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godsofmonster · 4 years

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Bangtan MC ≽ III.

Reader x Bangtan- Motorcycle Club

Word Count- 8.2k

Warnings- sexual content, death, murder, guns, drugs, violence, betrayal, mentions of suicide, mentions of rape, etc.

For as long as I can remember back, I always wanted to be in a motorcycle club. Since I was six years old, the only thing on my mind was getting my hands on a Harley and a cut. I was a wolf, a wild cur, cut from the pack with bloodstained on my fur. Every wrong has marked a debt because a beaten dog never forgets.

The remainder of my night was spent in a dirty, cheap motel across town. I couldn’t really afford anything better. I even dared to return to my father’s home to pick up some of my old clothes. There wasn’t much leftover either.

I was both, mentally and materially exhausted. Despite this, sleep hadn't seemed like a reasonable option for me. Instead, I laid on the stiff mattress and dreaded the morning light.

Morning came all the same, through the broken blinds of the room.

The moments between having my eyes closed, and opening them, were lost time. I had no sense of how long I had been laying there. Hours must have gone by.

That was until my phone rang at 10 am exactly. My limbs felt heavy at the first movement toward the phone. It was the phone call that I was waiting for. The one that would determine my next move.

"Agent (Y/L/N), did you rest well?"

I placed my cell on speakerphone and tossed it on the crummy bed.

"As good as could be expected," I answered, swinging my legs over the bed edge.

"I'm sorry to hear that," He didn't have to be so polite, I thought. I tested the strength of my legs and stood on them. "Do you need me to fill you in on the Camilo Cartel?"

"I'm familiar, I helped the administration track their movements into California," I explained my prior knowledge while walking toward the bag I packed. I scavenged through the outdated clothing I wore in my youth. "I had no idea his men moved so far North already."

"Miguel Camilo is an ambitious man." I settled on an old t-shirt. "He's been flooding his heroin and cocaine into almost all of the California prisons."

"Except for Pelican Bay which is still controlled by the PB." The Pure Brotherhood was the largest gang of Neo-Nazis on the West coast. They controlled the drug trade until the Camilo Cartel began to expand out of Northern Mexico. "Three of them came to shoot up my father's house. They killed a boy and injured four other people."

"That was just a warning. They aren't happy that Bangtan is dealing guns to both them and the cartel."

My father started running guns for his Russian connections early on in the club's life. It was just supposed to be a short favor but the money spoke too loudly. At the time, the PB was heavily trafficking drugs through Blackburn from Pelican Bay. However, they made an agreement, that why would stop dealing in Blackburn, in exchange for Bangtan selling them guns.

"I'm sure you are aware, that since the settlement in 2018, Pelican Bay has become the service network for the drug distribution from California to its surrounding states."

That was a sick understatement.

"The Pacific Northwest is drowning in methamphetamine because of the PB's connection at Pelican Bay," I responded, rather sorely. It was a combination of anger, knowing that the club had gotten themselves directly involved. Also, a rage drove from personal experience.

I tossed the clothes I had collected on the bed, alongside my phone. Agent Romero was silent for a time, following the tone of my tongue.

"I was informed you took part in the one-year investigation that saw the raid of 10 drug dens in Seattle last year." His voice became finer. It was almost as if he was being cautious with his information. "You made the connection between the dealers and the PB."

I took a seat on the foot of the bed and remained soundless. I didn't want to take the credit for that.

"Everyone already suspected it led back to them..." I refused to.

"But you knew that the firearms that were confiscated, during the raid, had come from Bangtan."

I didn't expect him to understand why I wasn't proud of this. How could I be? When I had to see the consequences of the club's activities outside of Blackburn. The DEA confiscated 37 pounds of meth and 27 pounds of heroin that day. We really did only care for our own. The rest of the world could burn.

"Agent (Y/L/N)?" He called.

I hummed as a reply.

"You are our best hope. I need to know that you can go through with this," He said sternly. But I understood, there could be no room for hesitation in an operation like this. "Not only because of your personal involvement with the club but because of your history of drug addiction."

My life had taken many unexpected turns after I moved to Seattle. I fought against everything I knew and had an extreme appetite for destruction. If you had the money, then Seattle had your disease. Slipping into darkness had never been so easy.

"I've been clean for five years, agent," I reminded him.

I had a regularly scheduled drug test every 90 days through a hair sample. It was a rare exception to the DEA, but my personal experience was beneficial to them. "I also haven't been in contact with the club in over seven years."

I stood back on my feet, taking a hold of the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head.

"I understand. For now, I need you to stay close to the club." I took the phone in one hand and my clothes in the other. "I'll be flying in from Virginia tomorrow, we will discuss further details, in person."

"Yes, sir."

He hung up the phone after that. I was left to unwind, once again.

This time I stepped toward the bathroom, leaving the stuff in my hands on the countersink. The bathroom was, at the very least, clean compared to the rest of the room.

I turned on the water to the shower and gave it time to heat up. I continued to undress myself, anticipating the sweet relief of the hot water. With the remainder of my clothing scattered on the floor, I heard my phone vibrate behind me.

I imagined that it was agent Romero. However, when I looked at the screen I found the message coming from an unsaved number. The same unsaved number that Namjoon called me from two days ago.

I didn't expect to be starting work this soon.

The second I turned off the engine on my bike, Namjoon was already waiting for me at the doorway of his home. I didn't see any other bikes in the driveway, except for Jaeeun's car.

I was honestly hoping that she wouldn't be home.

"You're late." Was the first thing out of his mouth.

"I came from across town- there was traffic," I explained, even though it couldn't have been more than ten minutes past three.

He moved aside and let me step first into his house. The front door opened to his living room. There I was met with an unfortunate appearance by Jaeeun. There was only an everlasting smirk or frown on this woman's face. When it came to me, a frown was her default.

"You said this was important?" I turned around to see Namjoon closing the door.

"Yeah," Namjoon quietly remained, his fingers brushed their way through his hair. There was a stillness in the room that no one seemed to want to face.

All I could do was stand there and watch as he calmly stepped further into the room. Before I could ask him to elaborate, there was another set of footsteps that came in from the hallway.

"Ms.(Y/n),"

I came face to face with my father's attorney. He received me with a friendly smile, extending his hand out to me in the process.

"Richard," I was startled by his visit.

"I'm sorry to meet again under these circumstances." His presence was eerily similar to when my mother passed away. Then his appearance began to make sense.

"My father's will?"

Richard gently nodded his head, the look of sympathy easily displayed on his features. He slowly gestured both Namjoon and me to join Jaeeun on the couch.

Namjoon offered himself the seat between his mother and I. While Richard took the single armchair facing our direction. A round coffee table stood between us. Richard drew a leather briefcase from the floor and placed it on the glass surface.

There was a feeling of dread emitting from my chest, making it feel heavy and stiff. My palms ran over the fabric of my jeans at the sound of the briefcase latches opened.

He slipped out a single piece of paper, the delicate material folded like a letter. Richard cleared his throat,

"The purpose of our meeting here today is the reading of the final testament of the deceased. Including, the distributions of assets and beneficiary claims." He took a moment to look at each of us. "With all of your permission, I will begin,"

We all gave our approval for him to begin.

I didn't know what to expect.

I, resident of the state of California, county of Blackburn, and being sound of mind and memory; do hereby make, publish, and declare this to be my last will and testament.

At the time of executing this will, I have widowed and have remarried to Jaeeun Kim. Also at the time of this will, I recognize only two legitimate children.

(Y/F/N). My biological daughter from my first marriage, now deceased.

Namjoon Kim. My legal son from my current marriage to Jaeeun Kim.

For my wife, I leave you with the remaining balance of our joint bank account, as well, as our matrimonial home. All titles and deeds will be changed under your name as the sole owner of the property.

For my son, after being a long time employee and business partner, I leave you as the owner of The House Of Cards.

Finally, for my daughter, I leave you with the remaining balance of my separate savings account, as well, as my 2003 Harley-Davidson Dyna Super Glide Sport and my 1990 Harley-Davidson Fatboy.

When I turned 18, there was nothing more that I wanted than that old Fatboy. I never thought that finally getting it would feel so meaningless.

I didn't plan to be out for long after being at Namjoon's house. We didn't say much to each other after Richard had left, I even left the house without any insults from Jaeeun. However, before leaving, Namjoon asked me to meet him at the bar to take a look at my father's bikes.

When I arrived in the parking lot of the bar, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook were in mid-conversation around their bikes. I parked my Harley right beside Jimin's.

"Hey," I called out to them. My fingers clicked off the straps of my helmet and let it hang around the handlebar.

When I stepped off my bike, I was instantly greeted by Jimin, who unexpectedly pulled me into a hug. I was somewhat taken back, his arm was hooked tightly around my waist. Of course, I returned the embrace, but at the same time, made awkward eye contact with Taehyung.

"What's going on?" I asked a bit flustered as Jimin began to pull away.

"Namjoon called us in," Jungkook replied. There was a smirk in his words as if he knew something that I didn't. I glanced at Taehyung, who remained silent by his side. I never did understand Jungkook's sense of humor. I brushed it off nevertheless.

"He told us to bring your old man's Harley," Jimin also stated. He stepped with me, as I came closer into the semicircle that they were gathered in. I turned my head and looked at him rather confused.

"Bring it from where? The shop?" I questioned.

I watched Jimin lean against his bike. "I thought it would be at the pound,"

He pushed strands of his hair away from his forehead, taking a moment to look away from me and waited to speak. I could see the gears begin to turn in his head and he glanced at the other boys for guidance.

No one said anything.

"His Dyna got roughed up a few weeks ago- he left it in the shop for Taehyung and me to fix," He carefully explained. "He was riding his Fatboy the day of the accident."

My life seemed to be a never-ending joke of irony. The sudden feeling of gloom overcame me prompting me to switch my gaze to the pavement. The bike that I had wanted was the bike that he had left me, but it was also the bike he had died in. I didn't say much after that.

We stood in silence together for a few more minutes. That was until Taehyung's phone rang and notified us that Namjoon was waiting for us in the garage.

When we got there, the garage was opened, to a truck parked in reverse. The white truck was branded with the name of Jimin's old man’s auto shop. The sound of the passenger door slamming was followed by Yoenjun coming around the corner. The young prospect moved quickly to unlatch the backdoors of the trailer.

I advanced toward the truck, somewhat, anticipating to get a look at my father's Dyna.

Jungkook came up to lend Yoenjun a hand with the ramp. The loud piece of metal came crashing down on the asphalt. If this had been anyone else's bike, Yoenjun would have just ridden it from the shop. But they were being extra cautious out of respect.

Yoenjun came out of the dingy trailer with his hands guiding the bike down the ramp. The black beauty reflected shapes of the fluorescent lights. I stared at the beautiful wide front of the Dyna that reminded me why I got my Softail.

"What do you think?" Yeonjun asked while he pushed down the kickstand, allowing the bike to stand on its own.

"It looks brand new," I said, running my hand over the cold black metal of the fuel tank. "What was wrong with it?"

I asked, peering over to Jimin and Taehyung.

"The headlight was broken," Jimin revealed. "There were also some scratches and dents."

I nodded my head. I couldn't see any evidence of scratches, much less dents, that were difficult to get rid of without the right tools.

"Prospect," Namjoon called from behind me. Yoenjun's eyes shot up in question. "Did you get the Fatboy out of the pound?"

"Yes, pres," He said, quickly moving his feet back up the ramp.

My eyes wandered into the darkness of the back of the trailer. I couldn’t see anything but I heard the hunk of metal rattling against the wall. I could see why Namjoon called Jungkook here, he ran up to help the prospect with the weight of the bike.

I wasn't prepared for what I was about to witness.

My heart dropped into my stomach at the sight. The front of the bike was completely smashed inward. Jungkook was supporting it from the front, while Yoenjun steered it from the back. The entire fork and front wheel were crushed to the left. So far deep, that it even rammed into the gas tank.

"Oh god..." My hands tried to mask the cry that fell from my mouth. The tears fell faster from my eyes than I could acknowledge them.

"Hey," Jimin came to my aid. He rested his hand on my back and tried to comfort me.

"I'm honestly not sure how salvageable it is, (Y/n)." Namjoon also walked toward me. I felt him linger over my shoulder, all I could do was merely glance his way as I tried to control my composure. "Maybe Jimin and Taehyung could try to-"

"No," I managed to take in a shaky breath, running my fingers along the wet stains of my cheeks. "I can fix it."

I said mostly to myself. I had this irrepressible urge in the back of my mind to repair the bike myself. My father had taught me everything I needed to know about motorcycles. This was my chance to prove myself.

"I might need some help though."

I was well aware that this would at least be a two-person job, the poor thing couldn't even stand on its own. There were also tools that I didn't have at my current disposal.

"Whatever you need, love," Jimin whispered, his hand slowly slipping off my back.

I suddenly realized how close Namjoon and Jimin were standing to me. I was feeling a little enclosed between the two of them. So I took a moment to excuse myself from the group.

My back rested into the warm redbrick of the building. A deep breath of late summer air filled my lungs. I could almost view the sun starting to head toward the horizon. Its surrounding sky was beginning to orange with heat.

I was standing just outside of the garage. Everyone had gone back into the bar to get a drink. Except, for Yoenjun who the boys had sent back to the auto shop.

It seemed every day that I spent here was just another miserable recognition of my castaway. I hated feeling this way. I hated feeling like all I could do was complain about my father's abandonment. But goddamn it, he was all that I had.

I thought I was all he had too.

I imagined maybe one day he would tell me that he regretted sending me away. But, even in his will, he left me with nothing to stay here for; not his bar, not my mother's house, just some money, and a motorcycle to run away on.

"You alright?"

Jimin always seemed to catch me in the middle of a crying session.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, pushing myself off the wall. I forced him a smile and decided to prompt another subject. "I hope you're as good as a mechanic as you say you are."

He returned my smile, a more genuine one, and followed me with his eyes as I moved back into the garage.

"Me?" He challenged, as we both stepped back toward the damaged bike, circling it. "I've been working in a shop for five years, what have you been doing?"

I shot him a glare and chuckled at his tease.

"Who do you think has been taking care of my bike all this time? The mechanics in Seattle are a joke." He laughed at my words, not doubting them for a moment.

I watched him watch me. His round lips held in an endearing smile as his eyes stared into me. I felt, at that moment, the same as he did. It was nice to spend moments like this, after all this time.

"Besides," I said, feeling bashful in his gaze. "I've worked on this bike a million times."

We had the Fatboy mounted on a hydraulic stand to get a better look below. Some of the pipes underneath were also severely damaged. But as long as the frame was still intact, I was pretty sure we could pull it off.

"We should start by removing the fork and wheel," Jimin said, his eyes wandering over the details of the bike. "I think that way we'll have more room to make sure that the frame isn't too damaged."

I agreed.

This model of Fatboy had a completely different frame than its modern counterpart. Trying to buy a new frame would easily cost over a grand.

"You know," Jimin sounded unsure. "this might cost more to fix than it's worth, (Y/n)."

I was well aware that it was reasonably true. However, my mind was already made up.

"I don't care what it costs."

Because I had nothing else. Repairing this bike was going to be my only sense of peace for the next couple of weeks.

Jimin stayed and helped me get started. Removing the front of this bike turned out to take a lot longer than expected. Jimin was a great help, and I had to admit, he probably knew a little more than I did. We ran into a lot of difficulties due to the metal that was bent together. We had to remove it without causing more damage to the parts that it was pushed into. Jimin was pleasant company, nonetheless.

"I can't believe you dated her," I laughed under my breath, trying to keep my hands steady.

"Okay, 'date' is a strong word," He attempted to justify himself but it was too late in my head. "I was intoxicated 80% of the time I was with her."

The Allen head screwdriver I was using to loosen the lower triple fasteners almost slipped from my hands. Jimin's hand gripped around the bottom of the right fork, ready for it to come undone.

"That doesn't matter!" I was laughing so hard that my eyes watered. "The damage is done, Jimin. Who knows what kind of crotch-eating virus she gave you."

"Hey, I'll have you know that she got regular check-ups."

I hummed and rolled my eyes. I proceeded to also loosen the fastener on the top of the fork. I looked down at Jimin, to make sure his grip was still tight before freeing the fork. It should have slid right out the moment the screw came out but it didn't.

"Damn," He said, carefully, removing his hand.

"It must be jammed." I groaned, stepping back and wiping my forehead of any sweat. Jimin straightened himself out too.

"We can just find a way to remove it tomorrow," I sighed. I was honestly already worn out, and ready to call it quits for the night. However, determined, Jimin took a closer look at the fork.

I watched as he, without a word, kneeled to dig around the toolbox. He was attentive as he picked out a flat-bladed screwdriver and came back to the bike. Jimin pushed the screwdriver in between the gap of the lower triple.

"Try to pull on it." He muttered, to me as he was using all of his strength to loosen the bent metal.

I wrapped my hand around the metal rod and tried to tug on it. It made a rasping sound as it was starting to move. Then the entire weight came undone, it almost slipped out of my hand, but Jimin was fast too, also holding on to it.

"Wow~ Jimin~" I was pleasantly surprised.

"I know what I'm doing, love," Jimin smirked, proud of himself, he took the heavy rod from my hand.

A relieved sigh left his nose as he placed the fork next to the previous one we removed. Along with other parts of the bike, like the wheel, that was close to unrecognizable.

I reached into my pocket and checked the time.

The effects of not sleeping the night before were starting to come through. It was barely 8 o'clock and I was exhausted.

"I hope you're hungry because I just ordered some food," Jimin called to me. I looked up from my phone to see him showing me his food delivery app.

"Oh, Jimin," I grumbled, putting my phone back in my pocket. "I was just about to head out."

He raised his brow at me in questionable doubt.

"You already ate?" He maintained his eyes on me while cleaning his greasy hand on the hem of his white t-shirt.

"No," My eyes accidentally caught a glimpse of his abdomen, which was shockingly healthy underneath. "But I'm not very hungry."

Worried that I was staring, I switched my attention to another part of the room. Jimin appeared to move close as a result.

"Come on, it's Chinese food from that place you like." He insisted.

I would have continued to refuse him, although my stomach appeared to respond to the contrary. It rumbled at the memory of the Chinese food, causing Jimin to laugh at the sound.

"I guess I can eat," I admitted in defeat.

Jimin nodded his head and pushed the sleeves of his t-shirt over his shoulder. It appeared that he was making advances toward the door but I called him. "Do you mind if we eat here though? I don't really want to be around other people."

I wasn't sure if Namjoon had left with the others, or if he was just on the other side of the door. I was just enjoying Jimin's company without worrying about anything else.

"Sure, I don't mind." I was comforted to hear him say so.

Underneath a table, I found a couple of crate boxes. I carefully kicked two of them into the middle of the room. My aching legs relieved to finally sit down after three long hours. Jimin had his back turned to me as he washed his hands in the sink along the wall.

"Are you staying at Namjoon's house?" He suddenly asked, trying to make more conversation.

"No, thank god." A short chuckle came from my lips. Taking notice of the dirt on my hands, I ran my palms over the fabric of my jeans. "I don't need Jaeeun’s cold glare watching me every minute."

I could hear Jimin smirk.

"Yeah, she's intimidating as all hell." He stated. Turning back to face my direction, he shook the water off his hands, droplets falling to the cement floor. "You guys still aren't getting along?"

"You know we've never had," I said a little bitterly. Recalling back to all the time I spent in high school complaining about her to him.

"I know, but I thought that was just like a teenage thing." Jimin eyed the counter to his right, where he had previously left his cut to remain.

"Definitely not after the conversation we had yesterday." I jeered.

"She threatened you?" Jimin sounded surprised as he was slipping the leather around his shoulders.

"Let's just say, it was a passionate discussion," I hummed, deciding it wasn’t even worth mentioning and that it was time for me to wash my hands as well.

The plastic sink in the back used to be white, now it was grayed and falling apart. I tried my best not to touch it as I turned on the faucet and rubbed some dish soap in my hand.

"Is that why you left last night?"

My hands slowed down at his question. I didn't like the idea of having to lie to Jimin. He was the only person who made me feel like I could depend on him. That meant a great deal to me however, I didn't really have any other alternative.

"I didn't feel very welcomed once you left," I muttered, just loud enough for him to hear. I continued scrubbing underneath my fingernails. "I also didn't feel like celebrating Namjoon's coronation."

It was a joke but I knew Jimin could hear the slight sourness in my tone. I tried to shake off as much of the water from my hands before turning back to Jimin. "Did Hoseok give you a rough night with his new VP patch?"

I joked while reaching for a roll of paper towels under the sink.

"No," He said calmly, "But Taehyung sure did."

