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sundayswiththeilluminati · 3 years

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Gjallarhorn

“If there is beauty in destruction, why not also in its delivery?” --Feisel Crux

Type: Rocket Launcher

Slot: Kinetic | Energy | Heavy

Element: Arc | Solar | Void

Perk: Wolfpack Rounds - Rounds fired from this weapon split into tracking cluster missiles upon detonation.

Trait: Pack Hunter - Gain increased handling and reload speed when standing near allies. Firing this weapon also grants Wolfpack Rounds to nearby allies wielding non-Exotic Rocket Launchers.

Masterworked Trait: More Wolves - Increases magazine size. Final blows with Wolfpack Rounds spawn a faster, more powerful missile at the target's location.

Ornaments: GJNKR, Hraesveglur, Gjallarfoam

Origin & Description:

Give me a G!

Give me a J!

Give me a YELLHORN!

What's that spell?

PARTY TIME.

Talk to any D1 vet long enough and the name Gjallarhorn (pronounced like "gallon") - or "Gjally," or "G-horn" - will come up, often with a fond sigh. Gjallarhorn is one of the most cherished weapons in the Destiny franchise and Bungie announced its return in their 30th anniversary celebration with due pomp and circumstance. And who can blame the Destiny community for falling in love with a rocket launcher whose explosions are filled with smaller, angrier explosions? It doesn't hurt that Gjallarhorn was built to be an exquisite object. Its elegant chassis of ivory, gold, and polished wood gleams with sculpted ornamentation of wolves and wings. From the braided leather foregrip to the delicate reliefs of leaves and vines, no detail of Gjallarhorn is too small to be made beautiful. When fired its Wolfpack rounds explode on impact into a symphony of swarming cluster missiles that lift an entire arena's worth of enemies into the air with the sheer force of their detonation. There's a reason its Rise of Iron acquisition quest was named Beauty in Destruction.

Both in- and out-of-game designers intended Gjallarhorn to be a statement piece, a trophy, a weapon that marked out its bearer as a warrior of skill and achievement. Weapon designer Mark Van Haitsma, maker of so many fine Destiny exotics that I had to add extra words in here, famously added one sculpted wolf per day he worked on the Gjallarhorn; as a result it possesses the highest WPG - that's "wolves per gun"* - of any Destiny weapon. Art lead Tom Doyle described G-horn as "Hulk Hogan's belt in weaponized form," and Mark drew inspiration from the parade armor of knights and gladiators. In-universe Gjallarhorn was forged by Feizel Crux of the Crux/Lomar foundry, makers of fine rocket launchers. Crux used the armor of Guardians fallen at the Battle of Twilight Gap to build a weapon meant to be wielded by the survivors of said battle, a functional memorial to those who were lost. Its very existence celebrates the City's victory.

* Sixteen!

Gjallarhorn's long and storied history - which may rightly be termed "epic" as its namesake, the horn Heimdall will sound to call the gods to Ragnarok, appears in the Norse Edda - begins before the launch of Destiny itself. It was featured in August 2013 in one of Bungie's pre-game hype series of "Destiny Drawing Board" posts previewing game weapons that spoke to Destiny's worldbuilding and aesthetic, and a Titan wielded one in the game's live-action trailer. The weapon itself then launched with Destiny 1, but most players could be forgiven for thinking otherwise, because it was near-impossible to come by for most of Year 1. The very low drop rate of exotics combined with a long string of bad luck that had Xûr stock it the second week after launch and then NEVER AGAIN until just before Year 2 kept it out of most Guardians' vaults. When the Nine finally coughed up the goods, anyone interested in high-level content swarmed to buy it since it had by then become de facto necessary for raiding. New players were effectively locked out of endgame activities till they could get one. LFG raids would include the line "Ghorn reqd" and kick players who didn't bring it for boss damage phases, and it dominated the DPS meta much as Whisper did in 2018. Many raid encounters simply weren't interesting anymore - stack 6 Gjallarhorns and nothing could stand against you.

So when Bungie announced that Gjallarhorn was finally returning in D2 as part of the 30th Anniversary event in 2021, many vets turned to wondering what tuning they must have done to keep G-horn from gating off raids to new players. Since Gjallarhorn was specifically part of the 30th Anniversary pack, a paid DLC, the situation could be even worse this time - new players would have to shell out for this specific piece of content. We needn't have worried. Bungie dodged the problem in an elegant way: D2 Gjallarhorn retains the famous Wolfpack Rounds but adds the brilliant trait Pack Hunter*, which turns the Gjallarhorn problem neatly on its head. When one player fires Gjallarhorn, Pack Hunter causes nearby allies carrying non-Exotic rocket launchers to also get Wolfpack Rounds. That one trait changes Gjallarhorn from a barrier to entry for high-level content into one of the best choices for teaching new Guardians to raid, since it's relatively easy for even a new player to acquire a solid Legendary-tier rocket launcher. One experienced Guardian firing a Gjallarhorn in the middle of a pack of new players lets everyone then fire off their own rocket launchers with the same high-damage cluster missiles. Instead of stacking three or six Gjallarhorns for damage it actually becomes more useful in combos, adding Wolfpack Rounds to rocket launchers with other useful perks like Vorpal Weapon or Chain Reaction.

* Whose icon is literally Three Wolf Moon.

Part of the reason Gjallarhorn isn't causing problems anymore might be because they Nerfed it straight out of the box: they're building a Nerf Gjallarhorn. No, seriously. It's amazing. The Nerf blaster is a full-scale G-horn replica more than four feet long, with all the detailing of the original recast in molded plastic, and somehow it has Wolfpack Rounds. Nerf actually developed a new kind of Nerf ammo, the Mega shell, just for their version of Gjallarhorn; you fire the shell and the shell then fires three more darts. Yeah. There was actual innovation put into this piece. It even reloads the same way as the in-game weapon. It's stunning and hilarious and I can't wait to spend way too much money on it.

For your in-game dress-up needs, since Gjally returned as part of Bungie's 30th Anniversary celebration, it came with the ornament GJNKR to make it look like OG Halo's SPNKR rocket launcher. Xûr also brought along the ornament Hraesveglur which changes the wolves to eagles and redoes the detailing appropriately, adding eagle talons grasping the front of the barrel and curling winds replacing leaves and vines. It's almost an aeronautical look, resembling early bare-metal aircraft like the famous DC-3 in both color and aesthetic.

The masterwork trait More Wolves adds, well, more metaphorical wolves (because Three Wolf Moon can only be improved by More Wolves) by putting two rounds in the tube (two rounds!!) and oh yeah even more explosions because now the explosions created by the first explosion can also generate their own, third, explosion. Explosions filled with explosions filled with explosions! The Destiny playerbase tends to get grouchy, especially when anything changes, and it's been asking for Gjallarhorn back pretty much since D2 launched. Now that I've played with it, I get it. It's a marvelous weapon. Some people say that when you dress well, you feel good; for a Guardian, when you bring a stylish weapon, you feel on top of the world. I worked overtime grinding vendor rank to get to the Hraesveglur ornament purely for the look. When you fire Gjallarhorn, you feel like you're making a statement, and anyone nearby had better listen up. And for once even the crotchety old players seem happy with this particular addition: Gjallarhorn's back, it's not causing problems in the meta, and it's just as big, shiny, and wolf-y as before.

Destiny 2 Compendium Armarum Exoticarum

#Destiny 2 #Gjallarhorn #G-horn's baaaaack!#the YELLHORN #Bungie 30th Anniversary #GJNKR #Hraesveglur #is how they spelled it for some reason #explosions in explosions in explosions #it's explosions all the way down #I can't believe the icon is goddamn Three Wolf Moon #what a beautiful weapon #this one in particular look at this one #Destiny Compendium Exoticarum #Destiny #this is the wager of existence

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kaz11283 · 3 years

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Fire and Ice: Chapter 4

Chapter Summary: you get to meet mor of the team members and you get adjusted to your new life in the tower. Loki is still giving you the cold shoulder.

