not talk about next time?” Right now he doesn’t want to think of all the things that could and very well would be on the horizon. Doesn’t want to think of backup plans to the whole spirited away scenario. Not right now.

“If that what you wish, my beloved.”

A snort, “Besides a closed window?”

“Besides a closed window,” Ra’s agrees, starting to entangle their legs together. “I have no desire to leave your side tonight.”

“...Good.” Slowly, Tim is lulled by the presence of the demon giving him what he needs to fall asleep. It’s horrible how dependent his body has become on Ra’s. That might be Ra’s’ most successful diabolical plan yet.

Just before he’s done for, Ra’s whispers,

“One day, Timothy...I will not stop. I will follow through and wring your neck. Do you understand me correctly?”

“I do...I wouldn’t have it any other way. You know that. Now go to sleep.”

“Goodnight, my fair one.”

“Night, Ra’s.”

Tim dreams of frogs and scorpions. Of them at the bottom of the pond, the two floating motionless in the current...but floating together.

It is a good dream.

#Ra'sTim #caught au #my writing #fic rec #bittersweet #tim drake #ra's al ghul #putting this in more than one place

268 notes · View notes

ryodan · 7 years

Note

I am conflicted about sasusaku. I shipped it hardcore when I was younger then bore resentment toward him when he defected and caused my queen sm pain. Now, though, I adore and cherish Sasuke as a member of team7 and a character. In SS pairing there are things that he does that makes me iffy. I'm not at all blind to his affections to Sakura but like when he put her in a genjutsu of him stabbing her… he could've put her in lala land but instead stabbed her. Why though? Im so conflicted. Help?

See, to be honest with you this is the kind of ask that can always get me stumped and it’s the reason why I have never argued with a Sakura stan about SasuSaku. I always mention this as if it weren’t obvious enough; I am a Sasuke stan. Before even being a fan of the series and before being any type of shipper, first and foremost, I am always just a little shit here for Sasuke. Asking me questions like ‘did Sakura deserve better from Sasuke?’ ‘did he hurt my queen?’ won’t get you the greatest answer from a Sakura stan’s POV, and that is why ic you have not noticed most my posts/answered asks are from Sasuke’s POV or are just me defending her against asshats with double standards shitting on her for caring for him; or just defending her with no context to SS. This question gets me thinking and I am not sure my answer will satisfy you. However, Let me try to do this to the best of my ability.

‘Did Sakura deserve better?’

Short answer: yes, but it’s not really a sasusaku thing.

Did Sasuke leaving the village cause pain?

Yes, of course it did. When someone you care about to the point of feeling like you’ve become a family is suddenly out of your life it hurts like hell, both Naruto and Sakura can relate. Heck, even Kakashi who had become an almost father figure to them can.

However, put yourself in Sasuke’s shoes, he is a 12 year old child who has been manipulated into carrying the moral burden of his family’s massacre since the age 7. Seven is such a MALLEABLE age, his brain was literally molded like clay and he was taken advantage of since a very influential age. Since age seven sasuke viewed avenging his family to be the sole purpose he was allowed to live, he literally viewed himself to be someone not worthy of killing for five years of his life. The fact that he came so far during his time with T7 is a miracle in it’s own right, he was emotionally healing with them. It got to a point where even Orochimaru’s influence using the curse mark was weakening because he loved these 2 so much

And then this comes along

In the same scene, sasuke is stripped of both his pride and his sanity.

Having not only been shown his own parents and clan being murdered on repeat for twenty four hours but also beaten bloody to get reminded of his own weakness.

He trained all this time, thought himself getting physically and mentally stronger only to end up in this state

And he ended being even further manipulated into hatred

That day left him out of commission in the hospital for the time period naruto spent learning the rasengan and looking for tsunande; he was unconscious the entire time, and it was not even the physical attack that knocked him out, but rather, the mental ones.

Naruto took about four and a half weeks to learn the Rasengan

Despite all of this, he still wanted to slip out the village without hurting anyone’s feelings face to face. Sakura and Naruto both chased after him because they both loved him and did not think he was making the right decision by leaving. I’d like to highlight, sasuke himself said the characters misunderstood his motivations; his arc was never about just revenge, but also it’s been about justice. I truly feel for both Sakura and Naruto who were hurt by their loved one leaving; I cried during the confession, and God knows how much I cried during Sasuke and Naruto’s fight. But, it’s possible to feel for both of them while being objective, and in all honestly I find Sasuke perfectly justified in leaving and in fighting Naruto who instigated the fight himself.