I wasn't quite sure if I had heard him correctly. Looking at his facial expression was meaningless as he remained unbothered.

"Taehyung?" I asked for clarification.

"That's right," He sang as I walked back in his direction, taking the same seat as before. "Namjoon wanted someone different than him, Taehyung is as different as you can get."

I had never thought to compare the two. I doubt if I even knew enough about Taehyung to relate him to Namjoon.

"Does it bother you?" I was curious.

"Taehyung being VP? Nah." Jimin answered. "I'm actually pretty relieved,"

Jimin stopped to lick his lip, thinking about what he was about to say. "There is no doubt in my mind that Namjoon will be a good leader. He's smart as hell, but sometimes- I think he can lose sight of things."

I was deeply intrigued by what Jimin thought. His opinion was unbiased, and he only spoke for what was best for the club. "Taehyung has never been afraid to call him out on it. Taehyung and your old man, that is."

The Vice President of a club was the middle ground between the President and the members of the charter. Any questions, comments or concerns from the other members are brought to the VP's attention. It was hard for me to imagine my father ever disagreeing with Namjoon. He never did so in my presence, anyway. I wondered when that all began to change. I wondered if it had anything to do with the drugs.

Jimin noticed that mentioning my father brought me down easily, he saw me lost in my own head, so he changed the subject.

"You know," Jimin pushed himself off the box seat. "I know why Jaeeun doesn't like you."

"Oh?" I smiled gently. This ought to be good. "Enlighten me, please."

Even though I could name a few reasons myself, Jimin always had an interesting perspective.

He returned my smile and decided to let the anticipation linger in the air. I watched him slowly walk toward the refrigerator that sat in the corner of the room. He pulled the door opened and leaned in to retrieve two bottles of beer that rested at the very bottom shelf. He turned around to face me and shut the door with his foot.

"You two are exactly the same,"

I looked at him unimpressed, with such a simple answer. Also, a little offended by his assumption.

"Hear me out," He requested while holding the bottles between his fingers, using his free hand to dig into his pocket. "Jaeeun is intimidated by your character. She's constantly trying to put you down because she knows you don't let things go- just like she doesn't. "

"Who says I don't let things go?" Jimin laughed at my question.

"(Y/n), just yesterday you said you've waited seven years to come back home."

Ouch.

Jimin pulled a lighter from his jeans. He used the end of it as leverage to snap open one of the bottles. "You only threaten someone that you feel threatened by."

Jimin offered me the beer, and I took it thankfully. His words sunk in.

"Well, you know what they say," I pushed my lips against the glass, taking a large gulp.

"What?" He asked while sitting back beside me.

"A beaten dog never forgets," I said earnestly.

Jimin stared at me for what seemed like an entire minute, but ultimately, he tipped his bottle toward me.

"That, we don't."

He said as I met him halfway. Our bottles clanged together before we took another drink.

"There is actually something I've been wanting to ask you," He suddenly said after clearing his throat.

"What is it?"

"Yesterday... You make it sound as if you've wanted to come back this entire time," I was dreading this question. "Why didn't you?"

How could I even begin to explain to him such a story? "I know you had problems with your family and maybe that's why you left, "

He sounded hurt. "But I thought we were close enough for you to have told me. It just seemed so unlike you."

He knew me better than I gave him credit for.

"I would have told you." I wanted to make that clear to him first. "I didn't want to leave but my father sent me away."

"How come?"

I stared into his eyes and knew that he did not recognize the man I spoke of. But this was the reality.

"Because," I sighed and felt unworthy of holding his gaze. "I couldn't let things go..."

My entrance to the bar was met by a pleasant absence of people. It was well past 10 o'clock and yet the room was entirely empty. Not only that, but the entire place looked as if a tornado had spit it out. The chairs and tables were knocked down and spread all over the floor. The back doors of the club's conference room were broken in and barely hanging on. Though I couldn't even see down the hall, I could imagine it was a similar story.

The only soul that remained stood tall behind the bar, wiping down the counters against the wall.

"What the hell happened here?" Namjoon hadn't heard me come in. He looked over his shoulder and found me walking toward him.

"Pigs had a day off," He said, setting down the damp rag and turning his body to speak with me.

He sounded unimpressed, and so was I. Blackburn police were always trying to find dirt on the club. It wasn't the first time they had come in with their warrants; it wouldn't be the last time either. However, the only thing that they left with was their tails tucked between their legs. It's just the way things were.

"Where is he?" I asked, knowing he knew who I meant.

I took the leather stool right in front of him. Resting an elbow on the surface of the bar, I reached for an ashtray with my closest hand.

"My mom's Cadillac broke down again," I hummed, barely surprised.

I drew a pack of almost empty smoke from my back pocket. Bringing the carton to my mouth, I wrapped my lips around one of the cigarettes which was left exposed by the missing cover.

"She needs to take that piece of shit to a mechanic," I muttered, fumbling with my jeans, trying to find a lighter.

"He's going to take a look at it in the garage," He replied, reaching behind him and then placing a cheap lighter in front of me.

"I mean a real mechanic," I said, taking the dark blue lighter in my hands and using the light to light my addiction. "Once the machine surpasses three wheels, he has no idea what he's doing."

"It's not that much of a difference,"

I scoffed at him.

"How would you know?" I urged, taking a sharp drag of my square, the end of it lighting up like Roudoff's nose. "You don't even know what's wrong with your bike half of the time."

"That's not true," He continued to gather glasses up and down the bar space.

"My old man and I are the only ones who have ever touched your bike," I told him bitterly, hoping he would recall me having to repair his bike a few weeks ago after he had left the gas sitting in the tank for too long.

Namjoon chose to ignore my comment.

"Why don't you pour me a drink instead?" I said after not getting a word from him. "You're good at that."

"You're 18," He replied as if that meant anything.

"And you're 19 working as a bartender but, here we are."

Namjoon shot me an annoyed look, and I found it satisfying. A smirk grew on my lips as he placed his current glass in front of me. The impact of crystal glass against the wood seemed to ring on. His eyes never left mine as he reached under the bar for a bottle of Jack.

"Pour it yourself." He spoke dangerously. My sadistic mind, only finding humor in his tough-guy act.

"Well then," I grabbed the bottle by its neck and did the work myself. The brown liquor coming smoothly out of the metal pour spout, into the bottom of my glass. "Just because my old man lets you hang around the club, you're too good to pour me a drink now?"

I said only casually. It was a snide comment to myself, but of course, in the dead of silence, Namjoon caught an ear.

"What did you say?"

Based on his expression, I was sure that he heard me clearly. I nonchalantly blew a puff of smoke in his direction, his hard stare threatening to curse me. "You've got a fucking mouth on you,"

He fiercely set everything in his hands down on the counters behind him. I watched him come around the bar and walk past me. I seized my glass in the opposite hand from where my cigarette rested between my digits. Turning in my seat to keep my eyes on him, I had a feeling he had more to get off his chest.

"If anyone has to check their ego at the door, it's you, sweetheart." I took a sip of my drink as the bitter words left his lips. He began to pick up the chairs of the closest table to the bar. "Your biker princess entitlement is seriously getting under everyone's skin."

"Oh? Who is everyone, Namjoon?" I ridiculed him. Even though, in the tones of my voice, I was stung by his comment. "Your mother? Who has never needed a reason to not like me?"

I took in a breath of nicotine, realizing my voice was beginning to crack under my sentiment. "Or my father? Who's discarded everything I've done since you came in the picture?"

He appeared to be trying very hard to keep his composure from reaching a violent point.

"Your daddy issues aren't my problem," Namjoon slammed a chair down, the loud noise echoing off the ceiling of the bar. "I am not your goddamn problem!"

This has been one of the few times I had ever seen Namjoon be fueled by his anger. But I couldn't find it in me to care. In that instance, I felt completely lethargic about it all. "You aren't a member of this club. You don't know your place and that-!"

He stopped to breathe, to lower his voice before he did something bad. "That is your fucking problem."

It was strange that the moment his voice softened, I lost my temper.

"Son of a bitch," I muttered before rising to my feet. I clutched the drink tightly in my fist, using all of my force to hurl the glass at him.

Namjoon barely stepped out of the way on time. The shattering glass missed his face by mere inches, the alcohol trailed along the six feet of floor between us. I could feel my body tremble with wrath.

"I'm always wrong, aren't I?" I said, speaking more aggressively than before. "I don't ever listen, right?"

The pit of rage that coursed through me left me feeling lightheaded and with shortness of breath.

"Well guess what, sweetheart," I mocked, regaining dominance over my emotions. "It's in my nature. Just like the rest of you, I have a problem with authority."

I was acting exactly the way that my father raised me. I was a spitting image of everything he believed in. "And I am sick to death- of being crushed under the weight of selfish men who don't believe in anything."

Namjoon hadn't said a single word, he hadn't moved an inch of his cold face. I didn't know what he was thinking. I didn't care if he thought I was crazy or the saddest thing to walk the face of the earth.

It seemed that the more I tried to be who I was, the more I was denied. So, I began to question; why should I be the one to be discarded?

I dropped my cigarette on the floor, stepping on it as I walked in his direction. The room between us smelled of the cigarette I just put out, and the whiskey I didn't drink. I came to stand so close to him, the closest I had ever been.

He was significantly taller than I was, he towered over me like a mountain. I looked into his obscure eyes and questioned what made him so much better than me?

"My father thinks you're the greatest," My voice was barely a whisper full of venom. Namjoon was stiff in place as my fingers danced their way to the button of his jeans. His strong brows cut into his eyes that began to blacken. "Show me what makes you so goddamn special..."

He was on me in less than a second.

His lips pressed against my own with great intensity. His hands stroking their way down to my hips, where he urged them against him.

I couldn't even find a taunt on my lips as he stuck his tongue between them. It was warm and soft against mine. The taste of him sent shivers across my body. The rage he brought out of me went directly from my chest to the place between my legs.

My hands felt their way up to his rising torso. I cursed the thin fabric that kept me from scratching his skin. I settled for wrapping my arms around his neck, my hands sinking straight into the locks of his platinum hair.

He paused for the second I pulled at his roots, letting out a grunt of frustration before moving down to attack my vulnerable neck. His teeth drew moans from my mouth, my eyes fluttering closed at the mixture of kisses and bites.

He grew irritated by the clothes between us. His hands struggled to push me back, I lightly stumbled on my feet, Namjoon used his black eyes to search my trembling figure. He grabbed the collar of my blouse, ripping open most of the buttons in one yank. The lack of clothes underneath drove him wild.

His hands were on me again after that. He couldn't wait any longer and picked me up by my thighs. My hands impatiently began to push up his black shirt. Namjoon managed to locate the only standing table in the bar and dropped me upon it. His shirt came off the instant I hit the wood, I kept it beside me on the table.

"You're such a pretty girl," he hissed as I arched my chest toward him. His fingers handled the buckle of my belt before pulling my button undone. "But you’re so very, tough to please,"

I hated how much I loved to hear him talk to me. I pulled back into a heated kiss. My hands finally began to feel his creamlike skin under my fingernails. The feeling sends his skin to tremble under my touch as I kick off my shoes.

They tumbled to the ground and Namjoon found the waistband of my pants. His lips still pressing bruises against mine, I didn't want him to pull away. He did so to pull my pants down my legs, panties and all, leaving me almost completely bare on the table.

He leaned his damp forehead against mine. His eyes had a stronghold on my own as his hands rubbed the supple skin of my thighs.

"Is this what you wanted?" He asked, pulling me closer to the edge of the table. I gulped and took my breath all the same.

All I could give him was a panting whimper and nodding gesture.

But that was enough.

Namjoon palmed my heat, leaving my body wanting more, making it long for him. I gripped his broad shoulders, leveraging my hips closer to him. He took the suggestion and pushed his pants down his thighs. I didn't even get a glance at what he had to offer until he was pressing at my opening.

He left me breathless. I was a whining mess under the force of his hips.

"Shit," Namjoon's voice strained under the pleasure.

His fingers pressed into the skin of my hips, holding them in place as he pounded into me. I was struggling to keep my eyes open.

"Oh god..." I wished my voice hadn't trembled.

I was almost embarrassed at the noise that left my mouth, I begged him to shut me up. His mouth was addicting, each stroke of his tongue was like silk. My bare legs caressed along his, as I held back every urge to lock them around his waist.

The marks I was leaving along his back must have gotten painful because Namjoon grabbed a hold of my wrists. He pinned my hands flat on either side of me. This gave me enough room to lean back on them, offering him some room to explore. His lips were so full and smooth, I couldn't help but to want them all over me.

In this position, he leaned forward, making his thrust start to move at an angle. My eyes threatened to roll back at the new depth. His eyes relished in the display of my body. My breast stuck to the thin material of my blouse and moved at the pace of his hips.

"Oh! Namjoon..." Now that my hips were free from his hold, I began to roll them against him, almost uncontrollably.

He drifted forward to capture my lips, pressing a more delicate kiss into them. His hand slipped off my wrists and found their way to caress the skin of my cheek. Suddenly the lustful moans that had been leaving my mouth were replaced by sweeter ones. His touch was gentle, and I couldn't help but admit that his intimacy made me uncomfortable.

I took his bottom lip into my mouth and grazed it with my teeth. I saw his eyes open as he let out a low growl from the back of his throat. I pried my hand around his neck, my claws digging at the surface of his nape.

He immediately understood what I wanted and was not afraid to give it to me.

Namjoon hooked his arms around my legs, spreading my legs wider and pushing me further onto the table. I didn't think he could go any faster, but for once, I was happy he proved me wrong.

"Ah! Yes!" I cried.

That place deep inside of me he hit so flawlessly it made my eyes tear with joy. The sounds coming from my mouth were like evidence of that. I wanted to just shut my eyes and let the feeling consume me. However, he was an extraordinary sight before me.

Namjoon's head was slightly tossed back, eyes shut in concentration and bliss. His jaw clenched every time he tried to suppress one of his moans.

I tighten my walls around him, just to watch how his mouth opens with a groan.

"Fuck! You're so good." He was living a high life.

Our rapid breathing and ecstatic moaning filled the room. At his pace, he could have easily taken me to the top.

It was such a shame our time had to be cut short by a voice that was not our own.

"What the fuck is this!?" That was rage only his mother could spit.

Namjoon pulled out of me immediately as he heard his mother came in from the garage. I made sure to moan loud for her as he left me feeling empty inside.

Namjoon's body covered enough of me as I caught Jaeeun's murderous expression in my line of sight. My mind was still clouded by ecstasy but that wasn't the reason my lips wore a smile.

My father walked in moments later at the sound of Jaeeun's startle. He was just on time to catch Namjoon pulling up his pants, and my lower half covered by his black shirt.

Their expressions were priceless.

Namjoon could do no wrong in my father's eyes. He was the son he always wanted. I was hoping this would put a little strain on their relationship.

Masterlist ≽

#Bangtan MC #bts x reader #ot7 #bts #bts fanfic #bangtan scenarios #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #kim seokjin #park jimin #jeon jungkook #Jung HoSeok #min yoongi #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader

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tacticalchokehold · 4 years

Text

After Ever After

Rating:

Not Rated

Archive Warning

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

F/F

Fandom:

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)

Relationship:

Adora/Catra (She-Ra)

Read Here on AO3

Summary: Post-Finale fluff, restoring magic to the universe, Catra and Adora exploring their relationship, other characters appear. Etheria healing from Horde Prime's occupation, dealing with the planet's magic being restored. Is anyone going to put Hordak on trial for his war crimes? Yes, no? Ok.

How do you discover what normal is when all you've known your entire life is war and conflict?

Chapter 1: One Week Later

For the first time in a very long time, Adora awoke peacefully .

A week after defeating Horde Prime, the Best Friend Squad and the Princess Alliance had elected to take a vacation of sorts -- time off now that their largest threat any of them had ever could have even conceived in their lifetimes had been vanquished. Glimmer was taking this time to reacquaint herself and catch up with Micah; they had a lot to discuss. The other princesses returned to their kingdoms to rebuild and recoup, Entrapta accompanying Scorpia back to the Fright Zone to tackle the idea of rebuilding her kingdom. Not a prospect anyone thought Hordak would conform with, but the fact that he hadn’t been met with the same fate as Horde Prime, all things considered, he wasn’t in much position to object to the will of the Princesses without fear of obliteration.

Bow had left for the Whispering Woods after a couple of days to help his dads restore the library, their home, and move their supplies and equipment back out of the First Ones ruins they’d been hiding out in. Brightmoon Castle was… quiet, as of late, a stark contrast to the chaos that had been engulfing all of Etheria not even a month prior.

Laying on her back, Adora’s eyes fluttered open to stare up at the ceiling of her room in the castle. Sometimes even now, it still never felt exactly like home. But right then, she couldn’t have felt more at home, the sound of soft purring reaching her ears, a comforting weight on her chest and shoulder, a soft arm draped across her middle underneath the blankets. Groggy with sleep, she lifted a hand, arm half asleep with Catra’s head on the crook between her shoulder and left bicep. She started to card her fingers through Catra’s hair, nails gently scraping along her scalp, causing the relaxed rumbling coming from the other girl to kick up like a motor starting.

She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing, and lifted her head to look down at the foot of the bed, Melog curled up and downsized to its smaller blue form, still snoozing away just as its master was. Adora let her head fall back down onto her pillow with a soft sigh, taking a few more minutes just to… enjoy this. No battles to fight. No armies to dismantle. No interstellar conquerors to defeat. Just the early morning light filtering through the purple curtains, the smell of morning dew drifting to her nose from the partially open window.

Mornings in Brightmoon were so different from mornings in the Fright Zone. For starters, you wouldn’t even be able to see the sun through the industrial smog covering the skyline. The only way to tell time would be the digital clocks dotted over the doors of the barracks, mess hall, locker room, and nearly every other door down every other corridor. The Horde wanted to make sure you knew that time was a very precious commodity, and yours was limited if one didn’t bend to Hordak’s will. Nearly every morning started in the barracks with a CO hollering at the top of his lungs to wake the cadets up.

Adora recalled scrambling for her clothes, tying her hair up and shoveling a morning protein bar in her mouth, all while jogging to get to training. More often than not she’d have to stop to really make sure Catra woke up, shaking the girl at the foot of her bed by her shoulders and near-dragging her out the door.

But here? Now? They didn’t have to go anywhere. They didn’t have to answer to anyone. They had sort of just saved all of Etheria, and freed the entire universe from Horde Prime’s tyranny. They could afford to take a little break for the first time in their lives.

Adora was pulled from her thoughts by a stirring at her side. Her hand in Catra’s hair stilled, watching as she opened her mouth and yawned wide, brow furrowing and closed eyes scrunching up further. Sharp fangs gleamed, her ears twitching under Adora’s fingers. Catra blinked open her eyes, bleary and searching, landing on Adora’s face. They went wide for a moment, and she could feel her tense up, the arm around her middle tightening, claws pricking her skin through her tank top, the fur along her shoulders rising before Adora smiled wide.

“You’ve got awful morning breath, you know that?” Adora asked with a laugh, settling her arm around Catra’s shoulders and drawing her back in, hoping the touch would soothe her gut-reaction of fleeing. Seemed they both still couldn’t quite… believe it. Almost immediately Catra’s disbelief melted away, and she lifted a hand, pushing a palm into Adora’s cheek and shoving her face away.

“You’re one to talk,” she grumbled back, her voice rough with sleep as Melog got up from the foot of the bed and wandered up the bed towards the two of them. He laid across Catra’s hip as she rolled up onto her side, retrieving her arm from around Adora’s middle to prop herself up on her elbow. Adora mirrored her posture, pulling her arm back to rest her head in her palm, rolling onto her side to bring herself closer to her again, bumping their foreheads together briefly.

“Sleep okay?” she asked, letting blue eyes close to simply feel the peace in the air around them, quiet and tucked away from the rest of the world in their own little corner of paradise. A small smile curved Catra’s lips, and she leaned up, brushing the tip of her nose against hers, humming a simple affirmative response. Adora felt her heart leap when her face got closer, a modicum of disbelief still present every day that Catra loved her.

“You? You didn’t wake up thrashing at all,” Catra noted. Normally she woke up long before Adora did due to her tossing and turning, even occasionally on the receiving end of an unlucky swing in the dead of night.

“Yeah, actually. I feel… really well rested, actually,” Adora admitted with a short laugh, dropping her free hand between them. Catra’s touch reached for hers at the same time, their fingers finding each other on the mattress between them, folding her hand over the back of Adora’s and interlacing their fingers together. Adora lifted her hand to her mouth, letting her lips brush over Catra’s knuckles without much thought to it, glancing up at her face in time to see her blush at the motion, ears dropping back against her head.