Loki Masterlist

~~~~

Thor showed you the rest of the tower before leading you down to the living room where the rest of the team was.

"Lady y/n, this is the living space. Most of the time this is were everyone is together. Meet the avengers." You gave a slight wave to everyone that was there. You notices Nat and Clint sitting together toward the back of the room and smiled, Bucky and Sam were having some sort of disagreement while Steve just laughed shacking his head. When he notice you he stood walking over to greet you.

"You'll have to ignore those two. If theres something to disagree with they'll find it. Steve Rodgers ma'ma, pleasure to meet you." He stuck his hand out shacking yours.

"Nice to meet you too Steve. I've heard a few things about you. My roommate is a big fan." You smiled. Looking around you noticed Loki sitting by one of the windows staring straight at you, you felt your heart flip a few times before smiling at him. He rolled his eyes and went back to reading whatever he was reading. "See Thor, he absolutely hates me." You whisperer.

"Hes just trying to adjust." Thor placed his hamd on your lower back guiding you through yet another door. This one lead to a high tech lab where Tony and Bruce were at.

"If it isnt the man who completely uprooted me, brought me to a undisclosed location, and didnt take no for an answer. Its a pleasure to meet you Mr. Stark." You smiled sticking out your hand.

"Now in my defence I didnt bring you to an undisclosed location. I think everone knows where the tower is located. But after the compound is built no one is gonna be able to find us." He laughed taking your hand, you noticed him looking you over. "Your smaller than I would have imagined. Complete opposite from what I had compared you to. Not as .... Ummm... Pointy." He made a weird jester with his hands. You could only assume he was comparing you to Loki.

"Well as they say Mr. Stark, I do have horns holding up this halo." You laughed.

"I like her. Lets just get rid of reindeer games and keep her." He said pointing a screwdriver at you smiling. "Oh, heres this, state of the art Stark Macbook and Stark Phone. Online classes start for you Monday, you have all your normal classes. They will just be broadcasted to you on here, yes you can go back and rewatch them but you do still need to be there for the live feed also. If you need the book heres a card, use that for you. No limit." He handed you a black Mastercard.

"I truly appreciate it, really, but I cant take this." You tried handing it back.

"You can, you will. Everyone in the tower has one, no limits. Well Nat and Pepper have limits, I swear between those two i would be broke in no time. Anyways, not the point, you'll also need training gear. Use it for that if nothing else."

"Thank you Mr. Stark. Really for everything." You said grabbing the dtuff he had given you an slipping the card into your back pocket.

"Stop calling me that, Mr. Stark was my father. Tony will be fine." He said getting back to what he was working on.

"I call him Man of Iron." Thor said placing his hand on your lower back leading you out.

"Dont, for gods sakes, dont call me that." Tony yelled after you.

"Everyone is meeting in the living room for a movie of you would like to join us." Thor asked. You were completly drained from your firdt day at the tower, had it really just been this morning since you were in your own room? It felt like eons ago.

"No Thor, I just want to go take a shower, adjust to everything going on, and unpack my stuff. Maybe look for somethings to decorate my room, but thank you." You turned walking back to your room in silence.

On your way to your room your mind was all over the place, how did you not know that you were from Asguard, had your parents not really been there your whole life? Did your parents even actually exist or was it some made up something or other like a dream? You had just talked to your mom yesterday, maybebit was just some mind control thing making you beleive you had been talking to her. You placed your hand on the bridge of your nose rubbing it as you leanes aginst a wall trying to collect your thoughts.

"You seen very troubled." His voice ws like silk, you had only heard it once before but you knew when you looked up you would see him standing there in his usual green and black. You knew this man didnt like you but something inside of you drew you to him. When you looked up he was leaning aginst the wall directly in front of you, looking like he was trying to figure out an answer to a ridiculously hard question.

"I just want to know why this is happening? Are my parents even real? Do I have powers? What are they if i do. I just want to know. Why do you hate me?" You sighed leaning your head back aginst the cool wall. You heard his breath catch, before you knew it he was directly in front of you, hands on either side trapping you there. Your heart lept, not from the danger that you were in, but the closeness.

"I do not hate you, I could never hate you. You do not realize this but we were ment to be together, two parts of a whole. You can not stand here and tell me you do not feel drawn to me as I am you. I have loved you from the day we first met so long ago, playing as kids in my mothers garden. It simply pains me that you do not remember us, what we had, our past. Darling trust my words when I say that if Odin wasnt dead I would surly kill him for taking you from me and making me beleive you dead for all these years." He leaned down breathing in your scent and gently leaving a kiss on our cheek before turning around and walking off leaving you even more confused and jittery than you were.