Sakura got lucky with this

And I’d like to mention that Sasuke not once: interrupted her, belittled her feelings, called her stupid for loving him or anything of the sort. He respected her feelings and he had enough affection to give a thank you for it. What should he have said? ‘Yeah no, only interested in revenge atm’? lie and say something like ‘I hate you’?

He opted for letting her know she has been in his memories and that he has grateful for everything

(Mind you this is a mistranslation, he said uzai meaning annoying)

He even gave her answers for why he is leaving.

And it’s not like he was not just as affected by leaving and hurting the people he cares about either..he was also giving up his only hope of happiness

But he was literally manipulated into this since age SEVEN

Naruto is upset his friend whom is one of his first bonds is leaving to Orochimaru who clearly has ulterior motives, not understanding that sasuke already knows that

Sakura is upset the boy whom her crush for has grown into love is leaving and isolating himself for a ‘revenge’ she does not realize isn’t the main thing on the table for him

Sasuke is upset about his brother who’s killed his family being out there and about leaving the people he’s grown to care so much about. Sasuke left his fight with Naruto remembering his family while shaking with the pain of loosing everything, so it’s hard for me to place sakura above him in this situation.

See what I mean by sympathy is given to everyone but there is clearly someone with a stronger footing in the situation?

What about the pain Sasuke caused because of what he was doing outside the village?

here is what sasuke was not justified on doing in terms of Konoha

He is justified in hating Konoha, and getting angry over the political tyranny and the nationalist views it had that got his clan massacred and then threw the burden of the situation on his brother. He simply had a period of chronic insanity intensified by his curse of hatred; and that only grew with his pain and by overusing his mangekyo that comes at the price of insanity and vision.

His logic was a huge 180 from the Sasuke we we’re used to. he was no longer someone who believed in no killing under any circumstance; but now is willing to kill opponents after giving them a fair warning, since Konoha, whom he previously thought to be a good place can do it, and Itachi whom he previously believed to be evil but is now considered ‘perfect’ (god do i have my issues with itachi) had done it, it’s no longer an off the table option for him..He essentially had an existential crisis (paired with a panic attack that left him unconscious) that left his moral code completely shifted.

But you also have to understand his pain

even Kakashi who got this from him

acknowledged that while sasuke might be in the wrong, he was still a victim of his surrounding situation (god i love kakashi)

Speaking of murder eyes, Sakura still got lucky she got off with what she got off with while dealing with such an unstable person

Sasuke might be in the wrong; but expecting him not to retaliate when he knows she is out here, wearing her konoha head band and official cape, trying to kill him is pretty?????? She wanted to kill him, but he still gave her a chance (which ofc she would not take, she is not going to kill an innocent person) no murder eyes involved until it was clear to him what his intentions were. At this point, even sakura knew he was very far into the rabbit hole

he even softens a little when shes all like : ) ill betray konoha 4 u bb

Sasuke has never instigated a murder on sakura that she did not start herself, by ninja standards totally justifiable; they are 2 fighters meeting on field. This is not me saying Sakura is a bad person for attacking Sasuke, she too had full rights

*when sasuke attacked her team mates she wanted to fight him and bring him back home

* when sasuke could have had a war starting in his name, started attacking villages and ‘joined’ a terrorist organisation

Given all these circumstances they both had rights to fight each other

Sad, but true

What about the war arc?

There is good things

Misunderstood things, due to mistranslations. Sasuke asks her literally ‘if you heard what can you do?’ and she does not answer because she couldn’t do much in that situation. He was not scolded on being a bully like some anti-sasuke folk want it to be, he was scolded on not being a team player.

The bad scenes include the lava pit comment which naruto called him out on as a bitch ass liar (he deserved that one tbh)

And of course the genjutsu. See, I don’t try to justify it and if a sakura fan dislikes sasuke and sasusaku because of it I can’t tell them anything.

I can go in circles saying ‘oh but he cared! he was trying to cut off every bond to enter true darkness! he cared about her so much and the only way to ensure she writes him off forever is to do a violent type! naruto got murder!! she would have got hurt! he was preventing her getting physically hurt!’ and it’s all true but it does not answer ‘did sakura deserve that for just asking him not to kill the 5 kage and sit his ass down?’ because the answer to that is no; under no circumstance was he justified to do that, as commented on by kakashi.