“Ugh, you’re so gross,” Catra scoffed, pulling her hand away and giving her a light shove in the shoulder back before she sat up. Adroa grinned, sitting up behind her and getting up on her knees, draping her arms around Catra’s middle and resting her chin on her shoulder. She let her body rest against her back, leaning her weight onto Catra’s frame.

“This coming from the girl who licks stuff to claim it as hers?” Adora countered, giving her a light squeeze as Melog dropped from Catra’s lap onto the floor to wander over to the window and get a look outside. Catra was quiet for a moment, before she turned her head, licking the side of Adora’s face with an indignant noise.

“Catra!” Adora yelped, falling back slightly in her shock; but really, she should’ve seen that one coming. She wiped at her cheek with her arm, laughing, as Catra turned around and leapt on her, pushing her onto her back further. They devolved into tickling each other between Adora’s attempts to shove Catra’s face with her tongue sticking out away from her own, rolling back and forth. They only stopped when their wrestling landed them on the floor, breaking apart with a light “oof” before they both laughed it off.

“C’mon,” Adora said, getting to her feet, extending a hand down to Catra,”Let’s go grab breakfast.”

- - -

The large double doors to the dining room opened with a shove. Cleaned up and dressed, Adora was happy to see Glimmer and Micah already at the table, talking excitedly over full plates of breakfast. Micah straightened when the doors opened, and gave a light wave to the two as they entered, a warm smile on his face. He had taken to tying his long hair back rather than cutting it, dressed in relaxed regalia considering his daughter was officially the Queen. The Queen in question turned when he waved, and Glimmer grinned, a burst of glitter and light popping as she teleported over between Catra and Adora. Slinging her arms around their shoulders, she pulled them down slightly as she was shorter, saying,”Good morning sleepyheads! Come and sit, there’s lots to eat!”

Catra bristled, slipping back out of the hold with a huff, Adora grinning at her predictable reaction. Glimmer had never been a morning person before; it was usually Bow’s job to wake them up and get them moving, but ever since she’d been reunited with Micah, Glimmer seemed to be bursting with energy. As they took their seats beside each other and started loading up their plates with the veritable buffet spread on the table, Glimmer teleported back over to her seat beside her father.

“You’re just in time,” Micah said, taking a sip from his cup of coffee,”We were just talking about the idea you had to bring magic back to the universe.”

Adora paused, halfway lifting a large bite of breakfast sausage to her mouth. She set her fork back down, her eyes drawn to Catra seated at her side. She was watching her, waiting for her reply just as intently as Micah and Glimmer seemed to be, but otherwise her expression didn’t betray her feelings on the idea. Under the table however, Adora felt Catra’s hand rest on her knee, giving a reassuring squeeze.

Taking a breath, Adora said,”Right. The thing is, when I said that, I didn’t exactly have any idea how to do that. She-Ra was only able to restore Etheria’s magic because it already had magic reserves, dormant deep beneath the surface. If a planet has been completely sapped of magical energy, I’m not sure she’d be able to do it. I don’t want to give the people of those planets false hope, promising something I’m not sure I can accomplish.”

“You defeated Horde Prime!” Glimmer reminded her,”I’m sure even if for some reason you can’t restore a planet’s magic, the people living there won’t stop being grateful for that ! I was already thinking we could visit the Star Siblings’ planet. They knew what magic was, and those stories must have come from somewhere. Not to mention they probably have more experience with interstellar travel than we do, and could probably provide a better idea of where to start than just running off in a random direction and hoping for the best.”

“Isn’t that what you guys normally do though?” Catra asked with an arched brow, grin on her face showing the jab was in good humor. Glimmer stuck her tongue out at her in response, earning a chuckle from Micah at the gesture perhaps unbecoming of the Queen of Brightmoon.

“It always worked out for us before,” Adora said with a shrug,”Besides, even when we did try to make a plan, they usually fell apart within the first ten minutes.” For all her tactical and strategic planning skills learned from the Horde, when applied on actual missions with the Rebellion, the ideas never seemed to stick. An unexpected circumstance always seemed to pop up and throw everything out of whack. The hand on her knee gave another squeeze, and she was pleasantly surprised to find Catra looking at her with earnest, open encouragement.

“You didn’t have me before,” she said,”I said I’d be coming with you. If… when we go, I’ll make sure your plans stay on track.”

Adora felt her chest swell with warmth, and she laid her hand over Catra’s, unable to fight the smile on her face.

“That sounds perfect.”

“Great! That just leaves us Bow,” Glimmer said, pushing her now empty plate forward,”I’ll have to check in with the other Princesses too. See how everyone’s doing before we start mapping this out. This is so exciting!”

She stood, and with another burst of magic, teleported out of the room. Micah smiled into his cup of coffee, before setting the now empty mug down. He leaned back in his seat, sighing contentedly,”It’s good to be home.”

Catra nudged Adora in the side, nodding at their food then tipping her head towards the door. Adora blinked once then stood, picking up her plate and saying,”Uhh, King Micah-- your Highness-- we’re uh, going to take our breakfast outside.”

He seemed a bit surprised, mostly by the fact that she’d inform him, sounding as if she were asking permission. She was She-Ra after all. And after liberating all of Etheria from the magical constraints the First Ones had put in place and defeating Horde Prime, it’s not as if anyone would really object to her taking her breakfast outside with her girlfriend.

Catra gathered up her own plate, Melog winding back and forth between their legs as they ducked out of the dining hall and down through the castle corridors to one of the gardens outside. They bumped into each other purposefully along the way, trying to get the other to drop their food, until they found a nice shaded spot underneath a fruit tree, plopping down in a heap to eat, leaning against each other while Melog chased butterflies back and forth through the courtyard.

The rest of the castle seemed to still be asleep, and it was these quiet moments together, Adora resting her head on Catra’s shoulder while they leaned back against the trunk of the tree together, shoveling food into their mouths, not saying a word while they ate; she was really happy . Honestly and truly happy.

And that made her nervous.

She knew it made Catra nervous, too. The way they both would keep looking over their shoulders for the next threat, the next danger. Listening for sounds of conflict late into the night before sleep took them, needing to distract each other by staying up and whispering about whatever , and up until last night, Adora still waking up ready to fight, heart thudding and adrenaline lancing through her veins. She still had a knife under her pillow. Catra had her claws, of course, so she didn’t need a knife, but the way she bristled at nearly every little sound was obvious. Melog would have to lay on her chest while she took deep breaths to calm herself down, Adora stroking her hair back and reassuring her they were safe. Reassuring herself they were safe, that the fight was over.

How were they supposed to live normal lives now, never knowing a normal other than conflict and war? It was exhausting, to say the least, so the prospect of pursuing another mission brought a strange sense of calm. Having a task to complete, with a clear line drawn for success or failure, a goal to accomplish… that they could work with. Brightmoon forces had their hands full reestablishing trade routes, and Glimmer had insisted they stay out of it, and take the time to relax and recuperate. It was driving them both a little stir-crazy, itching to get into the war room and sit in on meetings, even if it was difficult to concentrate on the map of Etheria when they kept distracting each other.

Little touches, the brush of Catra’s tail over her leg, arms bumping where they sat next to one another. It didn’t make anyone else in attendance uncomfortable, long used to Spinerella and Netossa flirting over planning sessions, just not quite as hopelessly obvious as the two former Horde members. Netossa had teased them, calling them lovebirds, asking if the meeting was distracting them, if they needed some “alone time”, and they had had the wherewithal to be embarrassed at least but not at all ashamed otherwise when Catra seated herself square in Adora’s lap to listen to Glimmer talk about sending an emissary to Dryll to help reopen the kingdom in Entrapta’s absence to the Fright Zone.

Adora smirked at the memory just as she felt Catra shift, turning her head to press an absent kiss to the top of her head. She lifted her face in response, brushing her lips over hers in a casual display of affection, leaning up after a moment to kiss her fully. She was still ecstatic that she could just do that now, no fear or uncertainty freezing her heart in her chest. When she pulled away, she found Catra looking down to meet her gaze, heterochromic eyes alight with this soft expression that she didn’t think she could ever get tired of seeing on her face.

“Hey Catra,” Adora giggled, giggled , their food finished and set aside. She was warm and sleepy again from a full stomach, but with just one kiss her energy had been refreshed once more, restless and eager for some sort of action. Catra’s laugh in response was like music to her ears, a clawed hand lifting to cup her jaw with the utmost care, other arm sliding around her middle to pull her back in.

The sound of wingbeats and a greeting whinny made Catra startle, head whipping skyward to the sound. Adora reached a hand up to soothe her thumb over her cheek, saying,”Hey! Hey, it’s okay, it’s just Swift Wind.”

Sure enough, the pegasus was touching down in the clearing moments later, Melog darting out from the grass and racing to stand in front of Catra as his form shifted, large and red and hissing, hackles raised. Adora peeled herself away to stand up, stepping forward to greet her steed and hopefully placate the ruffled felines behind her. Swift Wind folded his wings back, shuffling his hooves nervously in place at the hostility behind his bonded partner.

Catra smoothed a hand back through her bristling hair, taking a deep breath in through her nose. Adora had turned, hand outstretched to her and Melog, her other patting Swift Wind’s neck.

“I’m not scary,” Swift Wind insisted, lowering his head, though the sunlight catching on the long, very pointy horn on his head potentially betrayed that statement. Melog’s “fur” shifted slowly back to blue, and Catra stood up from where she had been glued to the spot. She took a few tentative steps forward, before placing her hand in Adora’s, only to yelp as she grinned and yanked her forward. She put Catra’s hand on Swift Wind’s nose, the both of them startling, but Adora’s hand on his neck and hold over Catra’s hand seemed to calm them both.

The first friendly meeting between Catra and Swift Wind had been less than ideal. His loud, bombastic energy had been very sudden and surprising to the standoffish and aloof girl, and his oddly charming jealousy at her relationship with Adora had led to an amusing argument between them about his and Adora’s “sacred bond” as She-Ra and noble steed. Adora hadn’t been able to help but burst into laughter at the display, and since then a sort of truce had been found at least. But Swift Wind being Swift Wind still meant he was loud and energetic and didn’t often make his entrances subtle enough not to spook her and Melog, meaning most of the time Adora had to play mediator for a couple of minutes to calm things back down again.

He huffed out hot breath from his nose on Catra’s hand, and she pulled it back with a light hiss, wiping it off on her pants. Adora smiled, shaking her head before saying,”Think you two can play nice long enough to make it to Mystacor?” To get away from the castle and further enjoy their vacation of sorts, they’d decided to spend the day at Mystacor. The beach had been incredibly relaxing when Glimmer and Bow had taken her, and it being made of clouds rather than ocean, she hoped it would help Catra find some peace as well.

Castaspella had insisted they were all welcome any time, and Adora planned on using that to her advantage. They had packed for the trip the night before, bags waiting up in her-- their room, ready to go.

“As long as he doesn’t drop me,” Catra grumbled, folding her arms across her chest, tail flicking back and forth as she glared up at Swift Wind. He puffed out his chest, drawing his head back up to his full height, saying,”I would never!” Adora rolled her eyes and patted his flank once, before taking Catra’s hand in hers, saying,”We’re just gonna go grab our stuff, ok Swifty?” He gave a salute with one of his wings, before settling down to eat some grass during the wait for their return.

“Isn’t there another way to get to Mystacor?” Catra groaned as she let Adora walk her back up through the castle halls, passing a few guards along the way with a nod. Adora arched a brow back over her shoulder at her, replying,”If you’d like, I could ask Glimmer to teleport us there…”

Catra frowned at that, not a fan of the Queen’s teleportation magic. In that short moment of transdimensional relocation, her righting reflex was thrown off by the second of there not being an up or down sense. Just the memory pitched her stomach, and she swallowed down the nauseous sensation with a shake of her head. Swift Wind knew the way, and it would cut their travel time down by more than half.

“No-- ugh, fine, whatever,” Catra conceded with a shake of her head, before falling quiet again. Her eyes drifted down to their linked hands, smiling softly to herself after a moment, only letting go once they were at their room doors.

“You’ll be fine,” Adora insisted, going to where she had two packed bags waiting packed by the wardrobe. “I’ll be with you the whole time, and Swift Wind really won’t drop you. I promise.” She slung one bag over her shoulder, and turned around to hold the other out to Catra, who approached with a huff and slipped her arms through the straps. She gripped them tight to ground herself, still pouting at the prospect of riding around on that thing .

“Seriously, it can’t be much different than when you ride on Melog’s back,” Adora said, circling around in front of her, a reassuring smile on her face. Her hands went to cup Catra’s face, gently at first before her grin turned teasing and she squished her cheeks between her palms. Catra slapped her hands away with a snort, only for Adora to catch her wrist before she could pull away completely.

“Hey. I mean it. You’ll be alright,” Adora reassured her, much less teasing this time as she took her hand in both of hers, squeezing gently. She took a step closer, cradling her touch to her chest like a precious gem between them. Catra bumped her forehead to hers with a low sigh, taking a deep breath after to further steel her nerves.

“Ok. I trust you,” Catra exhaled, before guiding her closer with her hand in hers, her free arm draping around her waist. Even as her eyes closed, she could practically feel Adora’s smile, especially so when they both closed the gap further.

Catra was always wary of her fangs when they kissed, worried they would catch on Adora’s soft mouth. She would be tentative, not wanting to hurt her more than she already had in the past. Adora didn’t seem to have any such qualms, sighing happily into the embrace and leaning fully into it. Her lips were insistent against Catra’s, seeking out her warmth and comfort, grinning still.

“Mmmh…”

Catra’s ears fluttered at the noise from the other girl’s throat, feeling a pitch in her stomach completely unrelated to any memory of teleportation. Carefully, carefully, she opened her mouth slowly, inviting Adora to deepen the kiss if she desired. An offer that was quickly snatched up, though she didn’t know why she bothered being surprised anymore. Adora was reckless and impulsive and often acted without thinking, but at long last she finally seemed to be thinking about what she wanted. It just so happened to be Catra, a fact that had her heart soaring.

“C-Careful,” Catra gasped, muffled, feeling her tongue skirt along her lower lip,”S’sharp--”

“I know,” Adora hummed, pulling back just enough to reply before tipping her head and diving back in. Heat flared up the back of Catra’s neck, and her hand around Adora’s middle clung onto the material of her shirt, getting lost in the sensation of Adora’s tongue in her mouth, her lips on hers, dizzying and overwhelming almost all of her senses from a kiss alone.

Her knees were just starting to go weak when they separated, a goofy smile on Adora’s face when Catra’s eyes opened to look at her in still mild disbelief. Hand still in hers, Catra could feel how sweaty Adora’s palms had gotten, and it was a small comfort to know they were both still getting used to this, together.

“Come on, better not keep Swift Wind waiting too long.”

- - -

Adora didn’t do anything to try and loosen Catra’s death grip. Turned out, riding on Melog’s back on the ground was very different from soaring through the air on a winged horse. She had both arms wrapped crushingly tight around Adora’s middle, pressing her face into her back, her claws nearly tearing through her top where she clung to her shirt. Touching down along the coastal edge of Mystacor’s floating island was a godsend, but she still didn’t move, clinging to Adora like a cat stuck in a tree clinging to a branch.

“Catra, we’re here,” Adora said tentatively, reaching a hand down to pat one of her arms squeezing around her waist. When Catra didn’t lift her head up, hissing, Adora sighed and slid down off Swift Wind’s back. She looped her hands under Catra’s thighs as she hopped down, holding her on her back, Catra quickly adjusting her hold to go up around her neck and shoulders, yanking her off-balance a moment before Adora righted herself with a grunt. Between their bags and Catra hanging off of her, it was a bit difficult to maneuver, but taking a second to reaffirm her grip made it relatively simple enough to start the walk towards the beach.

Castaspella normally would have greeted them at the runway, on any other day, but since Horde Prime’s occupation, everyone seemed to be busy with rebuilding efforts. Hopefully that meant they could enjoy their beach day relatively uninterrupted. It was hard to fight the desire to go and check in and ask if they needed any help, but today was supposed to be a day for her and Catra to spend together and relax. About halfway through the walk, Catra finally lifted her head up, looking around them in surprise. On the one side, the secret magical college of Mystacor; spires reaching even further to the heavens they floated above, and on the other, rolling tides of clouds as the grass under foot turned to pure white sand.

“Whoa…” she breathed, her tensed shoulders relaxing a bit as she stared out at the pink and white waves. Adora smiled, breathing coming a bit harder, a loose strand of hair falling in front of her face as she found a good spot to set up. Well, as good a spot as any. This was really only her second time coming to the beach, so she wouldn’t consider herself an expert.

When she stopped, Catra hesitated before finally loosening her grip and sliding off Adora’s back. The sand beneath her feet felt so strange, curling clawed toes in the grains experimentally as she crouched down. Melog hopped out of her bag, returning to his full size now that they were no longer in transit. He shoved his snout into the sand, only to pull back with a start and sneeze, parroting one of Catra’s sneezes before shaking his head rapidly. Adora smiled to herself, laying out a large beach towel from her bag before she sat down on it, kicking off her boots and stuffing her socks in them. She pushed her feet into the cool sand, peeling off her jacket and loosely hugging her knees halfway to her chest, rolling up her shirt sleeves to better feel the warm sun and cool breeze on her skin.

Feeling Catra’s eyes on her, she turned her head to confirm she was indeed staring, and shifted slightly where she sat, blush coloring her cheeks. Adora reached up and tucked that stray lock of blond hair behind her ear, shoulders curving upward as she looked away, asking,”W-What?”

“N-Nothing! Nothing, I just-- you--” Catra started, stumbling over her words, having been caught being very obviously transfixed. Normally Adora couldn’t relax to save her life, but here she was reclining on a beach, enjoying the sun and fresh air, seeming at peace and calm and it… it looked good on her, ok? Catra wouldn’t mind seeing more of it. Seeing her happy, a soft smile on her face. Blushing herself, Catra scratched the back of her neck lightly, before she slunk over from her crouch to join her on the large beach towel, obviously brought with the intent for them to share. She bumped Adora’s shoulder with her own, stretching her legs out in front of herself, one crossed over the other as she leaned back on her arms.

“... This is nice,” Catra said, feeling Adora relaxing again at her side now that she had joined her. Adora sat up, only to lean back on her arms and mirror Catra’s posture, placing her hand on top of hers. Catra tilted her head, resting it on Adora’s shoulder as they both watched the clouds roll in and out, lapping at the shore lazily. Adora hummed her agreement, tipping her own head to rest atop Catra’s, basking in the moment.

It was a good way to spend the day.

#she-ra #spop #post-finale #catradora #adora/catra #fanfic #fanfiction

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give-me-back-my-rhodey · 5 years

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Tuesday SFW: AU/Trope

@winterironmonth

+++++++++

“Um, honey? What’s this?”

“I think it’s a baby.”

“Looks about right. And how did you get said baby?” Bucky resists the urge to facepalm.

Tony shrugs, still staring at the infant in his arms. “A lady dropped it in my arms. She said she it was mine and she was done taking care of it.”

“Do you think it’s yours?”

“No, but I wasn’t going to drop it on the streets. I’m heartless, but not that heartless.”

“Tones, you are not heartless. Did she just give you the baby, or… Like what’s it’s name? Where’s the birth ceritificate and social security number? How can we actually take the baby in?”

“There’s a baby bag right here… are you actually considering this?”

“Only if you want it, hon. Let’s get the baby back to the tower and then we’ll go from there.”

Fifteen minutes later, the pair has the sleeping baby on the table and are going through the baby bag. There’s a manilla folder with the baby’s birth certificate – born 9.23.2018, sex F, name Venus Elaine Ramierez, mother Adele S. Ramierez, father unknown – and her social security card. There are a few outfits folded neatly in the bag along with a set of baby toys. The mother had also helpfully included some baby food.

“Well, at least she’s done nursing,” Bucky sighs. “Do the dates add up to her being yours?”

Tony counts back in his head, “She’d have been conceived in January 2018. We didn’t get together until April 2018, so there’s a chance when I was wallowing in my feelings for you. I can’t say I remember though. But we can get a paternity test. If she’s not mine, do you not want her?”

“Tony, we never really discussed adopting, but I want to let you know that I am all for it, but I don’t want to get into something that you’re not comfortable or happy with. If you don’t want her, I’m sure you know several adoption agencies that could get her settled with a good family. If you do, well, I guess we’ll read a couple parenting books.” Bucky lifts Tony’s chin so he’s looking at him. “You don’t have to make the decision today or even next week, but right now she’s in our care until you make it. I’m gonna call Happy to see if he can procure us a cradle.” He pecks Tony’s cheek as he walks out, phone to his ear.