~~~~

Chapter 5

~~~~~

Tag list:

@kgirardin

@sophlubbwriting

@supbeeches

@high-functioning-lokipath

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jadienjaystoriesandart · 4 years

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Legit the recent Tales of the SMP gave me Clue Vibes that I just had to write this out. You're welcome. So I decided to take the characters, give them backgrounds and motives for murder. Same campy fun that the Clue Movie has.

Sir Billium Blade the Third: A man of many words that include mostly making fun of commoners and poor people. Having come into his wealth when the Nether Portal closed for a while, his family used the gold they had to become rich rather quickly. He travels in his spare time, never staying in one place for a while. He's made enough enemies on his travels and possibly enough to kill to get rid of another.

His houses are filled with many objects he comes across in his travels, many of which some people love to get their hands on. Many that should belong in museums but sit ideal as objects of his wealth. it is also stated that there might be proof that he has ultra motives for his occasional get-together, covering up past murders in his home?

Traits include - Smart, Wealthy, and Charming. Cunning? Devious? and Silver-tongued?

Mister Boo (The Butler): This boy grew up only knowing servitude, his life was to the Blade Family. And still, yet he has to pay off his family's debt to the Blade Family for passage to this part of the world. Basically, an indentured servant. So long as he follows the rules, life isn't so hard, and Sir Billium rarely comes to this mansion. He's a man of few words if he is even allowed the speak. And has enough of a grudge to the Blade Family to kill for a taste of freedom. But, would he even have time to plan for murder with all the things that need to be done?

He knows this house like the back of his hand, all the passages, hidden rooms, and knows how to get from one end to the other without being seen. His main job is to make sure that the house is spotless and always ready for guests, along with serving Sir Billium.

Traits include - Quiet, Reserved, and Shy. Undetectable? Calculative? and Unforgiving?

Lord Sebastian Halo: To this man, fine wine is just one of many luxuries that only the rich can understand. Having gotten his wealth through means of deceit and trickery of those lesser than him, the Halo Family name is one that is both feared and praised. Having made the majority of the magical inventions still used to this day, Sebastian enjoys the high life of his family name through drinking and partying to his heart's content. However, he's also a man who knows all to well the people his family has stepped on to get where they are. And of the secrets that could kill to tear down his family's prestigious name.

The Halo Family is not a clean name, it's one bathed in the crushing of dreams and blood to get at its high standing. One being that Lord Halo, the founder of the family, made deals with darker beings to get the best deals. Also that he sacrificed people to this god for power as well. Proof of this is hard to come by, but it's very true. And one might also question the sanity of this family.

Traits include - Mysterious, Adventurous, and Witty. Ambitious? Delinquent? and Obsessive?

Oliver Arecaeshire Smichalist Cumbucket: Growing up in the land of Britain, a miserable island one might say if they don't live in it, Oliver has seen plenty going on in his small world. From wars, to family functions, and even betrayal. One might dare say he's well adverse in the arts of manipulation and conning. His family wealth comes from the Casino and the business *cough*Monopoly*Cough* they have on the gambling of people. He's lived long and seen many things come and go to have become jaded to life, but still eager to prove his families name to all, even if it is a silly name.

This family, though silly in name, has many secrets to hide. From bribes to the government to keep their hold on the gambling of people. To making sure alcohol was not outlawed so they could continue to drive up sales on the small island. Laugh if you will, but this family holds an iron grip on their area. Though not near as wealthy as the Blade Family, they are still high class. Oliver no doubt is aware of what might happen should his family's secrets get told. And it's has been thought he has killed once before.

Traits include - Discreet, Intrepid, and Eccentric. Liar? Paranoid? and Manipulative?

Lady Lyaria Chu: A beautiful and seductive women in her own prime, and heiress to the Chu name that hails from the west. She is well aware of her statue and well aware of how many suitors would fall at her feet for a taste of such wealth. It might seem odd that she has married three times and each of her husbands have mysteriously vanished. And that each of her husbands leaves everything of their name to her. Having no children, and being only in her late 20's Lady Lyaria has much to look forward to her in her youth and beyond. Her family name goes far back in the western area, having started as simple tailors that now make dresses for the wealthy everywhere.

Lady Lyaria had met Sir Billium when he visited her family's area and got to know him very well. Finding her seductive methods worked little on the cold man. But indeed they struck a chord with each other in their shrewd way of thinking about how the lower class is. It's a wonder to many about her ever-increasing wealth and expansion of her company could be due to the fact she murders her own husbands. But if word of that ever got out, she might have to silence a few people herself.

Traits include - Beautiful, Seductive, and Flirtatious. Ruthless? Greedy? and Narcissist?

James Napity: Coming from a lower wealthy family who only know of the Blade Family due to contracts with them through the Assassins Guild. James fought tooth and nail to make sure he and his family were safe from harm that could come to them. But in the end, it truly was all for not. Peasants revolted, and though James's family had done nothing to these wretched commoners they still sought to burn down his house. His family died as a result, and his wife blamed him for the fire, leaving him. His bitters grew to the lower class after that, the only kind-hearted man grew cold and hateful.

Before this though, he had met Billium as a childhood friend, though they rarely, if ever, got along. James found the other to be rather mean spirited and violent for his taste, but now he can see why. Though his family only has connections to the Assassins Guild as their dirty little secret, they haven't really used this since the time his great great great grandfather was head of the family. Since then, they sought better ways to grow their wealth and look where that got them.

Traits include - Calming, Perspective, and Philosophical. Wrathful? Jealous? and Cold-hearted?

Sir Karl Jacobs: What a strange man, no? His name hasn't ever been heard, yet this streamer is said to be rather wealthy. Not much is known about him which makes him even more enticing to the guests. He seems to just be here at this party for fun and nothing more, getting to know each of the guests. But isn't that just the thing? A strange man shows up from nowhere and seems to suddenly start murders at a party? Who's to say he's not here just to gain wealth through their deaths?

Karl is just a happy go lucky man and portrays as such. But have no idea how even he ended up here and just hoping to understand why he's here. Karl sets about to solve this murder while knowing he's a suspect himself.

Traits include - Funny, Happy-go-lucky, and sweet. Strange? Sly? and Thoughtful?

(Did include Drew as he’s pretty straight forward, unless you guys can think of something.)

#tales of the smp #the masquerade #dream smp #technoblade #sapnap #karl jacobs #niachu #badboyhalo #ranboo #clue au #Tales of the SMP AU #Dream SMP AU

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anika-ann · 4 years

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WINSoD - Pt.5

If One Should Fall...

Type: series, soulmate AU series (part 1, part 2, part 3)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 3120

Summary: In which distribution of forces on the stones-retrieving mission changes. Because— reasons.The reason being a special visit someone pays you.

Warnings!: skip to post-Infinity War and the summary of it - you can imagine; deaths, violence....briefly tho, + language, mention of the inability to bear children, brief suicidal thoughts, kinda religious motives because SPN

A/N: Enormous time skip, because obviously CA:CW didn’t happen and the timeline is changed from canon already. Also, the title (What I’d Never Say or Do had I been in my right mind) is reeeeeally applicable in this one and somehow… it felt right to connect the chapters like this. Do not murder me…?

Part 4

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Forever was a funny word. A funny concept, perhaps. People always said they wished for some moments to last forever and what they meant was for them to last as long as possible, with no change in sight. Or they said that something unpleasant felt like it lasted forever, their souls craving an end of the misery, a fundamental change as the polar opposite to the first case.

You lived through both in the past years.

Sitting on your ass in a Wakandian palace, watching a battle unfold in front of you, an ensemble of great warriors fighting yet another army from space, that felt like forever, a never-ending nightmare and you only got to watch.

It set a pattern for you for several more years to come. To only watch.

You watched an alien creature steal the sceptre that the Avengers had decided to store in the palace and it did so while killing everything in its way. Princess Shuri had the great idea of hiding you and cuffing you so you wouldn’t stand in the creature’s path while she tried to stop it with the others. She ended up in shattered glass, only unconscious, as if thanks to a miracle.

You watched as… as she fell apart to ashes only minutes later; just like many, oh so many others.

Half of the population, they said.

Thanos, The Mad Titan, had wiped half of all living creatures.

The moment was carved into your brain forever. And the eternal time you waited for anyone to come back from the battle, to see Steve alive, because God, please, let him live – yes, that sure as hell felt like forever too.

Lives were lost. Bucky, Sam, Ryan, Wanda, Pietro, Peter, Shuri, T’Challa, Strange, Fury… the list went on and on. All of them, gone. Forever.

The world changed. Avengers ow officially didn’t exist and yet recruited new members all over the freakin’ space, which was the only way of finding out Tony Stark, who had disappeared on a spaceship, in fact, survived.

The missions of the greatest defenders of Earth changed as well. Some members took off to start a family, lucky enough to still have a partner to do so. Or to have the ability to pass their genes.