But it’s important to remember at this point sakura is not trying to get in a romantic relationship with him, had that been the case it would have been THAT much more problematic, she was just trying to help.

You start asking fundamental questions if you ask ‘should she and naruto chase him to help?’ Sasuke asked them multiple times not to but at this point team 7 has become family. They could not just sit still and watch someone they cared about so much fuck up his own life and the life of others.

To Sasuke team 7 was hope and love after loss, to naruto they were the people who saved him from the darkness, to kakashi it’s the light at the end of the tunnel and to Sakura it’s where she grew up, where she faced life for what it is and arguably after ino were her first friends who helped her blossom into who she is. They really did not want to give up on that.

With all that in mind, I find it hard to believe these two could give up on sasuke.

He viewed them as family too, he too understands too well that the love you have for your family; the selfless, unconditional love that can cause a hell of suffering

Even a god believed there was hope.

When sasuke’s ideology stemmed from his beliefs that were about common interest above personal feelings he said this

and this

After everything, he had seen no reason for her to continue loving him; and it does not matter how he feels, since they have no common interest; he’s too busy trying to take over the world and she is thinking of a happy ending full of regained bonds

and he was right! Sasuke and Naruto officially ended the cycle of hatred begun by Kaguya and her grandchildren, and that’s when sasusaku got together.

had sasuke not been genuinely sorry I would have boarded off this ship, but he was.

a romantic relationship only officially happened after this, even after sasuke stayed in konoha for a year after the war and whatever happened between them happened, he still did not allow himself a chance to enjoy these things because he was working off his sins.

In fact, in Shinden (I own it) it’s revealed he is working on himself because he was afraid of having intimate relationships without going off the rails again, despite longing to see team 7 again. What I am trying to get to is: whatever punishment you want inflicted on sasuke, don’t worry he’s inflicting on himself/the world is inflicting it on him,,in fact I reckon this poor kid deserves a break, some tomato soup and a good tight hug.

What about romantic sasusaku?

SasuSaku happened under great, healthy conditions and it’s not like sasuke is incapable of making sakura happy. You can only imagine (sadly no bitch is animating it) how much happiness she felt travelling around with a happy, free of hate sasuke and I 1000% believe he did his best to make her happy and I reckon it worked since she seems chipper despite the circumstances in gaiden…must have been one really good trip to have it’s after effects lingering for 12 years LOL

He makes her happy and she loves him and loves seeing him happy, and she has that forever now so I don’t really think Sakura is sad to end up with Sasuke and really neither should you

What does sakura deserve?

- More fights as given to her male counterparts to show her amazing skills, we want to see the genjutsu skills she’s renowned for

- More medical ninja scenes, the Kankuro one was iconic and was literally one of the most epic moments in the SERIES; more of the stuff showing her intellect please

- Her personal arc to be expanded on just as her male counterparts

- To be involved in more important information just like her male counterparts, the entire sasuke fiasco could have been avoided and could have opened a door for some deep sasusaku moments

- Her emotional moments were the type that give you chills, more of those just as her male counterparts

- An animation studio that does her justice in animation

- An animation studio that uses fillers to expand on her, not one that pulls shit like this to make her look immature and unlikable

- A fanbase not full of ugly sexist boys who hate on her unnecessarily

- A fanbase not full of insecure self inserty girls who hate her for being in place of their self insert

- A better fucking plot for Gaiden

But, don’t take it out on sasuke or sasusaku man, don’t take it out on something you like. I love the judgmental couple that overcame everything.

Ultimately whether you believe she deserved better from Sasuke is completely up to how much you are willing to interpret both characters evenly. And ultimately, whether you like the dynamic of the ship or chose it’s not for you, is also completely up to you..it’s atypical and I understand why it might not be someone’s cup of tea. I only get annoyed when it’s unnecessary bashing of the relationship and the characters that sometimes extends to insulting real life people and their beliefs. Not cool.

Thanks for the ask and I hope this was not too sasuke centered hehe, also sorry for the late reply I have 78 asks in my box and it’s very hectic as I also have studying and socializing to keep up with.

Thank you again!

#sasusaku #sasuke uchiha #sakura haruno #pro sasuke #pro sakura #pro sasusaku #naruto uzumaki #kakashi hatake #team 7 #naruto #anonymous

221 notes · View notes