Tony sits at the table, staring at the baby for a few minutes before he rouses himself and calls Helen Cho. “Good morning Doctor, or is it evening in Korea?”

“It’s morning, Tony. What can I do for you?”

“Hypothetically speaking, if someone dropped a baby in my lap, told me it was mine, and ran off, would you be able to do a DNA test for me?” He queires.

Helen laughs, “That sounds very hypothetical. I could, but I will be in Korea for the next two months or so. If you need or want it sooner than that, I can recommend a close friend of mine who can do it all under wraps. Let me know, and I will send you her information.”

“Do that, and I’ll let you know what I decide. Thanks again Doc. I owe you one.”

“Just let me know when Thor gets back,” she jokes. “See you, Tony.”

A few moments later, a contact pops up under the name of Imani Nahas. FRIDAY pulls up an online file, and after close evaluation, he types up an email to her. To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Subject: Secret Tests Attachment: nda.pdf Good afternoon Dr. Nahas, This is Tony Stark. You were recommended to me by Dr. Helen Cho, a good friend of mine. I have a procedure I need done that needs to be kept out of the news due to those who may be affected. Please see attached NDA and advise if you would be willing to help me out. Best Regards, Tony Stark

He sits back and waits for her reply.

A half-hour later, Bucky comes back in with the crib. He sees Tony sitting on the couch in the living room with Venus in the crook of his left arm, typing away on the tablet with his right. He smiles. Tony will do just fine as a parent. +++++++++ Dr. Imani Nahas waits at the front desk of Stark Industries for her clearance badge. She’s not sure what to expect, but she hopes for the best. The woman at the desk eyes her hijab as she hands over the badge. “Take the elevator to the left. You’ll need to scan this badge.” As Imani walks away, she hears the woman mutter, “I hope Stark knows what he’s getting into. Not the first time, this place was blown up.”

She almost turns around to argue because wow, rude, but she shakes her head and marches to the elevator. When she scans her badge, the doors open, and a voice with an Irish lilt says, “Welcome Dr. Nahas. Boss is upstairs. I am alerting him of your arrival.”

“Thank you.”

Tony Stark is there to meet her when the elevator doors open. “Good morning Dr. Nahas. It’s nice to meet you. When you are comfortable, I will take you to our medical room.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. I am ready when you are.” She smiles and gestures for him to lead the way.

“Call me Tony, Mr. Stark was my father.” He takes her to the medical room where she sees Bucky Barnes holding a… a baby? “Dr. Nahas, a woman dropped this little angel in my lap about a week ago, telling me she was mine. I am planning on keeping her either way – as long as the adoption agencies ok it – but we just want to know if she is, in fact, my biological daughter. The NDA is, I’m sure you know, needed to prevent this from reaching the press as we want her to grow up in a life that’s as normal as possible.” He fiddles his hands nervously.

“Listen, Tony, it’s ok. I won’t question or tell. You’re paying me enough to keep my mouth shut,” She responds.

The corners of his mouth turn up. “That was kind of a joke. Helen told me I would like you. Are you able to perform a paternity test?”

“Yes, I can. You guys can stay in the room if you would like, but first, Tony I will need a urine sample and a cheek swab.”

He winks at her and leaves the room. Not 10 minutes later he is back with both things. Well, at least he was prepared. There are so many times, a DNA test gets delayed because the man cannot urinate. Imani figures that’s how you determine whether or not the man wants the child.

She performs the test and tells them it will take a couple days. Tony tells her to keep the badge until she comes back with the test results. “Sure that sounds good. And I, um, don’t want to get anyone in trouble, but the lady at the front desk seemed to think I would blow up the building…”

“That’s not ok. Is it Marlene? If so, she’s already been written up for other racist comments. Short, curly white hair, bright pink lipstick?” When Imani nods, he groans. “Thank you, I will take care of it.”

After the elevator doors close behind her, he looks at Bucky. “Let me get Happy on the phone. He knows their hours. Hey Hap? Who’s womanning the front desk? Marlene? We’re going to have to let her go. She made a Islamaphobic comment to my guest here. Tell Adria to call her in for a discussion before she leaves today. Thanks Happy.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++ Dr. Nahas brings back the test results two days later. “I’m going to just leave these with you, ok? Have a great day, Tony, and let me know if you ever need me.”

Not long after she leaves, Bucky finds Tony staring at the unopened folder. “The tests come back? Are you ready to see if you have a daughter made from your own flesh and blood?”

“Yeah, I think I am ready. Although it doesn’t really matter either way.”

The results come back to a 98% match. Tony’s eyes tear up as he looks at the happy baby girl in the playpen. “Hello Venus. Daddy’s here.” He whispers.

#winteriron #winteriron fics #winteriron month 2020 #accidental baby acquisition #fluff #tw: islamophobia #just a tiny bit

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ellisonhaney · 4 years

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Rose, 26, GMT, she/her, vomit ⇢ i swear i just saw MARGOT ROBBIE out on the streets but it turned out to be ELLISON HANEY. SHE was born on APRIL 19TH making them only 31 years old. They’re known to be +RESOURCEFUL, +CREATIVE and -PROUD -WOUDED. They spend most of their time being a RECEPTIONIST. Rumour has it they’re HETEROSEXUAL, and can be found in VAN NUYS. You know you’ve found them when you come across PILES OF BABY LAUNDRY, SLEEPY MORNING VOICE, AND THE SMELL OF HONEY.

(miscarriage tw, cancer tw, death tw, divorce tw, infertility tw)

BIO

Ellison was born in Highland Park, Texas, hailed as the seventh most expensive superb in the USA with an average annual household income of $358,994 it was no surprise that the girl had a very cushy lifestyle. Both her parents were said to be ‘old money’ with basically a never-ending income that they were more than happy to spend on holidays and the best of the best. When the girl was seven she was vaguely aware of her mother and father setting up a charitable organisation to help spread the wealth of the 1% to those who weren’t as blessed and as she started to understand what that meant the pride in her family just grew. Sure they had a lot of money, but they helped others as well, so there was no need to be embaressed about indulging.

The typical southern family her mother was a society lady, her father spent a lot of time at country clubs, their house was filled with their rare art collection and played host to elaborate parties. Every single one Ellison would get a new dress, prancing around in fairy wings before graduating to tight designer cocktail dresses inside, she loved everything about it. She was raised with a strong sense of family so when she met the man she ended up marrying it was always with the intention of becoming a housewife and raising his children in some pile of a home. Probably still in Texas because after all that was her home, her community, and she loved it.

Always with a creative streak the girl loved to design small dresses for toddlers, imagining she might one day get to put her own daughters in them, launching her own designing line called Toddler Delights. Never needing it to make money but just because she wanted to share what she loved. Nothing Ellie ever did was because she needed money. Meeting the love of her life at the age of twenty four the two of them were married in a lavish southern wedding two years later with the intention of starting a family. Sadly the girl’s father passed away not long after she returned from her (month long) honeymoon, but still with the support of her mother the newlyweds started trying for a baby. To say it didn’t go to plan would be an understatement. Not only was she seemingly unable to conceive naturally for a long time, when Ellison finally did fall pregnant she wasn’t able to maintain the pregnancy.

By twenty nine she’d suffered three miscarriages, two rounds of IVF that had failed altogether, and the couple’s relationship was hanging on by the skin of it’s teeth. To add insult to injury in May of 2018 Ellison’s mother was diagnosed with stage three breast cancer. Everything was falling apart around the family that had not long ago seemingly had everything, but the determined blonde wouldn’t be deterred and in August of that year the couple officially filed to be considered for adoption. Thanks no doubt to her parents charity work as well as her own family wealth it didn’t take long for them to be approved, whoever said the adoption process could be arduous was being dramatic if you asked Ellison at the time, but by the time they were informed they would become parents to a baby boy in June of 2019 the damage to their relationship was too far gone. Holding things together long enough to push through the adoption her husband Grant promptly left Ellison two months after Walker was born, leaving her devastated.

On September 13th 2019 her mother passed away from terminal cancer, leaving her with no living family apart from the baby who was now her entire responsibility. Medical bills for her mother had been extensive, and it was when Ellison started to formulate a plan to pay them from her parents funds that she realised the devastating truth. Not only had the family never had the money she’d thought they’d really had, for the last twenty two years Mr and Mrs Calhoun had been funding their 1% lifestyle from the money they had been apparently giving to charity from a plethora of fundraisers and drives.

Once the news got out their daughter was shunned from the society she’d grown up in, the people she’d grown up calling friends turning their backs on her with limited exception, and with nothing now keeping her in Texas the two person family left for Los Angeles. Most people don’t believe her when they find out about how she grew up living, especially since the young mother is now a receptionist living hand to mouth in Van Nuys, Los Angeles in a one bedroom apartment with more issues than assets. The money she makes from her part time job and limited sales from Toddler Delights which was once a hobby and was now a lifeline, everyday was a struggle. Not to mention she was still paying off her mother’s medical expenses. Still, Ellison kept her married name for both her and Walker’s sake. He deserved his fathers name and she deserved the anonymity it would occasionally buy her from her family scandal, though it was always a matter of time before people found out.

Other:

Ellison had suffered the worst humiliation she could imagine in every way possible, and so her pride was all she had left in her own eyes. The woman refuses handouts even from those who are her best and oldest friends. She sees it as pity, and hates that more than anything.

Despite everything her love for her parents runs as deep as it ever did. Maybe people don’t understand but she knows they weren’t bad people, whatever they did was likely done to protect her, rather than hurt others. It might not be true, but it helps her fall asleep at night.

Ellie hates her job but knows she has to do something to support her family. It’s not mentally stimulating at all, so she just goes through the motions, and would much rather talk about her designing than she would ever her reception work.

Walker was born on June 22nd 2019, so he is about to turn one, and she will protect him with everything she has even if things didn’t pan out exactly how she’d wanted them to. Because she has no family now apart from him, and he has no family apart from her.

Sometimes she can be angry because of leftover emotion about what she’s been through in the last two years. A lot of it hasn’t been dealt with properly because she’s too intent on survival. Ellie just doesn’t have the time to stop and take stock, she is just trying to keep her head above water.

Ever since she was a little girl she’s used the same honey body wash that her mom introduced her to, and that will never change. A year ago the company that makes it announced they would be discontinuing it, so she bought a hundred bottles. This was before she no longer had access to her ex husbands credit card, but she made sure she kept those bottles in the divorce.

She seems to have the look of someone without enough hours in the day 90% of the time, her apartment is full of piles of unwashed baby onesies, and last nights dirty plates are in the sink. It’s not because she doesn’t want to get these things done, it’s because she physically cannot do everything required of her, the woman never stops. For mental healths sake she has to step away to see friends or let loose sometimes, but this costs getting in a babysitter or convincing someone she already knows to watch Walker, and these are favours she doesn’t want to end up running out of.

Sometimes that side of her that was a southern pageant girl, a debutant, a kept woman, rears it’s ugly head. But mostly she tries to blend in as best she can because then people ask less questions.

#lahqintro #intro #about #scrapbook #muse

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pratigyakrishnaki · 4 years

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The Descent of Ganga

A/N: I’m BACK! Its been too long, just... too long. I had thought that the quarantine would give me some time to breathe and get my life together but that has not been the case. School and life almost destroyed all my creativity, but I’m building it slowly, and my itch to write is growing, thankfully. For reference, this fic was supposed to be out MahaShivratri 2018... but its finally done now. I’m tagging all my Mahabharat/Indian Lore peeps: @incurablescribbler @aapagaa @dilkishehnaai @heyifinallyhaveablog @mayavanavihariniharini @allegoriesinmediasres @chaanv @medhasree @avani008 and every other person I’m missing!

I miss you all so very much <3 Reach out! I’m still around! Just more quiet 😂

Bhagirath stared at the vast expanse of dry desert in front of him. It went on for miles and miles, the sun rising in the distant horizon. The earth was cracked and any drop of water he put into it soaked up like a baby thirsting for milk. Hot wind blew over him and into the land lifting dirt and dust. No, not dust. Ashes. This was the resting place of his entire ancestry. 60,000 people. His great grandfathers and their brothers were in this desert, reduced to ashes. All because of a yagna for power. The grand Suryavanshi line was decimated. Except for him.

“Bring peace to my grandfather and granduncles’ souls,” his father had said as his last breath left him. Bhagirath’s father, King Dilip had given his entire life to try and bring peace, but the task had remained unfinished.

Bhagirath thought back to the rishi who had cursed his grandfathers. Rishi Kapil had been in deep meditation, and the bustling of the sons of Sagara had awoken him and accused him of thievery. The sage’s wrath had been indescribable, and within moments there was only ash. Ashes and dust. The rishi had said, for peace, prosperity and happiness, the sacred Ganga had to come down, but she was precious to Brahma. Dilip’s life had gone into pleasing Brahma, and Bhagirath was left to finish the task. Just Bhagirath and a vast desert of land.

While Bhagirath stared into the expanse, a fire began growing within him. A fire that raged into a determined oath. Addressing the ashes, dust and cracked land, he spoke, his voice thundering with conviction. “I will put you to rest. I will bring Ganga down, not just for my family but for the world. I will do it! On my word as a grandson, and a descendant of the Sun, I swear to you.” He turned away, vowing to not look at the desert until it was filled with water.

After that vow, Bhagirath returned to his city, renounced the throne and went into the Himalayas. Twenty, long, arduous years passed. “Om Brahmaya Namah. Om Brahmaya Namah. Om Brahmaya Namah.” The chant was the only thing to leave Bhagirath’s lips. His penance was grueling, and his body almost withered away. But Bhagirath didn’t care. The only thing on his mind: Brahma. More time passed. To Bhagirath, time became fluid, nebulous. Days, months, years swirled around him, passing in an instance, until a deep voice woke him.

“Open your eyes child. I am here.”

As Bhagirath cracked open his eyes, he was blinded by light. Brahma shone, with an unearthly light, seated on a swan. His eyes, which were just half opened, focused on Bhagirath, a soft smile playing on his lips. Bhagirath’s eyes widened in awe and he bowed at deeply Brahma’s feet, unable to speak.

“My child, your penance pleases me. The steadfastness and determination in you warrant a gift. What can I give you, oh Bhagirath?” Brahma’s voice echoed in Bhagirath’s ears, the question ringing, but he was too awestruck to answer. Brahma merely chuckled, “Ah, my son, I see what you are trying to achieve. Arise and speak.”

At this, Bhagirath finally stood. With his head bowed, and hands folded together, he said, “Oh great one, there is no limit to your glory. You, who in moments can create worlds beyond my wildest imagination, have come to meet me? Who am I to ask anything from you? Being in your presence I have been given the entire world. I merely hope to fulfil my father’s final wish. I would like to bring the river Ganga to my ancestral ashes. Their souls have not had rest in three generations, and with your grace, I would like for them to achieve rest. With your blessing, please give me the strength to achieve this task.”

At Bhagirath’s words, Brahma opened his eyes fully and looked him in the eyes, almost as if testing him one more time. Bhagirath stared back, sincerity shining in his eyes. Finally, Brahma sat back.

“I can fulfil this wish of yours. My daughter can come down to Earth, but the force of her fall is too great. If she falls with no one to catch her, the Earth will split in two.”

Bhagirath’s eyebrows crumpled, eyes filled with worry, “Lord, how can I let that happen? The world needs Ganga, but how can she bless us if she’ll destroy us first?”

Brahma smiled slightly, “I have the solution, but it will require even more resolve by you. Can you do it?”

“For the world, for my ancestors, for my vow, I will do anything.”

“Call upon the Mahadev. Ask for Lord Shiva to come and catch her in his matted locks. If he agrees, Ganga will come down.” Bhagirath bowed his head and closed his eyes, nodding gratefully. When he looked up, Brahma had vanished.

Looking to the sky, Bhagirath carded his hair with his fingers and sighed. Steeling his jaw, he set forth another goal. Shiva would come, he would make that certain.

Bhagirath peered at the Himalayas. On the snowy mountain range, only a few mountains were higher than he was, but to capture the Mahadev’s attention he would need to be in plain sight. He began climbing, and once he reached Dronagiri’s peak, he sat, settling in for another long penance.

Bhagirath closed his eyes and began concentrating on Shiva, and Shiva alone. Om Namah Shivay. Om Namah Shivay. In the frigid cold, his words cut through the wind, his mind fixed on the great Mahadev. He forgot to eat, forgot to sleep; in his mind only Shiva was fixed. Bhagirath himself was lost, time fluid once again. Soon, much too soon, another voice spoke to him.

“Bhagirath, you had called me? Open your eyes and ask, son.” In his mind, however, Bhagirath refused to budge. Brahma had taken much longer to come; Shiva could not come so quickly. He would not be swayed. Keeping his eyes closed, he furrowed his brow and thought to Shiva once again.

Lord, save me from whoever is distracting me. I only wish to focus on you. The entity in front of him chuckled, his voice throaty, almost as if he had read Bhagirath’s mind.

“My child, you have called on me, how can I distract you from myself?” Hearing this, Bhagirath’s lips turned down into a thoughtful frown. He had never heard Shiva’s voice, but how could the entity in front of him know that he had been thinking of Shiva? Bhagirath’s eyes popped open, lashing words at the tip of his tongue ready to be spoken at the one who had broken his concentration. His mouth was open ready to berate, but as his eyes finally registered who was in front of him, the words died in his throat. Dressed in nothing but a tiger skin and elephant cape stood Lord Shiva himself, a smile ghosting his lips. For a moment Bhagirath gaped, taking in the Mahadev's full glory: his knotted hair tumbling down past his shoulders, the ropes of rudraksha beads wrapped around his arms, and the snake coiled around his throat hissing and spitting. He was tall, taller than even Bhagirath and his hand held a trident, a trishul, made of a metal sharp enough to cut through stone.

Bhagirath’s eyes travelled up and down Shiva’s form, marveling at his glory, until he locked eyes with the god. His eyes widened in shock and he fell to Shiva’s feet in awe that the great god had come so quickly.

Clutching his feet, Bhagirath closed his eyes and began mumbling, “Mahadev, Mahadev you came? You came so soon? How? What had I done to make you come so quickly? I couldn’t believe it was you. I’m so sorry for staring, so, so sorry. It was the height of disrespect; I am so sorry. Shiva, Shiva thank you, thank you for coming. Thank you…” Shiva grasped Bhagirath’s shoulders, lifting him to his feet, cutting off his stream of mumbling. He looked at the ascetic king with his eyes tightly shut, his hands clasped together as though he were waiting for Shiva to release his anger at his insolence.

Instead, Shiva began laughing, loudly and unabashedly. The loud guffaw of the god confused Bhagirath even further and he opened his eyes slowly, still afraid to face Shiva. He kept his eyes lowered in respect as Shiva quieted from his laugh.

“Look at me, son. Do not be afraid. I like some spirit in my devotees.” Shiva’s voice was rough from misuse as he spoke. Bhagirath raised his gaze and locked eyes with the Lord. He saw brown eyes, like his own, twinkling back at him.

“There we go. I know your respect and piety for me, otherwise I would not have come, but you require something from me, and when you ask, I want to see your face.”

Bhagirath smiled, albeit a little thrown; Shiva was baffling. He had heard of the Mahadev’s severe austerities, his immense sacrifice, the vast knowledge he held, but the Shiva in front of him was different. The Lord Shiva he faced commanded great respect, but he was also… friendly. He was the Lord of his devotees. Shiva chuckled again, the lines around his eyes crinkling, and Bhagirath realized that he could hear his thoughts.

“Son, I see and hear things pretty clearly. I don’t need the extra fanfare that comes with worship. So, ask and let us see what I can do for you.”

Bhagirath held his breath and let it out slowly, calming himself and collecting his thoughts. “Lord Shiva, you truly are the Mahadev. I am eternally grateful to you. Thank you for coming at my call. No doubt, you are already aware, I wish to bring the Ganga down to Earth. Not only to help my ancestors but also for the good of the world. Her holy waters will bless us all…” At this Bhagirath hesitated, catching Shiva’s eye once again. At Shiva’s curious gaze, he continued. The Lord wanted him to vocalize his thoughts.

“However, sire, Lord Brahma said her fall is too great. When I had asked him, He said that if she falls without anyone to catch her, she will splinter Mother Earth. I wish to help the Earth, not destroy it. My Lord, please catch her fall. Catch her in your matted locks so she gently flows.” Bhagirath concluded his thoughts, folding his hands into a prayer.

Shiva listened carefully to Bhagirath’s prayer, and stroked his chin, humming under his breath, “Bring Ganga you said? Hmmm, you want me to catch her? I can do that.”