You couldn’t. Or maybe Steve couldn’t, it didn’t matter. You never pried after the source of your inability to have children; you two were one, a unity. You didn’t want to know so you could point fingers. You could tell Steve blamed himself, as well as he knew that your irregular period was definitely not helping. You made your peace. In fact, you admired Tony for finding the courage to create an environment for a child in this mad world; your lack of faith in being able to do the same had the opportunity rose ironically helped you to come to terms with the fact of your body was not functioning right.

In a way, it only drew you and Steve closer. You had valued each other before, yes, but now… you truly were like one. You backed him up in how he decided to honour Sam’s memory by starting a support group and he was the one to sense that in a search for reassurance, strangely materialistic, you craved an official bond with him, despite never saying a word.

You were Steve’s wife now – and you were each other’s rock, even during the poor attempt at defeating Thanos again.

Five years was a long time, a forever, one might say, but when Scott Lang, one of the people believed to been dusted, reappeared, forever and never became relative again.

Which led you to now; what was left of the Earth’s mightiest heroes was planning on retrieving the infinity stones.

Because they figured out how to time-travel.

Observing your reflection in the mirror, the circles under your eyes, you couldn’t but run your hand down your face and sigh.

You were still struggling with accepting the incredible fact of the possibility of coming back in time, yet you had to shush the hope inside you. Hope was a dangerous thing; certainly on such big scale as everything could being as it had been, hope that all the people who had lost their lives during the Snap could be resurrected.

As for a person who in fact had died once, it was easier for you to believe it was possible and you weren’t sure that it was a good thing. The fear of losing what you still had – read Steve, mainly – in the process, was paralyzing. It would mean your end, one you might deliver by yourself if it came to it, because you weren’t as strong as your husband. You wouldn’t make it through. Not after everything that happened.

You sighed again and tried to shake off the darkest thoughts.

When your eyes fell on the reflection again, a man stood behind your shoulder.

You spun on your heels and jerked away, your bottom bumping into the sink with a startled yelp escaping your lips.

In a fraction of second, several ways of defending yourself flashed through you mind; but the man was already three feet away; in a blink of an eye, before you could even move further.

Chest heaving with frantic breaths, hand over your heart, you stared at the intruder dressed in a three-piece suit and a red cravat. Of average height and maybe few pounds over healthy weight, smoothly shaven so his smirk could stand out, he looked… peculiar, especially given the fact he had found himself in the ladies’ room.

It shouldn’t have surprised you he spoke up with some kind of an accent on top of everything, but it did.

“Saving the world is exhausting, isn’t it?”

You stared at him, speechless. Your brain kicked into an overdrive, analysing how much of a threat he was, if he was like Pietro, too fast for Friday to catch him, or what was he-

“Who the-“

“I’m Crowley, darling. And you don’t need look so scared. If I wanted you dead, you’d be already lying here in a puddle of blood,” he reassured you like a sleazy businessman, all pretence at kindness.

You winced at the visual and narrowed your eyes.

“Alright, Crowley, what do you want? And what exactly are you?” you demanded, uncertain why you felt calm despite the man appearing out of thin air and speaking of you dying in the bloodiest way. Were you truly so numb these days?

He smiled, as if he was old friend. “I am a friend of Moose and Squirrel-“ What. “-or Sam and Dean, as you know them. I have no doubt they mentioned me. After all, my mother is assisting them more than she would like. You met her, incidentally.”

It didn’t take a genius to figure it out – you hadn’t met many people during your time with the Winchesters. This man… was probably a warlock. A witch. Rowena apparently had a son.

Well. Shit.

“Okay. So… you’re a witch or something. Means I shouldn’t trust you fully. Noted. Now what do you want?”

His face twisted in a theatrical insulted grimace, his palm laid on his chest as if you just shot him through the heart – which, by the way, would probably do nothing to him.

“First of all, I am here to help, so I don’t think you have other option than trusting me. Second of all, I am not a witch, I am the King of Hell, thank you very much-“

Somewhere in the back of your mind, Sam Winchester’s voice whispered something about the King of Hell having been Dean’s bestie for a while, which did not make you feel any better, only more confused.

“And thirdly… I’m here to tell you what you, my darling, need to do for this mission to be successful.”

You stared at him incredulously, his casual stance and animated speech bewildering, and had no clue what to make of it.

Yet, you let him speak. You let him give you the advice no one ever wanted to receive. Ever. But this sleazy man had told you about how he had saved the world before, side by side with the Winchesters and everything suddenly made sense.

Crowley, the King of Hell, answered the most burning question you had been asking yourself ever since coming back from the death, doing so more and more often these days.

Why.

Why were you given the second chance at life? Why you of all people? What was the purpose?

And now you knew.

Rowena was the greatest witch the supernatural world had ever created and she supposedly looked through all the possible futures she could. Tony had once told you, drunk and hurting, that Strange had done the same right before the battle and he only saw one way of how it could end with Thanos’ loss. Now Crowley told you the ‘one’ future was still in play, that everything was actually still on the way to the world’s victory.

The price of victory was high. History had taught you that.

But the price people paid for losing was higher.

And as much as you hated what you apparently had to do…

“Okay,” you rasped, guilt already gnawing at your chest, tears strolling down your face, fear eating you up from the inside, fear of unknown and yet known, instincts fighting the urge to do the right thing and finally actually help to the heroes you found yourself among while still useless.

You were only watching too long. Forever, one might say.

“Okay?” he echoed, clearly surprised by your antics.

You only nodded, wiping away your tears and forcing your breathing to calm and steady. There was no way you could go back to the base of operating in the living room like this. You needed to be a fucking grown-up. Grown-ups had to be okay with not being okay. You must finally become worthy of being Captain Amer- Steve’s wife.

“Yes, Crowley. I’ll do it. Though I still have no idea why you came here to tell me. Aren’t you supposed to be the bad guy?” you teased him lightly, your mouth speaking its will without permission, the question only half-expecting an answer.

“Well, my darling. It’s the end of the world as we know it. It doesn’t matter now if you’re good or bad. Not if you want the world not to end.”

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

You were a terrible actress; a Razzies-nominee kind of actress. You couldn’t lie to save your life (the irony of such statement was not lost on you, yet it wasn’t properly appreciated either) and you were aware of the fact that Steve liked that about you. You could never lie to him. So you never tried.

You knew you couldn’t break that streak now, because he would see right through you. So you stooped lower than ever. Omitting the truth. Lying by not sharing the whole story. Whether you could make that work, only time would tell.

When you finally managed to compose yourself – at least more or less – and exited the bathroom, you found out that not much had changed. The team was still debating the details of best approach, uncertain but determined expressions on their faces.

Steve spared once glace at you and instantly was able to tell something was wrong. He hid you from the view of the others by his broad figure, concerned eyes scanning your face, observing and searching for any clue; for the source of your distress. As if the fact that they were – you all were, even if they didn’t know yet – about to time travel wasn’t enough to give one palpitations and serious stress-induced headache.

His tender fingers tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear as if it would help the mess your hairstyle must have been. A small encouraging smile graced his lips despite his own mind no doubt weighted down by numerous worries.

He didn’t have to ask for you to start talking, the brilliant colour of his eyes sweet and inviting enough.

“What if something goes wrong?” you questioned in a hushed whisper, not having to pretend to have such haunting thought. “What if… I don’t even want to think about what could it be. You’re going to need someone capable to pull you out. I am… I am not that capable. Definitely not when it comes to science of time-travel.”

Despite Steve acting like a human shield, your concerns were acknowledged by everyone, their heads snapping your direction. Steve, feeling all the curious eyes, cleared his throat and gently took your arm, leading you away from the prying ears.

“….excuse us for a second,” he hummed absently, waiting until he was out of earshot to speak with you again. “Doll… what- what is this really about?”

“What do you mean-“ you bluffed lamely in an instant, but the look Steve gave you shut you up.

“I know you, sweetheart. You can’t lie to me.”

If you weren’t dreading what you were about to do, you might throw a ‘watch me’ back at him. Instead, you aimed for an irritated tone – one that would be justified in case he would truly be questioning the claim you were about to point out.

“So you think I’m not afraid for you?”

A frown crossed over his face, his palm on your bicep tightening before he eased his hold to brush his thumb over the very same spot. “No! That’s not- I just know there’s something more. What is it?”

Gulping and averting his gaze, because the intense burn of genuine concern was unbearable, your mind raced with the effort to find the right words.

Your stomach was tied in tight knots, turning at the idea of playing Steve, more so for such nefarious purpose. But how else you could have convinced him that it couldn’t in fact be him and Natasha going to Vormir to retrieve the soul stone?

“I… I want to help. I need to help, Steve. You’re— you're so strong, always the hero and I’m not even close, I-“

“-need to prove my worth?” he finished easily, a knowing look in his eyes, and fuck him, how did he know—

He might not understand fully, he had no way of knowing what Crowley told you to do, but still, Steve was still able to recognize what fuelled your determination, what were your motives.

You opened your mouth uselessly, a shaky exhale brushing Steve’s face as he lowered his head to you, his eyes wide and genuinely troubled. God, you couldn’t bare the intensity of his gaze.

“Christ, doll. Where’s this coming from? Don’t be rid-“ From the corner of your eye, you saw him lick his lips as he swiftly cut himself off before calling you ridiculous. His large warm palms framed your face, forcing you to lock your gaze with his, passionate words accented by the burning fire of his irises. “You don’t need to prove anything to anyone. Not to them, certainly not to me. You are my everything and you are the most amazing person I have ever met-“

You closed your eyes, a soft smile tugging at your lips despite your better judgement. You never doubted Steve’s feelings, yet he was always quick to reassure you, having the patience of a saint whenever he noticed a hint of insecurity.

“I know. I swear I know that, I know how you feel, but- let me do this. What if… what if you don’t come back? What if you don’t come back and I’d be just sitting here, knowing I could have done something, but I didn’t. You’re too familiar with that feeling, Steve. Please. Let me come with you,” you pleaded in a hushed voice, hating you reminded him of losing you, but knowing it might be effective. “You know you can protect me when it comes to it.”

Brows drawn together, Steve observed you, baffled and yet understanding at the same time, torn between the instinct to have you protected at the compound and the responsibility he felt towards this mission. This was the fight of your lives; deep down, he must have known he couldn’t afford to jeopardize that even if it came to you. Which, naturally, didn’t mean he had to like it.

A clearing of one’s throat that sounded a bit like a clap of thunder interrupted your staring contest and you both glanced towards Bruce’s huge green form in the doorway, sheepish expression comical on his massive face.

“…sorry to interrupt, but… we kinda all think she has a point so-“

Steve’s sucked in air between his teeth, letting his hands drop from you face, only for one of them to run through his hair, the other balling in a fist.

You shrugged, the battle of emotions – victory and defeat at the same time, because God, why – no doubt visible on your face as Steve turned his attention solely to you once more.

“I’ll give you guys another sec…” Bruce hummed, backing out of the door, leaving you to deal with clearly irritated and reluctant Steve.

Thanks, buddy.

Wordlessly, Steve’s fingers slipped beneath your jaw, pulling you in for one of the strangest kisses of your life. H poured all his emotions into one simple gesture, hungry and intense, intimate wet sound of a dirty encounter of mouths echoing in the otherwise silent room. You allowed yourself to get lost in the sensation of Steve’s lips on yours, in his arm grabbing you and pressing flush against his hard chest; it was all too harsh for anyone to believe it was not a display of affection of a half-desperate man.

Breathless and with vertigo nearly overcoming you, you rested your forehead against Steve’s, mirroring his action once you parted. His eyes were closed shut, as if too heavy to kept open, but you could see that something in his expression shifted; you and Bruce won.

Peripherally, you noticed Crowley’s faint figure, the shortest of appearances as he nodded in approval and goodbye. You suspected he did something so Steve gave in; you didn’t care what and how, hoping it didn’t harm your soulmate.

Tears stung in your eyes when you realized what was to come and you forced them to be kept at bay, shutting your eyes close again.

“Fine, have it your way,” Steve rasped, his voice clearly irked, yet resigned. “But if you get one scratch on you, doll, just one, I’ll hold you responsible.”

No, you won’t.

You charmed a guilty smile, a lame tiny thing, and he inhaled sharply, only for huffing the air out.

“How could I, having my chivalrous man by my side?”

It earned you a kiss on your forehead, Steve’s fingers interlacing with yours when you made your way back to the other room where everyone waited.

Oh, how much it now hurt, the amount of faith Steve could put into you, charmed by your teary smile, that little thing puling on his heartstrings.

Oh, just how much it would hurt…

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Part 6

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

This chapter might seem a bit strange, but hopefully it fits the atmosphere of Infinity War and Endgame…

Thanks for being here. I love you for your encouragement :-*

P.S. Here, have the last part of a SPN guide - visuals and references for Amara (God’s sister who gave back ‘reader’s’ memories) and Crowley (from this chapter).

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans Are Space Orcs “Preparations.”

I’m getting ready for an interesting new arc, I think, so we shall see. I never know what my brain is going to want to write.

“Lieutenant, command is yours. Keep the ship operational till I get back. I want low orbit just in case we have to bail out quickly.”

“Yes sir.”

Boots clattered on metal as Commander Vir clattered down the stairs and moved quickly down the hallway. A small entourage of figures walked at his back, “I’m not sure I like this commander.” One of them was saying, “It could more than easily be a trap.”

He sighed, “I know, but the GA wants it done.”

“I would much rather do reconnaissance for a while-”

“And so would I, but the chairwoman made it very clear that we needed to speak with them as soon as possible. I’ve already tried establishing radio contact, and nothing. The only way to go now is the old fashioned way.”

They took a sharp corner, “Tell the council to meet me down in the docking bay.”

“Yes sir,” They scampered off leaving another subordinate to fill their place.

Most of the council was already there when he reached the docking bay. Dr, Krill, Sunny, Dr. Adric, Ramirez Narobi etc. etc.” He paused before them, hands clasped behind his back.

“You shouldn’t go alone.” Came the first announcement.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, which means I want at least six marines, and a group from the diplomacy team. I know I’ve been taking lessons, but I don’t trust myself nearly as much as I trust them.”

“Are we sure it needs to be you at all?” Krill pointed out getting to the heart of the issue on first try, as was usual for him.

Commander Vir turned to look at the little doctor on the spot, “The Kree have demanded a high ranking representative.”

“Then lie to them, send down someone not important and pretend,” Krill said

He crossed his arms, “We aren’t going to lie. Starting out diplomatic relations with a lie would destabilize the entire foundation of what we are trying to build, no we need proper protection is all.” He turned to look at the others, “Any objections? If so raise your concerns now?’”

Sunny raised a hand, “You're Not going unless you bring proper weapons, otherwise, I say we shouldn't meet them.”

“I agree….. And I have an idea.” The group looked nervously around at each other, “No, you are very much not going to like it, and you will probably argue with me.” He turned to Dr. Adric, and motioned hi to follow, “Ramirez get your marines and-”

“Already done commander.”

“Nice and fast of you.” He turned to look at Ramirez one last time placing a hand on his shoulder, “Are these the marines that have…. Uh…. trained with the new equipment?”

Ramirez nodded enthusiastically, “Yes sir.”

“Good.” “New equipment?” Krill wondered rather suspiciously.

“Yep you're going to hate that too.” Commander Vir announced knowing that he was going to argue and knowing that people would assume his decision was poor. But he had talked it over -- seriously -- with Ramirez, and they had both agreed it was too good a strategic advantage not to. Ramirez had then talked with the requisitions officer and so on and so forth until the package had been loaded onto the ship not a few days before, but that he thought he might be able to get away with, it was this next thing, they were going to hate.

Floating at the back of the group Conn knew what he was thinking, “They’re going to lock you up.”

“Are you exaggerating, or is that seriously what they are going to do?”

The starborn kept silent leaving hi on edge as he moved forward and into the equipment room. He knew where it was, they had hardly hidden it as well as they thought they had, and he could tell by the nervous movement of the rest of the crew that they knew too.

Ight as well not keep them waiting.

He walked over to one side of the room, pushed a rack of guns out of the way, reached down and dragged the large silver box onto the open floor.

Immediate uproar.

“No!”

“Not on your life!: “What are you thinking!”

Commander Vir crossed his arms, planting himself before the box with feet spread wide. He let them continue to rant, sunny even tried to pull hi away, but he ducked past both of her arms and stepped back, so he was now standing on the box.

“QUIET ALL OF YOU!”

That made them shut up, at least for the moment.

“Commander, we won’t let you.”

“I know.”

“Than why even bother bringing it up.” Sunny demanded

Even Ramirez was looking a little put off..

He turned to look at Dr. Adric, “That is why he is here. I know for a fact that I can do it, and not cause harm to myself. I’m healthy enough mentally to manage, but if the good doctor decides that I am wrong, than I will put it down and stp arguing.”

Below him, the Iron eye logo glinted in the yellowed overhead lights.

Dr. Adric looked on in concern, “What is this about?”

Krill and a few of the others turned to protest, but commander Vir stopped them with a raised hand turning to look at the doctor, “You are aware of my time in operation steel eye?”

He nodded.

“And were you aware that I put the armor back on for the burg war not some months ago?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know about the project.”

He laced his hands together before him, “I published a paper on it. I know that it was a volatile experimental pice of technology that the government attached directly into the spinal columns and muscles of the forty surviving soldiers. Each machine was powered by the steel eye prosthetic which contained the suit’s power source. I know that they used drugs to stop the excruciating pain, and that they added amphetamines to cause aggression and allow the soldiers to stay up longer…. And I know that more than three fourths of those soldiers are dead now and only have of that fourth is….. Operating functionally as people.”

Commander Vir smiled, “Yes, than you do know. IT took me years to recover from the suit, than I went and put it on again, and that caused a relapse in y mental health to a degree that I almost got myself grounded and , likely, discharged. However, during that time I also spoke to a group of people who were working on a similar project, operation Iron eye.” There was a nervous shifting around the room, “ITs the same thing as stell eye, though it requires no drugs, and no pain. The Trade off is, I had to go in for surgery because the attachments are permanent.”

He turned around and pulled down the collar of his shirt so Dr. Adric could see the first port just below the base of his skull, “I had these done at a time where I honestly shouldn't have, but I thought this was my only option.” He turned back around, “I am well aware that is not true, but what’s done is done. I have the implants, they cannot be removed, and I have the suit. I might as well use it to protect myself. That is the point? To protect myself and the rest of the crew?”

There was silence for a moment.

“We can’t let you do this.” Dr Katie was saying.