Clearing his throat, he caught Bhagirath’s gaze again, “Vishnu was right about you. Your innocence and virtuous character are worthy of this great task. I will do this. But be warned, great Bhagirath, Ganga flows wildly, she is unpredictable. It would do you well to stay on guard, my devotee.”

Hearing this Bhagirath’s face lit up. He once again touched the feet of the Mahadev. “Thank you, my lord. Thank you. I will stay on my guard.”

Lord Shiva smiled and touched Bhagirath’s head, blessing him. “May you be victorious in your task.” Bhagirath stood, and next to Shiva, Brahma winked into existence.

“Lord Shiva, Bhagirath, my daughter Ganga stands ready to fall. Are you both ready?”

“Stand back, oh king. Lord Brahma, let her come.”

Brahma winked out of existence as Bhagirath scrambled back, away from Shiva as he stood, his arms akimbo. He looked up as water began hurtling down from the heavens in a steady fall, appearing out of nothing, from nowhere. As Bhagirath peered closer, he saw the form of a young woman in the water, her hair streaming behind her, her eyes piercingly dark. This was the river Ganga. She had a serene look on her face, but as she approached Shiva’s locks, her smile turned playfully impish, as if she were about to play a nasty prank on the Lord. Shiva looked up at the falling water and narrowed his eyes, arching an eyebrow, almost daring Ganga to continue, reading her thoughts.

Bhagirath watched on, his face furrowing in more confusion as Ganga gushed into Shiva’s hair but never came out. More water flowed and flowed, falling out of the sky, straight into the Mahadev, but why wasn’t she leaving? Why wasn’t she hitting the earth? Bhagirath watched brows creased as Shiva began cackling again. He studied Shiva’s hair, looking for Ganga’s form, and found her struggling against the hair, trying to push her way out. She wiggled this way and that, trying to tear apart her hairy prison to touch the floor. Bhagirath watched as Shiva laughed and Ganga struggled back and forth. His eyes widened in alarm as he caught on. At this rate, the river would never reach the Earth!

Bhagirath clambered over to Shiva and prostrated at his feet. “Lord, why have you caught the Ganga?”

“Bhagirath, this is what you asked of me. I have caught her,” Shiva smiled knowingly.

“Yes sire, but…” Bhagirath’s eyes turned pleading as he stood up and looked at his lord. He knew that Shiva knew what his goal was. Then why this delay?

“Bhagirath, Ganga is very mischievous. She is not used to flowing with boundaries. As she fell, she believed that she would be able to sweep me away with her to the underworld. She must learn humility and docility.” Bhagirath looked up into Shiva’s hair to see a quieted Ganga. She had stopped struggling and was listening quietly to the conversation of Bhagirath and Shiva. She softly smiled, and Bhagirath’s heart melted. He looked back into Shiva’s eyes and pleaded, “Lord, in your locks you carry an important treasure for the world. Just by your touch, she has been twice blessed and will remain so as long as she flows. Please let her go, but control her flow, I will watch over her like a big brother would. On Earth, she will not flow anywhere without my permission. I promise it.”

Shiva inhaled deeply through his nose and pulled apart a lock of his hair. Through this sluice, Ganga streamed out and stood next to Bhagirath. Shiva scrutinized her intensely and her cheeks turned red as she faced his silent but judging gaze. She folded her hands into a prayer and meekly whispered, “Lord Shiva, I will follow the King Bhagirath. I will not be disruptive.” At her soft voice, Shiva smiled and reached out, patting her cheek. Nodding to Bhagirath, he blessed them and pointed their path. Bhagirath bowed and turned away leading Ganga to where his ancestors waited.

For a while they walked, or rather flowed, silently, the only sound was Ganga’s waters, tumbling and gurgling faintly, following Bhagirath and her footsteps. As they walked, Bhagirath thought back to his ancestors and the rest they would finally have. Ganga would help so many people, her sacred waters would provide a sense of sanctity in the coming eons. This era was the Satya Yug, the holiest era, the first era, but by Kal Yug, the darkest era, Ganga would be a beacon of hope in an otherwise obsolete land. Lost in his thoughts, Bhagirath exhaled heavily, his brow low set as his train of thought ran on and on.

Hearing his sigh, Ganga piped up, pushing him out of his musings. “Bhagirath Bhai, is something wrong?”

Startled by her bubbly voice, he jumped, almost like he had forgotten that she was with him. His lips quirked into a sad smile and he attempted to articulate his train of thoughts, “My lady, I am grateful to you. You will help so many people and my ancestors. You have left your home, and your father and your comforts for me. How can I repay this action?” He hung his head in sorrow, for he had pulled a daughter away from her father.

For a moment, Ganga considered him. He didn’t look much older than her current form, but his shoulders drooped, as though the burden of the entire world was on his shoulders to carry. His heart seemed heavy, and this did not seem like the Bhagirath she had watched while he did penance for her. She came to a resolution. Like he was taking care of her, she would take care of him. She laughed, her smile bright and toothy, “Bhai, first of all, to you, I am just Ganga. Consider me your little sister.”

Her eyes sparkled merrily; her voice cheerful. As they walked, she explained her thinking and by some small miracle, Bhagirath’s heart became lighter with every step, “I came because it was my duty, and it’s a new adventure! Plus Bhaiyya, I’m not alone. You and all the citizens of Earth are here. You will take care of me, I know it. There is no repaying between siblings!” She spoke with an air of finality her tone light but full of conviction, and Bhagirath began to grin, her sunny disposition infectious on his own mood.

“Thank you, Ganga.”

“Hush now Bhaiyya and look!” She waved away his gratitude and pointed in the horizon, as a plume of smoke drifted up, kissing the clouds. “Is that a yagna I see?” Bhagirath strained his eyes as the sacrificial flame grew in his line of vision. As they approached the flame, his vision cleared. He saw a wizened old sage sitting in the front of many other sages and disciples, chanting mantras and pious shlokas to the flames. Every now and then, the first sage would dip a small ladle full of ghee into the fire, feeding its flames larger and larger. Bhagirath and Ganga approached carefully, the aura of the sacred fire filling them with happiness and contentment. As the sage chanted further, Bhagirath felt a flash of recognition. He knew this sage.

“That is Sage Jahnu’s ashram and yes, he’s conducting a yagna. Let us turn away and give him space. We should not disturb him.” He whispered to his companion, willing her to stay quiet and turn away, but he should have known better.

“Bhai, please let me look closer!” Ganga surged past him, ignoring his objections, her waters rushing forward closer to the yagna. Her curiosity was too great, and even she wanted to be sanctified by the sage’s penances.

“Ganga, No!” Bhagirath gave chase, trying to stop her before she would submerge the flame, but it was too late. As he reached the ashram, he saw desolation and a very wet, very angry sage. In her haste, Ganga had destroyed everything: the fire, the huts, the entire ashram. She had gone too far, and Bhagirath had not been able to hold her back. As Bhagirath surveyed the damage, Ganga cowered behind him, trembling in fear at the sage’s anger. She had made a grave mistake, but sometimes, even she forgot how powerful her tide was. She had tried to hold back, but was unable to, and in consequence she had wreaked havoc on holy work. She only hoped that Bhagirath would be able to pacify the enraged sage.

“Ganga!” Jahnu thundered, “Come out and face your punishment!” Sage Jahnu was a very sorry sight. His saffron clothes were soaked, and his hair and beard dripped cold water onto the floor. But his eyes, his eyes spit fire. His body shook with rage and Ganga’s heart dropped to her stomach. She was in trouble.

“Careless girl! You have destroyed years of hard work and heavy austerities. Come out and face my fury!” Jahnu surveyed the area, arms akimbo, waiting for Ganga to reveal herself, but she wouldn’t come out from behind Bhagirath. Quickly realizing that she would not give up her location, the sage’s wrath grew. Before Bhagirath or Ganga could protest, he pooled together all his yogic energy and gathered all of her water into his cupped hands. He tipped his head back and in one long gulp swallowed her right out from behind Bhagirath.

Bhagirath could do nothing but watch, jaw dropped, as the sage swallowed Ganga, burped quietly, and went about his day, as if nothing had happened. Bhagirath waited as he turned around, checked up on the many sages and disciples, and set forth to fix his destroyed ashram. For a moment, the sage ignored Bhagirath, working to put his yagnakund back together, until Bhagirath cleared his throat loudly to announce his presence. The sage turned around and found a very distraught Bhagirath staring back at him.

“Yes? How can I help you?”

Bhagirath bowed his head, pressing his hands together, and began speaking delicately so as to not anger the sage anymore. “Great sage, my name is Bhagirath and I am the descendant of King Sagara. As you must know my ancestors had perished because of the wrath of Rishi Kapil. Their ashes lie in the vast dry ocean in the East. I had hoped to bring the sacred river Ganga to their resting place to release them to heaven. However…” He trailed off, bowing deeply to the sage.

“Yes, my child. I am aware of your penance. I am also aware that the river I just swallowed was the Ganga herself. However, she ruined years of hard work with one fell swoop. Her impulsiveness destroyed my work!” The sage retorted hotly, as he gestured to the ruined ashram.

“Benevolent sage, I understand she caused havoc, but she is just a river. It is in her nature. Please do not let your anger hinder the world from her divine touch. Please let her go.” Bhagirath touched Jahnu’s feet, pleading for Ganga.

The sage exhaled hard, thinking. Bhagirath had worked hard for Ganga, his sacrifice could not be put to waste. “I shall let her go.”

“Thank you, Sage Jahnu. You have indeed made her holy. She shall be known as Jahnvi for you have thrice blessed her.”

The sage nodded and tilted his head to the right. With a loud popping sound, Ganga cascaded from the sage’s ear. Bhagirath waited as she came out, arms crossed across his chest, his face stern. Ganga stood; her eyes cast to the floor in shame as she toed the dirt around her feet.

“Sorry Bhaiyya.”

Bhagirath arched a brow, “It’s not me you need to apologize to.”

Ganga turned, pressing her hands together and bowing deeply to the sage. “Sire, I deeply apologize. I did not mean to destroy your work, your yagna, and your ashram. Forgive me?” At Ganga’s sweet words, even Jahnu could not remain angry. He smiled grudgingly and let the duo pass by, raising his hand in a farewell blessing.

Ganga and Bhagirath moved on, slowly winding around the land, avoiding any more ashrams and disasters. They walked for what seemed like days with Bhagirath leading the way and Ganga, walking beside him, her waters following. They talked quietly as they walked, learning about each other, becoming companions on their path to the ocean. Bhagirath shared fond memories of his childhood, his father, Dilip, and the grave vow he had made before he started penance. Ganga talked about her father, the Lord Brahma, the rivers: her other sisters, and her childhood home in heaven. Together they shared their lives, relating past experiences as they journeyed together. Surprisingly, they found themselves uniting, becoming closer, like the brother and sister that the gods had told them to become. Their conversation was elevated as Bhagirath explained the many plights of the world, Ganga listening empathetically. In her heart she felt a fraternal love grow for her leader and even Bhagirath began looking at Ganga as if she were his younger sister, even though she was eons older than he.

Time began speeding as they trekked through India, and in short time, they reached the vast dry desert where Bhagirath had given his vow. It had been decades and he had not been back since. As he approached it, a knot grew within him, his footsteps slowing to a stop. Ganga stopped beside him, looking out into the desert. For once, she did not rush ahead, but rather waited, prompting him to speak.

Looking into the dusty, cracked horizon, Bhagirath felt a swell of emotions within him. He had finally done it. Ganga was here. But he hesitated to let her surge forward. A lump was stuck in his throat, and he felt himself choking up.

Pushing past the emotions, he spoke, “It has been so long. So long that I had forgotten what it had looked like. This is the desert where my ancestors lie. This is the great ocean that Brahmarishi Agastya had swallowed. I had been but a mere boy when I had left this place, vowing not to return without you, Ganga. And now that we are here, I do not want you to leave my side. I wish we could stay together, siblings united.” He swiped away the stray tears that had gathered at his eyes at the thought of leaving her side. She had been with him for such a short amount of time, but he had become her older brother. He wanted to protect her, but he knew, for the sake of the world, she would have to leave him. The only thought that made their parting less bitter was that she would not be too far away from him.

“You, my sister, are my savior, our savior, the Earth’s savior. I promise that my descendants and I will look after you like our own, but you promise me that you will continue blessing the Earth the same way you were thrice blessed by Brahma, Shiva and Sage Jahnu. Do so, and I will let you fill the ocean with your waters.”

“Bhaiyya, I promise. The same way you looked after me, I will watch over the Earth. I will protect the world and bless its inhabitants. Now, let me do my part and help you fulfil your vow.” Ganga gently touched his arm, asking for permission. Bhagirath nodded and Ganga burst past him, flooding the barren earth. She coursed into the land, soaking the earth, filling the vast basin until it was tumbling and splashing, a full, watery ocean. Bhagirath looked behind him as their path had become a mighty river, ebbing to and fro into a colossal ocean. His ears strained, and beyond the crashing waves, he could just make out a sigh. His ancestors had finally found rest in heaven. Bhagirath bowed to the great ocean as Brahma once again flickered into existence.

He turned to Bhagirath and proclaimed, “Great Bhagirath you have completed your task. You have fulfilled the vow of your ancestors and have become glorious. When your time on Earth is complete, I will welcome you with open arms into heaven. For now, your kingdom awaits you.”

“Thank you, Lord Brahma, for helping me with this task. I shall remain forever grateful.”

Brahma faded and Bhagirath turned to make his way back to his kingdom. However, as he stepped away, a voice stopped him. “Bhaiyya, wait!”

Bhagirath turned back to see Ganga floating above her river, waiting to say one more thing.

“Bhagirath bhaiyya, I want to say one more thing. You have been my companion on my largest adventure so far. For taking care of me so well, I would like one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“I want to be known as Bhagirathi. I want to be known as your younger sister.”

Bhagirath chuckled, “As you wish.” Grinning brightly, Ganga swished down and with a final wave, she became one with her water. For a moment, her water pushed past her banks and washed over Bhagirath’s feet, almost as if asking for a blessing. Raising his hand, Bhagirath blessed his younger sister and headed home, his task finally completed.

#mahabharat #not mahabharata this time #indian mythology #triveni writes #Shiva #Ganga #Bhagirath #Indian lore

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matildastuartsold · 5 years

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hshq task twelve: a timeline

it reads as a semi lil self para’s and part news report...bc i didn’t wanna self para as a 3 year old. tw: abortion, implied drug used, mentions of underage, mentions of age differences, image issues, pregnancy, mentions of possible grooming, body image issues, possible signs of bulimia,

december 19th, 1997

for the third time in the last four, almost five years, the town crier of edinburgh stood just inside the gates of holyrood announcing the birth of a third princess, named matilda.

june 18th, 2001

at three years old, princess matilda made her first public appearance with her family at the royal highland show. the littlest princess made her appearance well known running off excitedly with yells of “maude-y!” following her, showing off her cartwheeling skills, and waving at everyone who looked especially those with a camera.

november 30th, 2005

she doesn’t know a life without the media and having to parade around them. like today, skipping through st. andrew’s day activities some of her earliest memories surrounded people with cameras desperately clicking and yelling the names of her mum and dad, her sisters and her. matilda liked it though, she could simply become the only name they yelled with a simple smile or a wave. she liked it, but she was tired of being called matilda. she didn’t want to be called matilda, she wanted to be called tilly, like her friends all called her. it’s why she turned around with a frown at the reporter who yelled matilda. “i’m not matilda! my name is tilly!” crossing her arms across her chest, she stuck her tongue out annoyed at the her full name. even with her mother and father’s scold of “matilda!” and her tilly let her father scoop her up in his arms making a face at the paparazzi as she was carried away.

january 4th, 2010

“but i don’t want to go to gordonstoun!” not that even mattered, ever since her mother became a queen last year it was never even worth putting in her own thoughts, not that it ever had been. now though it was going against the queen, not just her mum. tilly just didn’t want to go to gordonstoun with her sisters. it seemed so boring. still the press release was already out, trunks already in her room ready to be back. “if i have to go someone will regret it!”

september 19th, 2011

crushes were nice, all the boys in her year, the year above her, some even in margot’s year paying her attention, she’d be dumb if she didn’t enjoy it. so what if she kept sneaking out with them to smoke cigarettes and drink beers on the roof. she likes the attention from it. what was the school going to do? make her do laps? please, she wouldn’t do it and they couldn’t make her. so she found herself giggling at whatever connaugh mcdaniels was saying and took the sip of beer he was offering, because all eyes were on her in a way that they hadn’t been before.

april 31st, 2013

“i’m the fucking may queen!” throwing her head back in laughter, tilly twirled around the flower crown a top her head never moving. sneaking out to go to beltane, was the smartest decision she’d made in a while. falling back against her favorite duke to be she’d been going almost all the way with frequently, she took the flask from her best friend, georgia, taking a far too long sip of the vodka. she was happily drunk, feeling the brisk spring air on the hill hit her. she didn’t care about the obvious presence from people taking pictures of them. it didn’t matter she was drunk and determined for her goal of the night, losing the v card. “richard,” she smirked up at him. “we should head back to the tent, your may queen demands it.” letting out a giggle she moved back going for another twirl as she reached for his hand.

july 27th, 2014

she still doesn’t understand what the big deal is, her mother pacing back and forth going on and on about propriety. catherine looking like a mirror of her mother’s upset. her father’s disappointment. “i’m sixteen, just because i’m under this bloody crown doesn’t mean i’m not gonna go out and have fun!” her eyes glanced at the various magazine and newspaper headlines in front of her. she doesn’t see the issue with it, minus the invasion of privacy, in the picture she’s just pressed against the wall making out with one of her guy friends. she’s hearing the words come from everyone’s mouths but she’s not listening. just blankly sitting there.

february 3rd, 2015

“you’re what?! tilly you can’t sleep with your math tutor!” tilly turned at the exclamation from her friend, a look of confusion on her face. “why not? i need to pass and he apparently wants to fuck a princess it’s a win win! besides he’s not that old i doubt he’s even thirty.” besides it was better than any of the guys in their class asking to lose it with her. at least it would be good and she’d pass. she didn’t see an issue. plus it felt good to be wanted, to have someone want her and not want her to be like her sisters. who cared if he was a married man approaching his 30s? he wanted her.

september 10th, 2015

she woke up on her bathroom floor in just the lingerie she wore under her dress before going out. not that she cared after all, she’d probs look skinnier from throwing up all the drinks from the night before. she brushed her teeth, throwing her hair into a ponytail. Wiping off the remnants of her make up from the night before she looked on at the stranger in her bed. “get out before a walk of shame is too embarrassing, for your own well being.” Watching the man leave she shook her head curling into bed ignoring her phone continue to blow up again and again, no doubt people seeing pictures of the night before.

may 4th, 2016

“fuck! jesus fucking christ i look awful!” seeing the press release photo on the cover of the magazine sitting in front of her on the table, she picked it up and tossed it straight towards the trash can. looking back at her partner for her textile project, she gave her a look. another example of her being the worst of the family. “tell me why you thought bringing a tabloid where i look awful in would really make a good study environment?” shaking her head, she picked up her phone seeing who could come over tonight, she might be able to convince richard to get on a flight. she’d slept with arthur a few times maybe him? there were more than a few posh boys at oxford she’d met on her visits. shaking her head she motioned at the fabric she brought. “they’re all recycled, should work for what we need.”

january 3rd, 2017

"matilda herietta annabelle stuart how could you be so wildly irresponsible?!” her mother is screaming, her father looks disappointed. she knows she fucked up because it’s just the two of them. having her parents attention on just her, she could probably count the times that’s happened on just one hand alone. she doesn’t regret flashing the paparazzi though, the magazines printed with trainwreck tilly subtle covering where she’d lifted her top, but it was still obvious she had. “i was drunk, it was hogamany, i must have been black out by that point.” she knew it didn’t matter, watching her mother go into another rant. still, it felt nice for once to be the only person that mattered to her parents.

october 31st, 2017

she was didn’t know where she was really not that it mattered. she went up to oxford to party with the posh guys and all her. you could barely call the white lingerie she wore an angel costume, something she thought would an irony. she probably mixed too many liquors and too many drugs together. still she reaches for the hand of the guy she’s leaning on pulls him to a door, hoping one will be a bathroom or a bedroom. with her luck she’ll see what happened tonight on twitter in the morning.

august 7th, 2018

they told her to be on her best behavior, that she’s technically working edinburgh fringe festival. still she thinks she’s doing a charitable deed. she’s buying these poor struggling actors alcohol and then getting into drinking contests with them. it’s all rather sensible if you ask her. she’s doing a charity besides it feels good being the center of attention. she’s sitting on the actual bar, a rather attractive actor from some play or some shit she watched today has his hand on her thigh. why would she do anything else?

september 7th, 2019

she knew that the braemar gathering was a big deal, she’d been to it almost every year of her life. still it didn’t mean she wasn’t bored as hell after a day of it, it’s why she’d pulled richard aside at the noble dinner at balmoral later that evening. her own personal playground as a kid, she knew exactly which cupboard to push him in. it would have been so much nicer if her mother’s fucking cheif of staff hadn’t opened the door when she was on her knees. the yelling wasn’t even bad, it was the punishment. her life being packed into suitcases around her as she sat on her bed back in edinburgh 24 hours later. no what hurt the most was her mother’s last words to her before she got on the plane to dubai, “i wonder if you’ll ever stop disappointing me.”

december 23rd, 2019

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me?! happy birthday, happy christmas, we’re marrying you off to the crown prince of venezuela! how could you do this to me mum? catherine just said-” she doesn’t think she’s ever been more furious in her life. opening the bottle of vodka and lining up the cocaine she said on her. “you know what i don’t care if i was drunkenly with him once, mother it doesn’t mean i want to fucking marry him! you’re ruining my life! forgive me, your majesty. i won’t forget from now on i’m your subject, not your daughter. have a happy christmas, goodbye.” she threw the phone, then threw a shot back looking at the lines she set up. “lola!” she screamed walking towards her suitcase. “i want to look sluttier than a prostitute whose rent is due tomorrow, a christmas present to my mother given my engagement. i don’t want to remember tonight.”

janurary 21st, 2020

she knew for days, something was wrong. she wasn’t how she always was, then she got sick, consistently, three mornings in a row. sitting staring at the line of positive pregnancy tests that were in her bathroom sink she looked at cora rubbing her back comfortingly. “i need to call or text or- there are only two people i don’t make wear a condom and i haven’t slept with richard since september.” grabbing her phone she sent a quick ‘come over now’ text. and threw her phone towards the bed. “burn the tests tonight, get them out of her, taking them to the fucking mcdonalds to throw them away if you have to. they aren’t gonna be anywhere near me though, it can not ruin everything. my mother already hates my existance, she’d send me to the fucking gallows if i ruined her one chance at getting rid of me. not a word of this to her spy either or catherine.”

janurary 24th, 2020

it was cold and she was crying. laying on the chair in the doctor’s office, she held onto cora’s hand like it was her only way of living and she felt so much relief knowing that if she needed it neil would carry her out of the building. “i know, i’m not the model catholic or really any religion, but i still feel wrong, i feel guilty. i don’t know what else to do though.” so she cried, letting her communications advisor and his wife comfort her like they were her parents. sometimes they feel more like parents than her own. when the doctor comes in, tells her its going to pinch and might be uncomfortable, she lets cora distract her with stories of her and neil when they started dating. while she doen’t need him to carry her out, she leans on them both the whole way to car, letting herself come to terms that she wasn’t pregnant anymore.

march 9th, 2020

“félix, i’m going to get fucking wasted at the beach,” she wasn’t sure when she got fucking domestic. she lives with her fiancé, they share a bed, fucking wedding magazines are sent to her. it feels like she’s in a snow globe. one where she barely recognizes who she is. she still looks in the mirror and remembers that if things had been different her stomach would probably have a bump now, not be the flat as it is. so instead, she’s taken to more day drinking, trying not to think about the thing only 6 people in the world know about and why it makes her feel so empty.

#hshqtask012 #this is 2200 words of why tilly is as fucked up as she is #pls send her to therapy #ok her go my triggers #tw abortion #tw pregnancy #tw body issues #tw mentions of bulimia #tw possibilities of grooming #tw mentions of age differences #tw drugs #ok i think thats it?? scrolling is so MUCH WORK #im on a roll tonight tho #*here go #as always i hope u all realize richard is a filler name and its a dick joke

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morganas-pendragons · 5 years

Text

I’m Running To You | B.B.

Before you fade from me.

This will have minor and major Endgame spoilers. You were warned.

I’m really only writing Bucky for @buckychrist now, so this is for you hayley

00000000000

He knows it’s not right from the first time he arrives at your door with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. Sunflowers. The amount of heart that he intentionally puts into your relationship is unlike any of the relationships he had before he fell. He shouldn’t pursue you, but he does. He chases you harder then he’s ever chased anyone, and Bucky is one hundred percent anticipating smacking his face against the ground in the process. He’s anticipating falling,

No. You... You are everything Bucky has been searching for since waking up in the ice. HYDRA had drilled it into his brain from the start - a mantra on repeat in his mind - Unworthy, unloved, bred for war and stained in the blood of millions. A ruthless killing machine incapable of feeling loved. Of being loved.

You had taken his broken form, malleable in your hands, and crafted him into this remarkable man he almost didn’t recognize when he glanced in the mirror. And when he looked at you, oh he knew. Bucky knew you were proud of your creation and proud of him for learning that he could stand on his own feet. That he could be his own man.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t terrified of losing you, though. Terrified of how his heart would betray him when you inevitably died before his eyes, or died by his own hand.

What a nightmare that would be.

2018

Dated for two years, married just a few weeks ago, and now here the two of you stood side by side in arms against the forces of Thanos. You were human - simply mortal - and without any skills like his own. You didn’t have serum flowing through your blood like he and Steve did. You weren’t a genius like Bruce and Tony, but he learned quick after meeting you in 2016 that you were more then capable with a weapon.

After the Compound had dove into chaos, you’d parted from Steve and Sams side in frantic search of Bucky. The two of you had only met weeks before in the slums of Bucharest, when you’d caught him rifling through his jacket for money to purchase his plums. He was sweet, and your heart ached to provide for him.

He just didn't know how much of an influence you’d have.

You gripped his hand in your own and lead him through the alleys that provided cover for your apartment. It was a one bedroom, one bath, but surely big enough for you and your newest acquaintance. He’d been reluctant. You had to reassure him that no one would find you here, and that he’d be safe.

That was a word he very rarely heard anymore. Safe.

Bucky told you about The Soldier from the first night, and made it abundantly clear that you were to not get in his way if HYDRA ever reactivated him with his trigger words.

“I don’t think you get it, James.” You whispered, caressing his cheekbones with the back of your hand. “No matter how much he’d want to, I don’t think The Soldier would be able to hurt me.”

You are still the only person he’s never physically harmed. The Soldier succumbs to the tenderness in your words, the soft gaze of your eyes, and he’s ready to comply to whatever you say because you are and were the only human being who sought to never harm him.

“Why’s that doll?”

“Because in the end, he only wants a home for his aching heart.”

You found him rather easily, but it took some coaxing for The Soldier to believe you were not a threat. It was only after you kicked your gun across the room that he chose to believe you, and then Steve came barging in and well - We all know what happened there.

The point is, he’d never hurt you. And you thought he never would.. not up until the two of you were together in Wakanda. Upon hearing that Shuri Udaku, a mere sixteen year old, was capable of removing HYDRAS brainwashing from Bucky’s mind - you almost forced him into doing it. It required extensive cryosleep, but if it meant there was a possibility of a future, you’d take it.

“Will you be here when I wake up, doll?”

Your lips quirked upward in a smile as the cryo-chamber slowly began to close, and you rested your hand against the lid. Bucky had been particularly skilled in the art of reading lips, and so you murmured, “Until I fade from you.”

You’d fallen in love with him. Gradually, slowly over time, but he’d stolen you alot quicker then you’d been anticipating.

Bucky came out cryo in late 2017, early 2018, but you’d put off marrying each other until he was comfortable with himself. The two of you lived in Wakandas country side and tended to the fields, meditated together, took charge of the children for the other tribes together. It was the closest thing you’d get to a future.

T’Challa came to you in the early days of summer, dressed to the nines in his regal robes, and very politely asked if you wanted a wedding. You were so stunned by the question that it was hard not to say yes.

“I’m sorry.. what did you say?”

T’Challa smiled at your shock and flexed his fingers. “It seems my sister has not kept quiet about your relations with our White Wolf, and so she has convinced our mother and the Dora to prepare a ceremony. Traditionally Wakandan, of course. I’m here to see if you’d accept.”

Of course you’d accept. It would’ve been ridiculous not to.

The ceremony was held in the most beautiful part of the city. You wore the best dress they could provide, which was a marvel in itself, and donned the most beautiful wedding rings you could’ve asked for. There was joy and laughter and song. No one left disappointed.

You went home to your tent that night as Mrs. Bucky Barnes. It was less then a month later when he came back again and asked for the two of you to fight, and now here you stood in the ruins of the Wakandan outskirts with Steve Rogers by your side.

It was deathly silent.

“Well, is that it? Did we-” The word win lingers on your tongue, and somewhere deep inside of you, you know there was a price to be paid. “Steve?”

You realize about 2.5 seconds later that Bucky also simultaneously said the name of the other super-soldier, and your happiness is short lived when the man you love turns to dust right in front of your very eyes.

And then it’s silent again. Silence in the air, silent in your mind, until you begin comprehending the reality of what has just happened: Bucky Barnes is dead. He faded from you before you could catch him.

That’s when you start screaming.

2023

It’d been 5 years since “The Snap” and learning how to adjust to a life without Bucky is the hardest thing you’d ever done. You had buried yourself into taking care of the other Avengers who still lived in the compound. It granted a distraction for a little while, but then you were right back at the beginning. Mourning over Bucky.

Natasha took it upon herself to send you out to Tony. Given that he didn’t live in the Compound any more and instead sought out solace in the country with his daughter and wife, she thought it was the best place for you to find peace.

What you found instead was two of your current best friends and the best god-daughter you could’ve asked for.

“Y/N!” Morgan eagerly pulled on your jeans as you looked over the prints for the machine beside Tony. It had been a few days since Natasha and Steve had left him alone with his daughter after the proposition of traveling through the quantum realm to receive the stones. The only logical way to get your husband and the others back. “Daddy says you like to sing.”

“Your daddy is a liar, Morgan-”

“But he said you used to sing to him all the time!”

You hadn’t sang a note since Bucky had died. You’d lost your voice when he'd gone, and you weren’t planning on getting it back. “Okay, sweet girl. Just cause you’re my favorite Stark, I’ll sing you one of my favorites. Are you okay with that?”

Morgan Stark was a precious, precious girl. A girl who’d get to grow up with her father and would know the story of the woman who had died to save the world.

You gently tucked the youngest Stark into her bed and propped yourself up at her side, fingers carding through her hair as you began to sing, “And the blood will dry.. underneath my nails..”

You’d found him in the aftermath of the battle. Everyone was there - all those who had faded before - ready to face the threat of Thanos and his armies. The gauntlet was missing in action, away from the hands of the Titan, but the only way to resolve the issue was to snap.

And up until the last five minutes, you were sure it was going to be Tony. Tony, who would have sacrificed worlds if it meant that Pepper and Morgan were safe. Tony, who had been held captive by his own demons and forced to face his mistakes time and time again. Tony was not the one who was meant to sacrifice himself for the greater good of the world. He had too much to lose, too much to live for.

“And the wind will rise up to fill my sails...”

Thanos had snapped his fingers, and nothing happened. It wasn’t until he turned around and looked at you - a human who had done nothing special - that he realized his fate. You wielded the gauntlet, rage coursing through your blood stream and determination flashing in your eyes before you said, “I am.. worthy.”

Worthy. Worth. The one thing Bucky had never thought he had, or that he was deserving of. Funny how it’s the minuscule details that come to mind when you’re dying.

“I’m coming home... I’m coming home..”

Keeping your eyes open proved to be difficult. The entire right side of your body had lost feeling almost as soon as you’d snapped, and you knew when the other Avengers came to surround you that this was it. You’d sacrificed yourself for them to get their happy ending.

But you weren't gonna get yours, and neither was he.

“Tell the world I’m coming home.. let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday..”

Steve gently pressed his thumb against the earpiece tucked into his ear as Tony maneuvered you into his arms. “Bucky,’’ He said quietly. “Follow Mjolnir. Hurry.” The super soldier rose his arm and used the hammer as a flag while Bucky hurriedly sought him out. What he wasn’t anticipating was the consequence of whoever had snapped.

You.

“Y/N? Y/N!” You can’t move. Your lungs are deflating, barely taking in air, but it’s just enough to keep your eyes open long enough to see your husband come crashing down at your feet. Chasing you, as he always had been. “What-Stark, can you-”

Tony shook his head as he loosened his grip on your form. There is no hope for a cure. You’d taken that gauntlet very well knowing the consequences of it, of what you were to lose. You just didn’t think you’d miss him more after he came back home.

“We can’t fix her, Barnes.” Tony replied. “This is.. It’s permanent.”

“And though my kingdom awaits, and they’ve forgiven my mistakes..”

“James.” It’s all you could manage, but it was just enough for Bucky to look up at your face. Despite the pain radiating through your bones and the lack of air your lungs were inhaling.. You looked oddly at peace with yourself.

Bucky swallowed the knot growing in his throat as he took your hand. “It’s-It’s okay, doll. I’m gonna be okay. We’re all gonna be okay.” His metal arm slowly rose until his fingers came in contact with your cheek, and he cursed his inability to feel your skin beneath his fingers. “You’ve spent so much time taking care of me.. showing me I was a better man then what HYDRA turned me into. You’ve done your work, soldier. And don’t forget, never forget how much I loved you-”

“I’m coming home.. I’m coming home, tell the world I’m coming.. home.”

It had been rather difficult to keep himself composed in front of you, but Bucky managed to whisper, “Sleep.” just before your eyes fluttered shut and your hand went limp in his own.

There’s a million things that flash before his eyes at that precise moment - all the lives that never came - and then he realized how silent it was in the aftermath of the battle. Thanos’ armies have been vanquished and they’d won the war, but the silence was deafening. They should’ve been celebrating, for Gods sake-

And then he realizes why it’s so quiet. It’s because they’re mourning you, all the people around him who watched as Tony Stark rose from the Earth and cradled your body in his embrace while Rhodey pried the gauntlet from your arm. Those who stood in the background that had ventured back into the world with him, and those who had been influenced by your kindness and softened heart when you’d been working with the Avengers.

But then it hits him, when he starts screaming until his voice is raw, that you are dead. Bucky ran and ran and ran after you and the future you were supposed to have, and because he fell flat on his face, his worst nightmare had come true.

Bucky thought learning how to live again would be possible after they’d buried you at Tonys countryside cabin, but when Steve inevitably leaves him as well, it became too overwhelming. He drowned himself in alcohol and home-videos, and his eyes burned as an hour became days of watching the evolution of your relationship unfold on camera.

And he thinks about the days that never came as the words flow freely from the speakers of his TV.

“Oh Sergeant Barnes... I’m running to you before you fade from me.”

He just hadn’t been fast enough to catch you.

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes x Reader #The Winter Soldier #The Winter Soldier x Reader #Marvel fanfiction #Marvel fanfic #Marvel imagines #Marvel oneshots #Bucky x Y/N #Bucky Barnes x Y/N

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happyfathersday2018images-blog · 5 years

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Happy fathers day card. Paper cut by Valenty on Creative Market… Happy fathers day card. Paper cut by Valenty on Creative Market Source by ZukkyDesign

#Fathers Day Cards Daughter #Fathers Day Cards From Daughter #Fathers Day Cards From Daughter 2018 #Happy Fathers Day Cards From Daughter #Happy Fathers Day Cards From Daughter 2018

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madefate-a · 4 years

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a general timeline of significant events in lex foster’s life, fostered verse. years assumed as if black friday takes place in 2018, offset a few months from the events of the guy who didn’t like musicals that did not transpire. i love taking a shitty town & making it better ... tw for mentions of child abuse, negligence, and alcoholism. ( canon timeline. )

fostered.

nov. 18th, 2000. lex foster is born to evelyn foster; her biological father is not present; lex never learns his identity.

sept. 2005. lex is enrolled in hatchetfield elementary school, beginning kindergarten.

march 2007. second grade: lex gets into a brief argument with her classmate ethan green that turns physical on her end – punching him in the face when he informs her quite seriously that girls can’t fight. he attempts to stand up for her but her mother is called regardless. she sports bruises for the next week, but CPS is not called at this time and no intervention occurs.

spring 2009. hannah foster is born; lex holds hannah through the first few nights she’s home when hannah cries – this becomes the status quo for their relationship & evelyn’s lack of relationship.

summer 2009. evelyn foster drops hannah; hannah appears unhurt but evelyn doesn’t take her to a doctor; lex refuses to let anyone hold hannah after this; not very much changes in the foster household after that decision, but hannah is never dropped again.

august 2009. after a summer that went relatively quietly, social services shows up at the fosters’ door. the day they arrive is the last day that lex or hannah see their mother; within the span of two days, lex is introduced to gen. john mcnamara as the person who is now, ostensibly, their guardian for the foreseeable future.

august 2009, continued. the entire month is a period of adjustment; lex is constantly on guard around their guardian -- whom she calls john -- and immediately moves hannah’s baby furniture into her own room ( with john’s help once he realized what she was doing ). she also refuses to let john hold hannah ( until he talks to her about it and allows lex to show him the way she holds hannah ).

january 2010. one of lex’s usual nightmares gets too difficult to handle and she wakes up yelling, startling hannah and rousing john; she is terrified that she’s finally angered john, but he talks her through her panic and comforts her; she hangs onto him and asks him to stay until she falls asleep.

spring 2011. over the last few years, the foster-mcnamara household settles into a comfortable routine. hannah receives early intervention and support for her specific learning styles; lex uses more ASL than invented gesture to supplement hannah’s vocabulary; hannah’s first word is an approximation of lex’s name -- dada is her second.

summer 2013. lex gets a job walking the dogs in the neighborhood -- the idea comes to her after hannah is excited to see neighbors with dogs around and lex realizes she can both make her sister happy and make some money, too.

fall 2013. while cutting class, lex accidentally falls out of a first story window when she attempts to run before getting caught, breaking her arm; she is patched up by becky barnes at hatchetfield general hospital; not long after, john has becky stay at their home for a week; lex isn’t sure what’s happening but she does promise her father to stop cutting class, and offers becky her extra bedding.

fall-winter 2013. lex starts referring to john as her father to other people, but still calls him john to his face.

march 2014. after an altercation between other students in the cafeteria, lex finds herself in trouble for a fight she didn’t cause; john is called and lex is terrified that she has royally fucked up a decent home environment; instead, john defends her in front of the administration and takes both her and hannah our for ice cream that evening.

april 2014. lex gets into a fight with kevin peterson; no one is hurt, but lex realizes that she’s not a fan of her own anger; she asks john to help her practice ways to control her anger, hopefully resulting in fewer verbal confrontations and far fewer fistfights.

september 2014, freshman year. lex enrolls at hatchetfield high ( go nighthawks ! ); she excels more at math, but struggles with reading and her self confidence takes a hit; despite this, her grades remain average.

december 2014. at a school dance, lex experiences her first crush with grace chastity. still confused and clumsy with her feelings, she lets the chance to let it become something more go, but remains friendly with grace; she similarly keeps up with her friendship with alice, the daughter of john’s PTA buddy.

june 2015. lex starts smoking pot occasionally; she sells, too, but only to supplement her income, get hannah some extra, fun things, and make sure she has an emergency fund in case things go wrong; she doesn’t drink.

july 2015. the family goes on their first beach vacation; hannah’s a fan and lex -- who loves the beach -- is delighted; she tries to play it cool, but fails spectacularly at it.

september 2016, sophomore year. lex’s grades start to rise for the first time since starting high school when she is able to take shop class; she completes her first project – a jewelry box that she gives to hannah.

october 2016. after overhearing some classmates snidely gossiping about john, lex confronts them in an altercation that turns physical; she refuses to tell anyone why it escalated and why she wound up having to defend herself.

november 2016. lex turns sixteen just before the holidays and gets a job at toy zone at the lakeside mall; her first official shift is on black friday weekend 2016.

january 2017. after a family emergency over the holidays pulls mr. houston out of school indefinitely, shop class is cancelled; john, friends with jane for some time, spends time extending a hand to help mr. houston in the aftermath; lex struggles with her grades and her self-confidence without her favorite class, but works on seeing past her own problems in the wake of the houstons’ tragedy.

february 2017. lex catches ethan green attempting to steal collector’s item card sets at the lakeside toy zone. they share a moment, and the next day ethan begins to act as if they have known each other for years.

april 2017. lex and ethan share their first kiss under the bleachers of hatchetfield high’s field, where they are ducking out of sight of the rest of their PE class.

may 2017. lex starts alternating between calling john john and old man / pops.

june 2017. lex has a meeting with the dean of students about her grades, which aren’t bad enough to put her on probation but worrying since they’d taken a dip in the fall; self conscious and self-defeating, lex cries for the first time in front of ethan who encourages her; after picking up hannah from school at the end of the semester, ethan cheers hannah up for the first time after hannah is bullied, and lex realizes that she is in love with ethan.

august 2017. ethan is invited to the annual foster-mcnamara beach vacation; he surprises lex with a wonderfully cheesy date night on the trip; lex buys hannah a charm bracelet with the promise that they will start buying charms for every cool place they visit, and john buys her her first charm: a little sun.

november 2017. that holiday season at toy zone, lex gets very good at handling pepper spray.

spring 2018. lex gets into her first fight in a while, unable to control herself when some of the usual snide remarks she gets target hannah instead; ethan has her back and joins in; john patches them up when they get home, and instead of disappointment, he offers to teach them the basics of hand to hand self defense; they continue to practice through the summer.

august 2018. on the annual beach trip, lex and ethan talk about their future; lex is conflicted -- she doesn’t think she’s college material, and doesn’t know if she wants to be; she floats the idea of getting into acting and ethan tells her that he wants to be with her, no matter where they go or what they do; lex posits that it might be nice to see the rest of the world -- settle in california for a while, take hannah there when she’s old enough so that they can live in sunshine.

early november 2018. john starts coming home from work more and more exhausted; he asks lex if she’ll take off from work on the holiday weekend, but she tells him that’s fireable on their biggest day of the year.

black friday, 2018. cue the apocalypse.