Narobi was shaking her head emphatically .

He turned to look at Dr. Adric, “I leave this decision up to you doc. If I’m not mentally healthy enough to handle it, than I will stop, but you are the expert here and the most unbiased among us.” Dr Adric shifted on the spot nervously. He could see where this was a problem. The unhealthy associations that soldiers were bound to make after an experience like that was…. Horrible to imagine, but the Commander seemed calm, so he supposed there was no issue with trying.

He was a bit nervous about all the eyes that his decision caused. Sunny looked like she was about to beat him to death with her spear, and Dr. Krill seemed intent on poisoning his drink the next time he had the chance.

They took the Iron eye box back to the medical bay, and The three doctors observed the process.

Commander Vir was feeling pretty good as he slid back into the box listening to the connections click into place. Were there some bad memories? Yeah, sure, but he could handle those well enough.

Dr Adric kept a close eye on him as he stood the whirring of hydraulics accompanying his movement. He flexed his fist inside the iron eye suit and turned to look at the others.

Krill was frowning. Sunny was glowering , Dr. Katie wouldn't even look at him. Ramirez looked very, very nervous.

Dr. Adric walked over and checked his pulse, asked a few questions, but finally decided there was no reason to tell him no.

That pissed off almost everyone else in the room, but commander Vir pulled on the specially made iron eye gear, “You wanted me safe, and this is as safe as I can think of being, and I trust Dr. Adric’s judgement.” With each footstep, metal clattered against metal, and the soft hiss of the hydraulics accompanied him up the hall.

THe others followed in concern and anger.

The crew turned to look their eyes wide looking nervous.

They expected him to do something stupid.

What they didn’t know is that he actually had a practicing mental health professional on his side now, and truth be told, he didn’t feel anything really. Yes he could just as easily compare the experience to the steel-eye suit, but without the pain, the experiences were too different.

Reaching the docking bay for the second time. The marines were already waiting as were the diplomacy team.

Dr Krill cursed, “You arent serious.”

“Krill, I appreciate your opinion as a doctor, but in areas of equipping marines, I trust Ramirez more.”

The line of marines saluted as he drew nearer, their bodies covered by their combat ACUs, and each one wearing a matte black painted jetpack.

He turned, just in time for Ramirez to step forward with another, mounting it to the back plate on the Iron- eye suit, where it clicked satisfyingly into place.

Krill and Sunny both looked as if they were about to have a conniption.

He withdrew something from his pocket, “Don’t worry, I did my homework, and read the manual. I don’t plan on even using it if this all goes well.” he looked at the group of them seriously, “This isn’t for fun, everyone, this is for the safety and protection of myself and others. I have a panic button ready in case anything goes wrong, and I will have two more teams of marines on standby in low orbit in case something decides to happen. I have the diplomacy team to speak when I don’t know what to do, and I have the marines for a firefight if it comes to that. THe first sign of trouble and we fly out if we have to.”

He stepped forward a bit, looking around at the concerned and angry faces, “I understand you all are worried, but I have thought this through. I have taken your suggestions, and I am doing everything I can to stay safe.” He looked up at Sunny, “I will be equipped in the way that you suggested.” he turned to Krill and Katie, “We have the medical supplies that you ordered in the bags that were placed in the ready room.”

He turned to Narobi, “You sent in one of your best people to service all of the equipment days ago. I, and these men are as safe as we can be.”

Maybe one day he wouldn't have to explain his actions to these people, but he understood that, in the past he had made a bunch of poor decisions. This time would not be that time. He had thought of everything, and he had talked to everyone else to consider things he hadn’t thought of. He was listening to his crew, and differing to the knowledge of experts. He didn’t pick the team, he didn’t pick the equipment, and he was going to allow the knowledge of others to carry through this time.

Yes, one day he would be able to make a decision without explaining everything, but today was not that day.

He looked around, “Are there any objections?” He held up a hand to cut Krill off, “On the basis of logic and not being angry at me?”

Krill shut his mouth.

One of the floor technicians jogged up, “The shuttle is ready commander.”

He nodded and turned to the marines, “Load up!” He then turned and ordered a second pilot onto the ship so as not to leave it unmanned when they were gone.

In the confusion, he turned to head towards the ship, but something caught his hand.

He turned and looked up to find Sunny’s golden eyes staring down at him. He could tell she was mad, displeased, and even a little hurt, though she didn’t say any of that.

The one day he thought he had made no mistakes…. And he had.

He looked around quickly, and seeing no one paying attention, he took one of her other hands.

The Iron eye armor impeded a good connection but it would have to do, “I’ll talk to you when I get back.”

SHe remained quiet.

“I know…. I should have told you, and you can kick my ass later, ok?”

His smile fell from his face as she continued to glower.

He squeezed her hands, “Back before you can say Adam is a dipshit.” He squeezed one more time and let go turning towards the shuttle and flexing his shoulders with a hydraulic hiss , the iron eye clattering hungrily with every movement

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suitofvibraniumarmor · 4 years

Text

Headstrong

Part Three

Summary: After moving past the locker room incident, Bucky and Haven continue on with training for an upcoming fight. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC Word Count: 1895 Warnings: Angst; discussion of cancer, amputation, infidelity, drunk driving, car accident and related injuries. A/N: Taglist is open, you can be added to the one for this fic or Buckvember simply by sending an ask. Happy Reading!

Series Masterlist

Right after dinner, Haven put on a touch of makeup, smoothed out her shorts and t-shirt, and slipped into a pair of sneakers before telling Wes she was going out for a little bit.

When she entered the bar, she looked around for Bucky; he raised his right arm to get her attention at a booth toward the back of the place. She waved an acknowledgement, stopping at the counter to order a drink for herself before she joined him.

“Thanks for meeting me,” she started, sliding into the booth. “After this morning … honestly, I wanted to forget everything about it, but Wes said it’s probably best not to ignore it and let tension build up.”

Bucky nodded. “Sure, I can understand that. I hope you know, Haven, it was truly an honest mistake. I wasn’t paying attention, I’ve never been there before. It won’t happen again.”

“Thank you,” she replied, smiling softly. “I know it was a mistake — I was never worried about that. I wasn’t exactly gracious in my reaction, but you caught me off guard. I apologize for that.”

“No apology necessary.”

Her drink arrived. She thanked the waitress and took a few sips before continuing. “And I want to apologize for the way I declined your lunch invitation. We’re going to be working together closely and often, but I thought if I kept things more professional than I did with my last coach … it’s a self-preservation thing, I guess. I let things go too far with him, let it become personal. Too personal, and it almost cost me my career.”

Bucky assured her that he could understand. “Boxing was the most important thing to me, and it was taken away. Turns out, it takes two flesh arms to stay in the ring. I got lost for a while, hid away — I’m sure you heard about that. I’m pushing myself, taking this job and getting back into the business in any form. What I’m trying to say, Haven, is that we don’t have be best friends or anything, but, besides all the work together we’ll be doing, we’ve got some things in common. There’s going to be a personal note to our relationship, but even that doesn’t have to cross professional lines.”

“Thank you,” Haven told him quietly. The tension in her shoulders released and she continued to sip at her drink. She wanted to tell him more, but the words wouldn’t come. Something she was doing was giving her away because a few seconds later, Bucky’s warm fingers covered hers.

“When you’re ready to talk about the rest of it, we can. There’s no rush.”

Haven pulled her hand out from under his. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

They finished off those drinks, and Haven paid the tab for both of them. They bid each other goodbye with a wave in the lot and went their separate ways.

For a couple of weeks, they kept things what Bucky called casually professional. They didn’t see each other outside of the gym again, he was extra careful about which locker room he went into at the end of each session, and he didn’t push her for any personal information. He didn't offer any, either.

Haven was getting stronger and more ready for a fight by the day. They hadn’t been training together long, but Bucky could see she was chomping at the bit to compete. Her punches were coming harder and faster when he called out combos, their sparring sessions were becoming more intense.

“There’s a fight in Los Angeles at the end of the month,” Bucky informed the siblings one afternoon after he and Haven had showered, and Wes was able to join them in the gym. “I think Haven can be ready by then. The other fighter on the card, Helen Cho, is also a newer pro and, from my research, I think she and Haven will be a good match.”

“You really think I’ll be ready?”

Bucky nodded with enthusiasm. “Without a doubt. Honestly, I’d put you in the ring against this girl today, if we had to. You’re a natural boxer and your lighter training while you recovered probably helped you to stay on track. What do you think?”

Haven looked at Wes, who nodded. “All right. I’m in.”

“Great,” Bucky smiled. “We’ll get you on the card and start training harder over the next couple of weeks. I want to be in Los Angeles a few days before the fight to do some training in their weather, get your body adapted to it.”

The next task was to contact the right people, find a flight and a hotel, and work out a temporary training schedule. They talked about nutrition, too; all of them wanted Haven in top fighting condition so her first pro fight could be a win.

While Bucky put the finishing touches on the training schedule, Haven and Wes quietly argued about something by the door. Wes finally won out after a few minutes, it seemed, and left the gym. Haven huffed, her hands tightening into fists at her sides. Bucky wouldn’t have been surprised if she stomped her foot for effect.

“Coach, do you have some time to talk before you leave,” Haven asked, blurting it out as a statement and not a question.