#( lex. )#( lex hc. )#( lex timeline. )#❰ ❛ called to serve. ❜ ( VERSE / FOSTERED. ) ❱#imagine if i put this much effort into my lesson plans ....#i would NEVER they don't deserve that kind of effort

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bbyboybrock--archived · 5 years

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Serendipity (C.B) | Chapter 13

Summary: Serendipity: (n) the chance occurrence of events in a beneficial way

Popular youtuber Isabella Hart, known as Bella to her audience, bends over backwards to separate her youtube life from her private life. Known for her overall clean content and her bubbly attitude, Isabella has a wild side to her that only those inside the youtube community know about. When Bella meets Colby during one of the trap house parties she finally meets someone she can be her genuine self with. When trouble arises after their meeting, will Bella be able to hand the pressure or will she destroy her relationship with Colby as well as herself in the process. [This starts in 2018]

Written: 2019

Word Count: 3,065

Warnings: swearing and suicide

(I put a **trigger warning** right before the triggering part of the chapter and **trigger warning over** at the end of that part so you can read around it)

Serendipity Masterlist

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with?" Colby asks for the millionth time.

My mother asked to meet with me. When I told Colby, he was worried that something would happen like last time and he wouldn't be there to protect me. After texting back with my mother she assured me that it was only going to be the two of us. She even suggested meeting at the diner we used to go to when I was little. I only agreed because of that. I have a lot of good family memories that don't include my father at the diner it brings me some comfort that this will go well.

"Babe, it's fine. Just come over in like two to three hours and we can hide from the world together." I reassure him.

The leak only happened three days ago. I've spent the past two days locked in my apartment. I refused to see or speak to anyone. Colby only partly obeyed my wished. He stayed at the house to give me my boundaries but he would still text and call me constantly to check on me. I needed a few days alone to try to process everything and I can't do that properly if Colby is cuddling with me all day; that would only make me forget about my problems.

"Okay, I'll come over soon. If you aren't there I'll let myself in and wait for you."

"That's fine. I'll see you later."

I open the familiar door to the diner. It looks the same as it did years ago. Suddenly, I'm nine years old again and my mother picked up my brothers and me early from school to take us to the doctor's office for check-ups. I spot my mother familiar brown hair. A small smile appears on my face. Maybe this the time will be different. As I walk closer to her I make sure to hide my smile.

"Hello, mother," I say as I sit down across from her. She looks up from her phone and her seemingly constant disappointed face does not disappear.

"Isabella, I can't stay long." She says as she puts her phone away.

"Then, why did you say to meet at a diner? We could have met at a Starbucks or—"

"We saw those pictures and videos of you." My mother says flatly. She barely makes eye contact and stares mostly at her cup of coffee before looking at me. No, it's more like she's looking through me.

"Y-you did? What do you mean by 'we'?"

"All of us, your cousin was the one to tell me. The entire family has seen them at this point. We also heard about you being fired from your management company. " What she doesn't say but I know she means that everyone has seen them including him.

"The situation is more complicated than you think. I didn't know about them being taken."

"Do you really think I would believe a single thing you've said after what you've put this family through?" Her eyebrows furrow but she speaks in a hushed voice.

"Excuse me?" My slightly raised voice only seems to anger her more. She gives me a look that warns me to be quiet.

"After you... spread those lies about what your father was doing to you, that damaged our family image."

"I didn't lie. They actually did happen. Why would I—why would anyone lie in detail about that?"

"I've read about girls like you who lie about things just to get attention or because something is wrong mentally. We gave you enough attention growing up so it must be the latter."

"I have never lied to you in my entire life." My voice is low but my voice is strong enough for her to hear the seriousness in my tone.

"So secretly moving out of the house on your 18th birthday and tell me you were going to be out with friends isn't lying?"

"I had to get out of there. I had to put myself first and leave before things got worse."

"I don't remember raising such a selfish whore."

That stung. I pause for a second trying to call myself down.

"I needed a way to numb the pain and block out what was happening at home. I couldn't talk to anyone and that's my fault. I didn't want Joey and Benji to be pulled out of the house and have their lives ripped apart. I didn't want you to have to lose all three of your kids as well as your husband. Even when I was going through all that I put you and my older brothers first. I should have told grandma or a teacher or anybody else."

"Stop fixating on the story you created in your head. Your father is a great man who would never lay his hand on any child, especially his own daughter."

"You know what mom, for your sake I've been dancing around this because I didn't want to cause you more pain than this information. But I'm going to say it because it is no longer healthy for me. He raped me, mom. Repeatedly for six years, dad raped me in my own bedroom at night when you were fast asleep. Before that, for as long as I could remember, he molested me almost daily. I know that you don't want to believe it and that's it hard to believe but it's true. He threatened me to avoid me from saying anything and when I finally got the courage to tell someone, you didn't believe me. You called me a liar and told everyone in the family that I was mentally unstable and told them not to believe me if I told them what was happening at home. Now you're going to sit here, in one of the places that I have so many happy memories, and do it all over again?" My mother looked taken aback by my words.

As she is about to open her mouth to reply the waitress comes over to the table and places a water cup in front of me. She looks between my mother and I. Maybe she could sense the tension between us and tried to defuse it. Maybe she's worried that we're just going to sit here and not order. I turn to her and nicely say we're fine. I turn back to my mother and see that her expression of shock and hurt have not left her face. The waitress leaves and my mother clears her throat and sits up straight.

"Don't call me that?" She says suddenly.

"Don't call you what?" I ask confused.

"Mom or mother or any other variation of the word."

"I don't—"

"When I asked you to meet with me, it was to tell you that you are no longer welcomed as a member of the family."

"Excuse me? You're kicking me out of the family?"

"You're behavior as of late has been unacceptable. Accusing Steven of such things was horrendous and traumatizing for all members of the family. To find out that you've been running around Los Angles like a slut and spreading your legs for any boy with a cute face and partying doing God knows what else is where we have to draw the line. Think about your brothers, who are actually in college trying to do something with their lives? Or your cousins? Your aunts and uncles? You think that just because you're rich enough to ruin your life you can ruin all of ours? We've had enough. You're dragging all of us down with you and tarnishing our family name in the process. I should have aborted you when I had the chance."

"I wish you had, not being born at all would probably have been better than being born into this shit show. Not that you'd care but do you know how many times I almost killed myself before I told you about what was happening? Or how much those thoughts multiplied when you told me that I was lying? Just to make things easier for everyone, I thought it would have been better to die."

"Maybe you should have, you would have saved everyone from going through all that you put us through." I stare at her in disbelief as she brushes off what she just said and reaches into her purse to grab her wallet. I quickly pull at mine and grab a $20 bill and a $50 bill. I slam the $20 bill on the table in front of her.

"No, no Lisa. You invited me out, the least I can do is pay for your coffee. Keep the change." I say flatly before getting up to leave. Before walking out of the diner I place the $50 bill in the tip jar. If they had to watch that loving family moment, they might as well get a tip from it.

When I walk out of the diner I'm visibly shaking. My face is dry and it's like my body is about to burst from all the pent up emotion. I try my best to keep it in because the last thing I need is for KeemStar talking about me having a mental breakdown in public. My head isn't even controlling my body anymore. I start walking and don't stop until I'm inside a small liquor store. I walk around mindlessly for a few seconds replaying the conversation in my head over and over again.

When I snap out of it I'm in the section with medical supplies. I eye a bottle of sleeping pills and hesitate before picking it up and walking to the counter. The woman at the counter scans my bottle not even paying attention to me. While she does that I quickly order an uber to take me home.

"Anything else?" She asked, probably wishing I don't so she can go back to doing whatever she was doing before.

"...Yeah, give me a bottle of vodka. I don't care which one." I say as I pull out my debit card. For the first time in my life, she doesn't ID me. She just looks at me for a second and then goes and gets a bottle from behind her before finishing ringing me up. Maybe her day is going just about as great as mine is and she doesn't care either.

When I walk out of the liquor store my Uber was already waiting for me. It isn't until I sit myself down into the car that I realized I bought. The rational part of my brain that usually tells me to stop doesn't. It agrees with the irrational me. Or maybe, the rational part of me is the one controlling me right now. My own mother agrees and mother knows best I guess.

**TRIGGER WARNING**

When I get into my apartment that's when all hell breaks loose. I close and lock the door and slide my back against it and cry and scream. Not only are the emotions I was holding from the conversation with my mother surfacing, but it feels like every single emotion I've ever felt is making an appearance too. I made up my mind in the car that I was going to go through with it. The whole time there was a little part of the rational side of me that kept thinking about Colby. I couldn't do this to him or anyone else the little family that I made with his friends over the past few months. But another part of me argues that I always put others before me my whole life, I deserve to put me first for once.

After calming myself down a bit I managed to get myself off the floor and placing the two bottles on the coffee table before getting a few things from my room. I walk out of my room and placed what I grabbed on the coffee table too. I wipe my tears and examine everything in front of me. I grabbed the notebook where I document everything about mine and Colby's relationship, a piece of paper, a pen, and an envelope. I can't make the biggest commitment of my life without letting Colby know how I feel and how none of this is his fault.

After pouring all my feelings and thoughts for Colby I scribble his name on the envelope and tuck it into the notebook. I took a few shots from the vodka bottle before tearfully taking small handfuls of the sleeping pills until the bottle was finished. I sat on the couch with the vodka bottle in one hand and my phone in the other. I continue to take sips; the taste seems to be numb to my mouth but still burns my throat as I force it down. I scroll through pictures of Colby that you have in your camera roll. I want his smiling face to be the last thing I see before I die. He's not going to be smiling when he finds out but this is how I want to remember him. As I scroll I see that Colby is calling me. Without thinking I answer the phone.

"Hello?" I say slowly.

"Hey babe, I'm walking up to your apartment right now. Are you home yet?" I can hear the happiness in Colby's voice as he speaks on the other end. Part of me starts to feel sad.

"Y-yeah." I choke out. I start crying more than I was before.

"How did it go with your mom?"

"Colby... I fucked up...I'm sorry... I made a mistake." I couldn't help but slur a bit. The tears are falling faster as I thinking about Colby finding me and my last memory of Colby won't be a happy one.

"What are you talking about? Are you drunk?"

Before I could say anything Colby suddenly appeared in front of me. I start crying harder, this wasn't supposed to happen. I didn't want him to see you like this. To make matters worse I feel myself slowly slipping. I'm going to die in Colby's arms and ruin his life.

"Hey, why are you crying? What happened?" Colby says as he takes the bottle out of my hand and tried to wipe my tears.

"Colby, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I cry out. My voice barely making it out of my throat.

"Speak up. I can't hear you and I want to help."

"Notebook..." Was all I could say while pointing behind him. I wanted him to get the notebook but I also wanted him to see the empty bottle next to it. I started slumping down on the couch. My eyelids were getting heavier with each passing second. This is not how this is supposed to go. I watch as Colby looks at me confused. He turns around and picks up the notebook. Before he turns back around he slowly picks up the pill bottle.

"Isabella... You didn't... Oh, fuck." I watch as Colby drops the notebook and pulls out his phone.

"I'm...s...sorry" I mumble out.

"Fuck! Izzy, don't close your eyes— Hello..." Everything drifts off into peaceful darkness.

**TRIGGER WARNING OVER**

****

I wake up to the sound of a constant beep. I open my eyes and quickly shut them due to the brightness of the room. I try to rub my eyes but both of my hands are tied to something. I open my eyes to see white, fluffy fabric around both of my wrist. For a second I'm confused but then everything comes back to me. The leak, my meeting with my mother, Colby coming to my apartment early— all of it came flooding back. I examine the room and see a familiar brown haired boy sitting this his head in his hands.

"Col...by..." I whisper out. My throat feels raw and I can barely talk. His head perks up and he stares at me for a second. I can see that his eyes are red and so are his cheeks. His face is still wet with tears. It breaks my heart that I did this to him.

"You scared the shit out of me." He says while walking over to me. He stares at me for a second before going in to hug me softly, not in the near body crushing like he always does. He hugs me as if he were to apply too much pressure I would break.

"I'm sorry."

"Stop worrying about me for a second. Listen, I don't have time before they realize that you're awake and they kick me out. I just don't want you to freak out but they might try to put you on a suicide watch and I wouldn't be able to see you for about 72 hours. I'm going to write my number on you because you are allowed to call me. You probably already know my number but just in case you get overwhelmed I'll write it for you. They're going to talk to you first to see if you need to stay." Even now when I've hurt him in probably the worst way possible, he's still taking care of me. I look at his face and see the stress from who knows how long he's been waiting for me written all over it.

"Colby—" I'm cut off by a nurse who walks in and tells Colby it's time to leave. I feel tears stream down my face. I can't cover my face or wipe my tears and now I have to let Colby see me like this again.

He said they wanted to talk. To evaluate me for now. I might be worse off if I had to stay here for 72 hours. When I saw Colby's face I instantly regretted what I did. The look on his face when he found me and the state that he was in, I instantly regretted my decision and I hated myself more for even doing it. I never wanted to hurt Colby. Somehow, at that moment, I thought that it would hurt Colby less if I left him a letter. As if a letter would make up for my lack of living. I would have given up on more than myself if I actually died. I would have given up on Colby, my friends, my education, everything I wanted for my life.

#colby #colby brock #colby fanfic #colby fan fic #colby fanfiction #colby fan fiction #colby brock fan fic #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fan fiction #colby brock fanfiction

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ivyylai · 5 years

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letters to Dad

7/2018 Did I really want the whole world to know each time I cried while doing homework or those times when the tears wouldn’t stop while I was driving your car. What about the pain I felt when I found your business card or a note with your calligraphy? Would that make them understand what a loss I had? Would they know that you were the best father anyone could have asked for? Would they know what a huge movie fanatic you were and how I bawled when I tried accessing the charter.net account only to find that I didn’t know the single most important question: your favorite movie of all time. I sat there and cried some more. I wish I spent more time with you. I wish I had stayed in the ICU that last night. 10/2018 I hate myself for wanting to go home because I couldn’t bear to see you attached to all the machines. I replay the moment I sprung up in bed to head to the hospital only to find that mom and I were too late. The past few months after were a complete blur to me, but I know that our family and friends were there. 11/2018 I work in the healthcare field now and I see patients who look a lot like you—the average Chinese dad dressed in Ralph Lauren polos tucked in with faded blue jeans and glasses with rubber nose pads. I wonder if they have someone like me, who idolized you, in their lives. Often times, I see older patients who come in with their daughters or sons, and they have binders filled with past medical history, recent lab and imaging reports. It makes me wish that I had the chance to do the same. It makes me wonder how scary it would have been to go through the illness alone— something that you put yourself through so that you wouldn’t make the family worry. I am angry that you pushed away your illness. I kept going to work and school and now i feel foolish for not giving you more time. The truth is that I was really scared of losing you or worse, watching my hero suffer with something that I couldn’t help with. You will always be a hero in my heart. P Now that I think about it, the average Chinese dad style is currently trending. 1/2019 These past months I haven’t stopped crying. Your passing has been the biggest heartbreak I have ever had to go through. I’ve cried so much and I don’t think I can stop. Everything makes me wish you were here Dad and I’m sorry that I can’t be stronger.

2/28/2019 Had a dream about you Dad. We were in the Monterey Park house, the one with a lot of staircases and patios. You were waiting to take me to school. I broke down crying because I was stressing out over hw and school. You tried giving me money but that wasnt the thing that made me happy. Then I hugged you and told you I love you and that you need to take care of your health. You assured me with your “ge thou la”. It meant you knew and most of the time— it meant that everything would be okay. You were really squishy. Then I woke up crying in pain. I wish I was able to tell you. I haven’t dreamed about you in so long. Maybe because I’ve been afraid of missing you or afraid of facing reality. I’m still numb and I’ll never stop being in so much pain. Dad I love you. I love you so much. Please take care of yourself and Grandpa. He passed away recently too. I hope you get to see your parents, brother, and sister. I hope you’re all truly happy up there.

5/11/2019 A-bah. This year has been really hard on me. There were countless amount of days where I couldn’t find the strength to get out of bed and I stayed confined to our house while the world kept turning outside. I feel guilty for not being stronger, the way you would have wanted. Many times it feels as if my world stopped turning while everyone else moved on. Dad, I’ve been trying to fix it— I’m trying so hard to be happier, to do better things for people and for myself. But I’m still numb and I don’t know where to go from here. Dad, I’m really scared, lonely, and lost. I’m still hurt and I’m so sorry I am not stronger.

5/12/2019 Dad, it’s Mother’s Day. I know it is silly to feel sad on Mother’s Day because you always told me that it’s a day dedicated to our hardworking and talented mother. Last year, mom had a huge surgery— and I remember you woke me up on the couch to make sure I spent the night with her while she was recovering at San Gabriel Valley Medical hospital. I spent the whole night with her then. Little did I know that you were actually trying your best to avoid the hospital because you were sick inside, ridden with unbearable amount of nerve pain and nausea. But the year prior to her surgery, do you remember when I paid for dinner after I got off of work at my restaurant job? We ate Korean bbq, which was also when you warned me to drive safely after only 1 shot of soju. I had just started driving then and I thought your comments were unnecessary. I will always treasure that memory with me as the ability to be financially stable enough to afford a nice dinner with my entire family, including my brother’s family. I remember you had so much fun that night and I hope you were proud of me. I’m now president of my school club and I work with sick patients every day. It’s still extremely painful to know you are no longer here but I hope you are smiling as you see me make a difference in the world. 6/5/2019 Happy birthday A-bah. Today was a pretty good day at work. I thought a lot about how lucky I am to have been your daughter. Many people have fathers who were too busy working to give their children time. Some people didn’t even have fathers and some people had fathers who were unhappy with themselves so they inflict unhappiness upon their family. Not me, I was fortunate enough to be born to you, a humble, generous, good father who was sometimes too good to be true. You were always lenient with me and gave me time to learn from my own mistakes. You let me believe that I could do anything that I wanted. As a little girl, you spoiled me with toys and gifts every weekend, you fed me only the finest of foods even though we were not a rich family. You made me think that I was the luckiest little girl in the world and I still believe that. Any one who has ever crossed paths with you can would agree that you were a good man. One that worked hard to provide a beautiful home to his wife and kids. You were a humble man with a humor and you taught me what it means to be human: to not have all the money in the world but to live comfortably, eat just enough, and to be happy. I still miss your sashimi chef skills in the kitchen and I miss the loving phrase of “did you eat yet?” that you would ask whenever I came home from work or school. I hope I will be able to see you again someday. I’m trying my best to learn how to be comfortable and happy, something I didn’t quite understand before. Don’t worry Dad, I’m doing fine. I have our family and my friends to keep me company until I see you again. You are the best father I could have ever asked for and I am so grateful to have been your daughter.

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eerythingisshaka · 5 years

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I made this post on Monday, and just now got around to edit and post

I’m basically going through the whole plot of Endgame and how I felt, I just had to hammer it out. If you haven’t seen it yet, please come back when you have! First things first, I did not cry! I feel like I’m in the minority, and I swear I am a devoted MCU fan and love Tony and Cap and them, but I did not cry and I’m so disappointed with myself! I got more emotional thinking about it in the days leading to the premiere than I did while viewing. I think it was too entertaining for me to find it sad? Not like movies I cry at aren’t entertaining but the action and substance was making my nerd heart pitter patter so much, I was over the moon and couldn’t come down. I will say though, ever since watching Endgame, every past Marvel movie makes me somewhat emotional. This whole thing is like a high school graduation, like I’m never gonna see my friends together again like this, an era is over! All I have are memories, aaaaggghhhh!