Bucky nodded and motioned for her to join him in the ring. They both sat on the edge of the ring, their legs hanging over. Haven leaned forward on the ropes. Bucky kicked his legs with his hands in his lap, patiently waiting for whatever it was she had to say. When two minutes passed and she hadn’t said anything, Bucky decided maybe it would be easier for her to open up to him if he opened up to her first.

“Right after I won my last title, I couldn’t shake the pain in my left arm,” Bucky began. “I did three more fights and it just got worse every time. Finally let my trainer convince me to get it checked out. Doc did x-rays and found a mass on my humerus.”

Haven frowned. “Cancer?”

“Cancer,” Bucky echoed. “It could have been removed and maybe beat with chemo, but I let it go on too long. I didn't want to hear that whatever was happening would end my career, but it did anyway. They had to take the arm, or it would have taken my life.”

“I’m so sorry, Buck.”

He smiled, both in gratitude for her empathy and because she hadn’t called him Coach. “The upside, I guess, is that being a prize fighter puts you in line for cutting-edge technology like this.” He flexed his prosthetic arm and a light whizzing came from inside the thing. “I can’t fight but I can function. And I’m alive.”

She sniffled, and Bucky could see that her eyes had glazed over. “Do you ever get angry that you can’t compete anymore?”

“Sometimes,” he confessed.

She leaned back on both arms. “I was so angry when I thought my career would be over. Punched a hole in the wall in my bedroom one day because I got so angry.” She looked up to the ceiling, so Bucky kept his eyes on his hands in his lap. “Brock Rumlow was my coach from the very beginning. I was training at this gym in town, straight out of high school, not even sure if I wanted to do this for real, and he was new to coaching. He told me I had potential, so my dad and Wes went all in. They built this gym, and the three of them got me into the amateur league. Brock was a good coach, until he wasn’t. A few years ago, we started dating. It was always there, somewhat, I guess, despite the age difference, but we decided to make a real go of it.”

Bucky pressed his lips into a thin line. He fought Brock Rumlow when they both were amateur fighters and knew about Brock’s reputation, but this wasn’t the time to comment on that — especially when he didn't know how much Haven was aware of.

“Besides coaching me, Brock had a management agency that he owned. It went under, and Brock lost his mind. He was drinking all the time, sleeping around. I was so concentrated on getting my pro bid, I ignored all of it.

“We were coming home from a party one night though, and Brock had been drinking. We were arguing about the cheating — I’d had enough, I guess, and I wasn’t exactly sober. The argument really escalated and Brock lost control of the car.” She drew in a deep breath, staring ahead as though the images were playing in front of her. “The car rolled a few times, crashed against a light pole. How we managed to keep that out of the news, I’ll never know.”

Bucky scooted closer, covering one of her hands with his metal hand; she didn’t even wince or pull away. “How extensive were your injuries?”

“Ironically, I broke my left arm right about where you said your cancer was at. I’ve got a rod and a plate supporting it now. Bruised kidney, shattered spleen.”

“You’re lucky that’s all you made it out with.”

Haven paused, then nodded. “Yeah. I am. Anyway, after that, I told myself that I would keep boxing and my personal life separate. I wouldn’t ever again make the mistake that I made with Rum with anyone else.” She turned to look at him. “This fight, this championship you think I have a shot at — all of that means the world to me. I want to come back strong. I don’t want to be the girl who almost lost her shot because she dated her coach and it came back to bite her in the ass.”

“Hey,” Bucky said, shaking a finger at her, “as your coach, it’s my job not to let anyone bite you in the ass.”

She laughed, and Bucky found that he quite liked the sound. “Well, thanks, I appreciate it. I mean, I think I’ve got a pretty nice ass and bite marks would just ruin the image.”

“I’ve seen it,” Bucky reminded her, “and — not to overstep — but bite marks or not, Haven, you do, in fact, have a nice ass.”

That made her laugh even harder and painted her cheeks with a blush he hadn’t seen since the day of his interview. She swatted at him playfully, but Bucky dodged out of the way, slipping out of the ring with Haven not far behind him.

He waited with her while she shut down the lights in the gym and locked up the building. She walked with him to the front of the house where he was parked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Starting to get chilly at night,” Bucky commented.

“Yeah, it is.”

Bucky fished his keys from his pocket, wanting for some reason to linger in their goodbye. “Running tomorrow morning?”

Haven gave him a thumb’s up. “Bright and early.”

“I’ll see you then. G’night, Haven.”

“Night, Bucky.”

She had skipped the ‘Coach’ bit again; Bucky wondered if she even realized she had done that. He got into his car and pulled out of the driveway, waving goodbye one more time to Haven before turning his eyes to the road.

Headstrong: @disastersoldierbucky @ashleymalfoy @amanda-teaches @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @tanelle83 @tellmewhatyouwill @capandbuckylvr @pinknerdpanda @ntlmundy @siggy85 @itsallyscorner @m-blasterrr @just-the-hiddles

Buckvember: @peace-love-hobbitness @disastersoldierbucky @connie326 @rebekahdawkins @wonder-cole @shynara51

#marvel #fanfiction #bucky #bucky barnes #buckvember #bucky x ofc #bucky barnes x ofc #buckvember queue

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epochxp · 4 years

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How Ed Smith Rose Above Prejudice and Became a Black Video Game Pioneer

Though not many gamers today remember him, Ed Smith was one of the great pioneers of the video game industry during its infancy. During a time when African Americans were rare to the game industry, Smith helped to advance it forward in significant ways.

Born in Brooklyn in 1954, Smith grew up in an impoverished neighborhood, which his parents moved into from Mississippi only a few years prior. Though his family had left behind their old home during the period known as the Great Migration, things weren’t much more promising in New York. Racism was still widespread in the area, and Smith’s family resided in a very high crime area.

At a very young age, Smith was told by his father not to expect much from his life and to have low aspirations. Despite this, Smith was a very ambitious and curious individual. He became engrossed with learning how devices functioned, taking apart and repairing basic electronics like irons and toasters. He later moved on to more advanced devices like TV sets and radios, becoming a handyman around the neighborhood. Smith’s friends were equally skeptical of his passion for electronics, telling him that “a black guy can’t do this sort of thing” and that they would “laugh you out of the room.” But for Smith, these words of discouragement only served as a challenge, with him set to prove them wrong.

Starting in the Electronics Industry

At the age of 18, Smith unexpectedly found himself becoming a father. With a family to provide for, he began working various electrical odd-ball jobs to make a living. He later moved to Coney Island in 1972, working for Marbelite, one of the country’s most prominent manufacturers of traffic signals. The job was Smith’s first real introduction into the digital electronics industry, which would only become larger through the ’70s and ’80s. While working at Marbelite, Smith attended school on microprocessor-based circuit design, a technology that would pave the way for the future of consumer electronics. He then learned to program the brand-new Fairchild F8 microprocessor, which was also used to make the Fairchild Channel F in 1976.

After working for Marbelite for a few years, Smith landed a job interview working for APF Electronics, located in downtown Manhattan. Unsurprisingly, Smith landed the job due to his high level of knowledge. According to Marty Lipper of APF Electronics, Smith’s race never factored into the hiring process. He recalled that “the man was an engineer, and he knew his business.” Hiring a black man in the mid-1970s in the tech industry was incredibly uncommon, but APF Electronics was known to be highly diverse, with a company made up of workers from various different racial backgrounds. Smith was more than qualified for the job, and as a result, became the second known black engineer (the first being Jerry Lawson) in the history of video games.

The Creation of the MP1000 and Its Impact

Working at APF, Ed Smith took the lead in designing the prototype for the company’s video game console, which drew inspiration from both the Apple I and TRS-80. Its design was inspired by the Motorola 6800 processor and was developed over six months. While featuring one built-in game entitled Rocket Patrol, the console was also capable of playing games that were sold separately via removable cartridges, an entirely new feature at the time. Launched commercially in mid-1978, the MP1000 sold well at first but garnered mixed reviews and was outpaced by the Atari 2600.

After the fairly successful launch of the MP1000, APF used Smith’s same technology to develop The Imagination Machine, a personal computer system that featured an off-white finish, full-stroke keyboard, and a built-in cassette tape drive for data storage. The product sold itself as a revolutionary creative tool for music, art, language, education, and programming and was built using Smith’s same technology at its core. The system, too, became successful, leading to the company’s creation of The Dream Machine II. Unfortunately, the system’s second iteration proved to be far less financially successful and ultimately led to APF ceasing operations in 1981.

After APF

After the closure of APF, Ed Smith left the video game field, but his experience stuck with him for the rest of his career. “Had I the forethought to know the industry would become what it is today, I would have stayed the path,” Smith stated. After APF, Smith managed an Apple dealership in New York for four years. He then worked at a computer dealer in Albany and helped expand the computer chain entitled The Computer Factory to a location in Philadelphia.

Today, Smith continues working as a successful tech salesman but remembers his days working for APF quite fondly. Those involved with the gaming industry today should remember Ed Smith’s contribution to it and appreciate what a strong impact he truly made.

Smith elaborated on his time as a gaming pioneer in an autobiography titled Imagine That!: The story of Ed Smith, one of the first African Americans to work in the design of video games and personal computers.

(This article is credited to Ben Price. For as long as he can remember, Ben has always loved playing, discussing, and writing about video games. Since receiving his B.A. in English, he now writes about them for a living.)

#Video Game Development #Black History Month #gaming #history

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soyouareandrewdobson · 4 years