That being said. the movie grips me from the beginning with the song Dear Mr. Fantasy by Traffic. Marvel has some pretty good picks for songs to set the tone for their movies, to this day this song kinda pulls at my heart strings because of its message

Dear Mr. Fantasy play us a tune

Something to make us all happy

Do anything, take us out of this gloom

So of course, we all felt this way with the ending of Infinity War, having so many of our faves being sacrificed to dust for Thanos’ plan of rectifying what he saw as the decrepit state of the universe. Walking away from part one with the villain winning was a fresh slap to my face and a year of agony to find out how the heroes pull this off in the end. Take us out of our gloom Marvel!

And the characters must feel the same, as the film opens with Clint and his daughter doing some archery in their yard as a very American lunch of mayo and mustard hot dogs are being served. As his daughter Lilah is putting things away, Clint calls out to her only to see dust and turns again to his family with the same result. So much for freedom from our gloom, right? In case you somehow forgot, this little scene gives us a friendly reminder of what we were left with in 2018. If that’s not enough, Nebula and Tony playing the little hand goal, paper flick game that is just darling to witness. Nebula plays like a rehabilitated puppy still unsure about being around humans as Tony instructs her like a child on every development of the game. Her little perk up when he announces her win is so cute as they shake hands, finally sealing her character development from ruthless, blood-thirsty appeaser of a sadistic father, to a more stoic, regretful soft spoken but hoarse matured version of herself. All the while, Tony is beginning to starve from being malnourished and depleting oxygen. Nebula sets him in a piloting chair as he drifts off, losing consciousness until the homie we have all assumed would be coming appears as a glow in his irises, Carol Danvers aka Captain Marvel.

Carol flies the ship back to Tony’s compound where Cap, Rhodey, Natasha, and Pepper wait for him to descend. We get a moment with him and Cap that is sweet as Cap walks him down, Tony tells him he lost Peter Parker, an obviously huge loss for this to be the first thing he mentions. The warmth is lost quickly though as the next step of Tony’s grief comes afoot: anger and finger pointing. Tony, on an IV and all, is relentless as he festers in bitterness while lashing out at Cap and company that the fight was lost and even encouraged by Cap because they were together. This optimism is obviously not enough for Tony, who grows weary of Cap’s positivity, opting that he finish the work alone or that Danvers takes on the task herself before collapsing from exhaustion.

Carol, Thor and the gang have a slight dick measuring contest on kicking Thanos’ ass once and for all before Nebula offers to take them straight to him. And where is he? Why on a farm on a planet in the galaxy, nursing his wounds from the snap. His entire right side is burned to a crisp due to the snap, and at the same time has obliterated the stones much to their dismay. Thor wastes no time in chopping off Thanos’ head, a little too late but satisfying none the less. However, in the end, the stones are nowhere to be found, the last person to have them is dead, and no one from the snaps is back yet. Cue music!

So, the gloom we are supposed to be rescued from, when does that start right? Not for another five years according to a time lapse card. Our heroes have no means of figuring out the solution to the snap; Cap forms a support group for survivor’s, Natasha has grown out her blonde hair and is constantly checking in on happenings around the world, and universe since the snap, jumping at even the mention of an earthquake. Rhodey briefs her on a terrible killing spree of gang members that appear to have a style that is well known to them as Clint Barton’s aka Hawkeye. Despite Rhodey’s hesitance Natasha insists he keeps an eye on him, inferring that she may track him down eventually. (Quick side note here, something to be seen as a possible plot flaw: Hawkeye’s bloodlust and disregard for lives after losing his whole family in the snap isn’t dug into very deeply after this. Rhodey said it’s so bad he didn’t even wanna find him! But there wasn’t any in fighting or push back after that between them. He has one instance of almost interacting with his family on a test run for time travel which is against the rules, but other than that he isn’t killing people recklessly or even triggered to tears or drinking incessantly over his loss. But more on Thor in a minute).

If it hadn’t been for that rat running across the panel in Scott Lang’s van to activate his return from the Quantum realm who knows how long, if ever, would they figure out the means of traveling back to get the stones. I was so glad I watched Antman and Wasp right before seeing Endgame, so I knew the van, Cassie, and a little bit about the Quantum Realm. I’m actually upset that I didn’t realize the realm could be used for their benefit because I was always betting on the Time Stone being the corrector in all this, but anyway. Scott returns highly confused as he realizes the state of the world since his entrapment in the realm. Seeing his baby girl become a young lady was a powerful scene to witness, and had my heart dent a little bit, but I held it together. Soon after that, Scott makes his way to find Cap and Natasha, explaining how 5 years was really five hours for him, so time is different in the realm which could possibly mean something for them getting the dusted back. At one point in the movie, I’m blanking on which comes first but for now I’ll dive into this bit, we are reintroduced to Bruce Banner as Hulk…as one person. I completely forgot that we didn’t see Bruce in trailers, which is for this reason. Comic book followers would know, but there is a iteration of Bruce Banner becoming Professor Hulk, so he functions as his normal scientist self, while also being a big green being. Oddly enough, it does not take long for me to grow accustomed to The Bruce Hulk hybrid, he is hilarious and sweet and more confident even then he was as a regular man despite his appearance. He has fans, people love him and this is a far cry from when we are introduced to him in the original Avengers as Nat tracks him down somewhere in Southeast Asia, a nervous wreck loner who is quick to anger. I could see this Hulk being fanfic fodder, not my cup of tea, but he was just that damn appealing, I could see it.

But even with Bruce’s brain, time travel isn’t exactly hammered down as an absolute possibility so they reach out to another source on the matter. Which brings me to my love/hate relationship with Tony. I ADORE that he finally had a baby with Pepper, Morgan “Cussin Queen” Stark. Tony is living his best life in the natural air in his log cabin, as off grid as he possibly can be before Black Widow, Cap, and Lang pull up to question the possibilities ahead of them. The strength of his cold shoulder gave me an insatiable chill down my spine. Tony is the King of Petty, but rarely passive so I was surprised by that moment of mean girl attitude from him. But luckily he served up something to drink (I’m thinking it’s iced coffee or chocolate milk. I’m still confused by what that held.) Tony basically tells them they are crazy and hoping for nothing, because he’s good where he is. He has his girls and no stress which is honestly what the Avengers always seem to guarantee for him since joining the group with SHIELD under Nick Fury’s insistence years ago. I do wish I could remember the theories and scientific laws he said would be fucked up with their plan, just to see if they are real ones but also I love when Tony just spouts his knowledge like it’s IKEA instructions. He makes it seem so simple until you have to break it down, and up until this point Scott seemed like the smartest one on the team but really Tony could’ve been figured this out if he wasn’t so granola now, which is great and happy for him, but he really did give up very quickly. Once again, probably good reason, self-care. But still.

Gotta say, I love a selfish Tony though. Quick shoutout to Robert Downey Jr. in showing his chops by bringing the emotional fortitude to this Disney movie. The man has been THROUGH IT and has had enough. Tony only has so much optimism in him that the cheerleading squad can provide before his is completely done and baby was DONE.

But without Tony’s help they test run moving through the quantum realm only to discover what Tony says later, that time kept moving though Scott instead of him moving through time, making him a baby, and old man, a kid again, and back to an adult. But with a fancy time GPS Tony doctor’s up on the fly after discovering that the group isn’t crazy about the time travel being an option, they are good to go like it’s day one! (Another side note to Paul Rudd aka Scott Lang giving us much needed comic relief. I have never laughed so hard at my precious baby trying to eat a taco in my life. Also, Cap’s yeehaw attire in this scene? The checkered white shirt with his dark jeans pulled up? Truly save the horse and ride the cowboy instead man.)

Now at this point we have to check in on Thor, our sweet pirate angel. How has he fared? Him, Valkyrie, and the surviving Asgardians establish their own town on Earth. Thor and Rocket go to find him, with a preview from Valkyrie of what Thor’s mental state is by the piles of beer kegs outside. So, when they enter his home, giving a wave to Korg and Miek playing video games on the couch, Thor tumbles out behind Thor and Rocket reaching for another cold on, camera to his back. By now we can see his hair is overgrown and greasy, and his midsection has a new pair of love handles we aren’t used to seeing on our svelte, brutish god of thunder. So when he turns around, audience erupts in the theaters, as do I, to see him now looking like a melted ice cream cone with a beer belly that somehow still has some toned abs on top if you look closely, paired with some man titties to complete all billowing over his pajama pants to complete his depression ensemble. This was more shocking to me than the Hulk/Banner hybrid reveal. We hadn’t seen an image of Thor outside of him giving Carol Danvers the Stormbreaker scare test in the previews, so thanks for another surprise. Despite his crumbling emotional stability at even the mention of Thanos’ name (tip of the hat to Chris Hemsworth for making my heartache with every crack in his voice), I have to get on my soapbox and say Thor’s body is beautiful! He is a supreme King, deliciously made who can still smash any pair of cheeks to ash and dust with the power Mjolnir in each thrust quicker than any counterfeit gauntlet. Just watch him later on, you’ll see! I’d have that belly slapping on top of me in a quantum realm millisecond after he takes a shower and attends therapy. A lil pudge ain’t killed no part of his power, whew. Don’t make me shout.

Back to plot, with the promise of beer, Thor the Dude tags along to start the plan of going back to retrieve infinity stones. After a synopsis of each one and where they were located, the crew drums up the plan to retrieve each stone from the past, bring them back to the future to put into a new gauntlet and snap the other half of life’s creatures back. This part of the movie is so stellar because if you have watched past Marvel movies (the first Avengers, Gaurdians of the Galaxy, Captain America First Avenger, and Thor Dark World) you will recognize the scenes that are featured with their past selves going through their past-current scenes. Natasha and Clint go to Vormir for the Soul stone, which I am surprised Nebula did not warn them that someone would have to die to retrieve it. What if two characters that didn’t love each other went for the Soul stone, is it over and done? But luckily, or unluckily, Clint and Natasha are able to get the stone with a sacrifice of Natasha’s life (who honestly sacrificed herself but it counted. And I need so much more clarity on the specs of the soul stone, it ain’t even funny. Will we ever see what the realm Gamora and Black Widow are in is like?) These two characters have been last on my list always so the scene was crazy watching them battle back and forth for a chance at ending their lives but the end result didn’t hit my heart but still great. I kinda would’ve wished little Gamora was there again to talk to us.

Then Hulk has to go see Ancient One to retrieve the time stone, which she will not relinquish until Hulk says that Strange gave it up willingly. On his word alone, she gives it to him, sensing the imminent danger that could come that is worse than the alternate reality she faces for not having the time stone with her. Then Rhodey and Nebula go to Morag for the Power Stone. So this is the first sign of overall trouble in their plan because apparently having two Nebula’s mix memory frequencies that reveal the whole entire plan to Thanos. I thought for sure at some point that Nebula’s eye was gonna have to be dug out to ensure the completion of the mission but it winds up that Nebula and Gamora take her hostage before past Nebula takes current Nebula’s place with the crew going back with their stones, none the wiser. Not even Rhodey gives her a check in like “why did you not come back with me when I jetted back to the future? what happened?” Nothing! The death of Natasha kind of takes precedent over anything else and leave Nebula to finish off bringing Thanos back with her to wreak havoc.

Lastly, Cap, Tony, and Scott are in New York circa Avengers number 1, fighting the space aliens and keeping Loki from the tesseract. And I am not exaggerating when I say this part of movie is possibly the greatest cinematic feature I have ever seen, or will ever see my natural life. You have Tony, creeping in the shadows to get Antman ready to help retrieve the tesseract, all the while admiring Cap’s ass! He does it, critiquing that his outfit does nothing for his ass, when we all know nothing holds back them cheeks from making an appearance. Scott, ever the voice of standom, downplays Tony’s critique and coins his rear end as “America’s Ass”. I EXPLODED. Ever since Captain America: the First Avenger, I have pined, no, thirsted, nay, LUSTED for that man in Marvel cinema. He has the BAWDY to be Cap, and never slacks. I have also always been a big fan of Tony and Cap having a torrid love affair that Marvel refused to implement but teases anytime they stare deeply into each other’s eyes or argue feistily until they are nose to nose, just get a room you two! Ten points to Gryffindor for feeding the fans what they want!

So, New York is the only place that doesn’t go smoothly, as Cap retrieves the scepter containing the Mind Stone after a quick “Hail Hydra” to throw off the double agent SHIELD opponents from Winter Soldier. All this time, Tony and Scott lose the tesseract in a freak incident that causes the case to fall into Loki’s vicinity, who picks up the cube and disappears to God knows where. And it is never figured out where past Loki goes, or what timeline he creates for himself now that he has the tesseract at his disposal with no one to oppose him. That is another thing I would love to know, all these alternate realities that have been constructed due to them tinkering with time, what happens? What damage is done to the Ancient One without time? What does Loki do with space? How is Jane and Asgard without the reality stone ravaging her? (Rocket got it btw as Thor got caught up talking to his mother, which was a very sweet scene and really amplified her character for me to love her more than I already had). But at least Cap got the scepter until he is met with his past Cap, leading to my most favorite fight scene in the MCU. Something about those two classic suits running at each other with the cacophony of the shields, and current Cap saying some choice expletives now and getting tired of the bullshit while past Cap still has all that giddy up and pure heart and “I can do this all day” attitude is an exceptional treat to be had. I love Cap’s development, as much as he has stayed the same, he has changed, grown more into his age even, getting weary with the world but never losing his positive outlook, just shifting his focus gradually. But to correct the tesseract blunder, Tony and Cap go back to 1970 to get the original tesseract from SHIELD in its infancy. Both Tony and Cap have a soft moment. Tony see’s his father who talks to him about his expecting wife (aka baby Tony) and Cap sees Peggy again in her youthful glory, panging our heartstrings. But in the end, the supplies are collected and they move on.

So after they get the stones, they construct the gauntlet out of Tony’s suit Iron man material and it is decided that Hulk must do the snap since gamma radiation is part of the stones and so is he. It is not a simple easy thing as he writhes in pain and burns under the pressure of power but does the snap anyway and successfully brings back half the world. This win is shortlived once Thanos bombards the compound and sends Nebula off to retrieve the stones. This is the start of the longest game of flag football/hot potato/rugby adjacent. Hawkeye has the gauntlet at first as everyone tries to pull themselves from the rubble (side note: seeing Rocket so distressed shook me. He is usually so cool and wily, getting out of so much bullshit that his helplessness when he couldn’t breathe almost sent me over).

So since they retrieved the stones, it’s not like they change their past, just create alternate realities. Once they return them, things go back to normal again. So Hulk uses the gauntlet to bring back the rest of the population again, we just don’t see them yet until later. Past Nebula gets killed by current Nebula after Gamora helps current Nebula out to stop Thanos because as we know from Infinity War, Gamora never wanted Thanos to find them all. Thor, Cap, and Tony all team up to spar with Thanos who was waiting patiently for the gauntlet to be brought to him. Much to my dismay, the fight is very even, no side truly overpowers the other. Thor really wants to put in work, but can’t quite get through until Cap does what I have been waiting for since Ultron: HE PICKS UP MJOLNIR! (which Thor took back from Asgard in his time travel). Wheew, I coulda passed out when I saw Cap wielding that thing like it’s his the star spangled banner itself, sending lightning down on Thanos, busting him upside his head and all! I was spent and feeling aftershocks until Thanos gets the upperhand again and bombards his shield with that weak ass helicopter blade sword thing. It breaks the shield up! Which is made of vibranium! THE STRONGEST METAL IN THE UNIVERSE! This how I know Russo’s were just grasping at straws; the only thing I can say is since Tony made him that one after the snap, he probably used bootleg vibranium because obviously nobody called Wakanda for input on a damn thing to make this mission happen which is a rant I can say on a completely separate post. Sure, take T’Challa and Shuri in the snap, it’s not like the whole country isn’t composed of melanated geniuses that could give y’all a lesson on quantum physics that would make your central nervous system dry out. No, don’t call Wakanda to make vibranium anything for y’all to help in the fight, it’s cool cuz y’all didn’t try and clean up anything after shit hit the fan! I wanted a 10 minute Wakanda clean up scene: I got DUST. The underutilization of such a great people while at the same time using them frivilously is a *blink blink* mindfuck. But I digress again!

Once Cap seems to be against the wall, he tightens his shield band around his arm and says slap me bitch. But before it continues, Sam gives him a quick “on your left” signaling the return of everyone, with first none other than our Wakandan royalty: T’Challa, Okoye, and Shuri. Dr. Strange’s portals open up as populations come to join the fight from Gaurdians and Asgard, Wakanda and other Marvel movies. The fight scene that begins I can’t wait to own at home becuase I know I have to pause and slow motion to capture everything. Someone said Howard the Duck is in the fight which I HAVE to see. Can you imagine getting your ass impaled by a cartoon space duck?

The game of keep the gauntlet from Thanos continues as Spiderman, T’Challa, and others all have a go at running the guantlet away from Thanos. This is a part that I kind of have to think to remember. I know that Antman and Wasp had to spark up the quantum realm van and I think the plan was to send the gauntlet into it, but I’m not sure. Eventually Tony is alerted by Strange that the one in 14 million chance at winning is upon them and Tony goes ham to get the gauntlet from Thanos, who nearly succeeds but Tony yeets them off the glove and onto his suit, proclaiming himself as Iron Man one last time before snapping the bad half of the population into obliteration. All the bad aliens and Thanos dust away, leaving the original population the watch them float away. However Tony’s sacrifice is his life as he dies after goodbyes from Peter, Pepper and Rhodey.

The funeral occurs with everyone there, even the kid from Iron Man 3. This is a really emotional scene, especially seeing Tony left a last message in case of his demise, ending it with telling Morgan “I Said What I Said” Stark that he loves her 3000. Once again, I almost got choked up there, but it just wouldn’t happen. One thing that took me out were Wakanda’s outfits at the funeral. All black everything, but the fit and the make of Okoye and Shuri’s dresses? With the gold accessories???? I can’t mourn when all that beauty is in my face!

And in the end, Cap goes back in time to send the stones back to where they belong but stays in the past to reunite with Peggy, finally bust her open and returns as an old man to give his shield to Falcon and that is it!

I almost got choked up just now thinking about that last scene but I still didn’t cry. A tear came down when the end credits showed the actors pictures and their signatures of the original Avengers though. There will never be a better Cap or Iron Man bruh, taking that to my grave.

I’ve been in this MCU life for just about the whole length of it; watching these amazing superhero action flicks for the fun of it before recognizing the structure of each film forming towards an ending so grand. “You see where you’re going? Now let’s focus on how you get there.” This is a statement that is about to be my mantra for life! This is a huge project for a studio to put together properly, having all of our superheroes in one place, sewn together with the journey of the infinity stones to take out the big purple meanie Thanos who is hellbent on controlling the universe the easy way (50% of all living creatures annihilated) or the hard way (100% gone, starting from scratch).

But Marvel has given me so much great entertainment to look forward to. Ever since I graduated high school, it’s been the May or November of each year, what’s Marvel putting out next? And it’s gonna be tough not expecting an Avengers film anymore, but I’ll be here for the new build up of superheroes, supporting Black Panther still of course as well. I will miss the Cap thirst, wardrobe really did their part in this one with the Black sweater, the grey Henley, the yeehaw outfit previously mentioned and EVERY CAP UNIFORM HE HAS WORN! I love this fucking fandom.

And now I just wonder where past Gamora went, because she came to the present and “present” Gamora died at Vormir so we have a Gamora alive now but she went MIA, or did she get snapped back when Tony snapped all the henchmen back? Thor at the end joins the GOTG or Asgardians of the Galaxy, so I can’t wait to see how they fair in I assume GOTG 3. How will Falcon do as the new Cap? What does Bucky do now?? He was the original ride or die for Cap until he became Winter Soldier, but Cap was very forgiving of him in all that. Yet, his closure seems open for anything, he got no special stuff in the end so maybe more for him? How is Spiderman and the whole teenage snap population going back to school when it is five years in the future but they are the same age? Where did Valkyrie keep her Pegasus this entire time? When Cap went back to Vormir, what was his reunion with Red Skull like? And what did Thanos do with the stones before they were destroyed? They said he used them again and that’s how they found him at the beginning but on what? Answer these questions for me please!

If you made it this far, I love ya 3000 and I owe you cheeseburgers (oh God TONY!!!)

#avenger #avengers spoilers #avengers endgame #endgame spoilers #marvel

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