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Alex ze Pirate Mini Review 2: Underappreciated and how Sam should deal with an abuser.

Last time I gave a general overview of how Sam is treated by his “friends”. Now I want to give a more specific example, that will also show how Dobson’s storytelling abilities are not really all that good, particularly when it comes to pacing or building up any sort of conflict.

You see, for the most part Alex ze Pirate is just a collection of stupid artwork (not even concept art, just random artwork Dobson makes of his characters dressed as something random) and one page strips with a stupid punchline, with Sam most of the time being the receiving punching bag.

There have however been a few individual, short stories over time. And when I say short stories, I mean short. As in 15 pages for a very cheap set up, a few jokes and a punchline. Those include stories such as All that Glitters (where everyone except Alex breaks into a fortress to steal something), The Wish Fish (the only halfway okay story of them all because it is just meant to be comedic) and Best Laid Plans. However, near the end of the initial run of AzP, Dobson did a three part story (partly) focused on Sam in that format, which started off with the chapter I want to talk in this post: “Underappreciated”.

As you can see, the chapter starts off following some basic rules of storytelling in comics. Two establishing panels for the location at which the story takes place initially and showing what Sam’s duties are. Nothing really bad yet. The only thing that sticks out being just the fact that a) Sam does not have his own bedroom and has to sleep in a useless outlook and b) he sleeps in his regular clothes. But hey, nothing to get upset about initially, perhaps he just prefers it like this at the moment. But with the next two pages…

The problems start to show. Page three establishing that Atea herself is just a cunt who can’t even have the basic decency of wishing her “friend” a good morning or giving him a thank you for bringing a morning beverage as she has other selfish priorities on her mind. Like wanting to lick the shower water of Alex’s skin.

Also, go fuck yourself Uncle Peggy. As in, get both your arms ripped off, shoved up your butthole with those hooks and then get hanged on those stomps like a chandelier. I wouldn’t even mind the fact here that Peggy left a mess, if the face he makes in the last panel was not obvious of the fact he left the bathroom like this on purpose and that he is rather happy of making Sam’s day extra miserable by the fecal matter he left behind. Combined with any previous strip of the comic showing that Peggy for no reason likes to get the boy in trouble and even wants to see him die, this just shows once more of how much of an asshole he is. If the last panel just showed him with a groogy hangover look, obviously unaware of how much discomfort he brings unintentionally to Sam, that would be one thing. But intentionally making Sam’s day miserable despite the obvious fact the boy is the first one to do anything around here, while making one of the worst drawn “HAHA, I am such a rascal faces” I have ever seen (and I have seen shitty anime en mass) makes me hate the character more than Dobson intented.

And then there is page 5…

And it is in my opinion the saddest page in the entire comic arc, even compared to the “heartbreaking” stuff Dobson wants to pull up in the last third of it. Because though it is meant as a joke, the general execution is too cruel, crossing into “dude, not funny” territory and showing just how little the crew cares for Sam. Talus, Sam’s “best friend” not even aware he is around, everyone stealing Sam’s food with that stupid “Yoink” sound (seriously, I wish the characters would get punched in the vaginas each time they make this sound in any of Dobson’s strips) and then leaving Sam behind with smug faces, ready to do whatever they want to do, while he, likely stinking of feces and not even having showered properly, has also to clean up after those pigs, who can’t even eat in a proper manner ( hey Atea, use a fork instead of holding the bowl) and silently. I mean, they are pretty much pigs when the noises they make are loud enough, they make the font of the writing change randomly into whatever Dobson has on his computer with every sound. Not to forget the mess they leave behind. And they call Sam the Slob?

Anyway, on to the next page…

And who the heck left their Hello Kitty toy in the bathtub? Also, I hate the way Alex’s face is drawn in the lower left corner. Something about the eyes in relation to the shit eating grin just looks off. Less “smug” and gleefully awaiting whatever she plans next and looking more like Dobson when someone tells him his opinion and reasoning for it is bad, but he can’t yell back at them because they are part of a minority and so he has make a “good face” to a bad situation, while internally he is already imagining how to strawman them in some fake news worthy facebook post.

And then we get to page 7. Which features the WORST addition to the “Alex ze Pirate” canon Dobson has ever thought up. An embodiment of what is wrong with Dobson when it comes to inserting internet culture related stuff into his own work. Ladies and gentlemen… the lolcat pirates

Yeah, those Hello Kitty rejects who ironically look still more like a proper cat than Spot in Danny and Spot, are essentially one of the worst jokes Dobson has ever created. Because they are a joke without a punchline. See, all there is to them is that they are sentient cats, that speak in a manner associated with lolcat posting. And that is the “joke”. Their speech pattern being based on a dumb internet meme that was popular at the time Dobson drew this page. It is like if you portray an Asian by making them talk with a shitty racist accent and that supposedly counts already as comedy. It is not funny, because there is nothing really done with it in context of the story. Like no one addresses the weird way they talk. Also, with the font Dobson uses, it is just an eyesore to any reader and the text gets aggravating the more the captain of the cats talks. It shows why lolcat pictures only had very short sentences accompanying the pics, cause reading more than 8 words written in this manner tingles a part of your brain that makes you want to shout “English motherfucker, do you speak it”?

Don’t get me even started on how the joke would get lost to anyone unaware of lolcats and how dated the joke already was back when the page was posted, which is one of many reasons why comic artists should just in general avoid memes in their work, if they hope for it to pass the test of time. Instead let me just point out the fact that though Alex said “All hands prepared for casting off” on the previous page (which is also a very unnatural way to give the order “Everyone get ready! Take off in 10 minutes”) not all hands are on board, seeing how Uncle Peggy is missing on this page (and spoilers) many pages of this afterwards. Weird. I thought he would be onboard the moment Alex mentioned they are going to hijack a ship full of pussy. Lastly, this is Alex being a “badass”? Taking over a ship full of little furballs you can defeat with a laserpointer, a squeaky toy and catnip? Sam, this is not just “almost” embarrassingly easy, this is literally on a level similar to stealing candy from a baby. That is mentally handicapped. And without supervision. In a candy story.

At least it turns out there is genuinely something worth stealing on this ship. Otherwise all Alex would have accomplished on that very day would have been animal abuse for the sake of entertainment. Though now it also gets me thinking: A place called Katsville, the revelation that the captain is supposedly the child of a high ranking military feline within the sea force of an entire species of sentient cats… how exactly does the world of Alex ze Pirate function? Look, I do not want to get into too much detail about this point here yet, because it is a bigger issue with the worldbuilding (or rather lack thereof) of this series in general, but what is the “consistency” when it comes to races and species in this world? See, One Piece for example is overall a very “cartoonish” and fantastic world (more cartoonish than what Dobson creates on average) when you think of the fact there are fish men, giant seacows and seamonsters, sentient furry creatures, islands in the sky, sentient weather phenomenons etc next to humans. And while Oda does not really spend time elaborating in very high detail how his world works, the sheer abundance of those elements and how they were established pretty early on in the story and are revisited constanly, with the cartoonish flavor and humor of One Piece on top of it, makes those oddities feel organic and a part of the world.

Not so much in AzP. Here over 90% of the time any character not related to the crew is some generically drawn human, in a very generically human setting with jokes just not cartoonish enough. So the world of AzP feels more “realistic” and less oddish, making then things like Talus, the lolcat pirates and once a giant sea dragon that looked like Elliot’s rejected cousin

Stand out like a sour thumb that looks like this

But I digress. Lets see what makes Sam, who just seems bored and wants to end his miserable life/drink his sorrows away, throw the cat captain against the wall.

Okay. Sam’s overall reaction makes it clear, the locket is important. So “kudos” for establishing this and in doing so also create within a moment a bit of intrigue for the reader. After all, why does this locket get such a reaction out of Sam, who we know so far as more happy go lucky or deadpan in parts, instead of looking genuinely distraught. Heck, the fact he even tells Alex to shut up when she commands him around should highlight how out of character finding this locket truly makes Sam.

Then there is Alex’s reaction to being told to shut up, which she takes with as much dignity as someone telling Dobson to just stop fawning about underaged lesbians in a toddler show.

Jesus Christ, she faces being told she looks like a guy with more grace than that. I mean, isn’t she used to being told to shut her trap? Cause if I were her parents, I would have told this entitled redheaded whinner a few times over the course of her childhood to shut up.

Scum sucking cabin boy… said by a butt ugly whore who would genuinely suck scum off if it means she can finally get laid instead of being mistaken for a man. By the way, with that angry face she makes in the first panel, I can totally see why others would mistake her for a dude. She just looks unpleasant and not in a funny way like that red panda girl from Aggretsuko. See, when she gets angry, it looks hilarious and cute because of the contrast to how the character looks ordinarily. This is just Alex looking even more unpleasant as usual.

Now, before I continue with the next pages, I like to point out the face Sam makes in the upper panel and Sam’s overall body language in the last one.

It is obvious that Sam is meant to be in a state of mind where he knows for what he is getting yelled at and where he genuinely reacts in a hurt manner. His body shaking, his head tilted down, not saying even a word. You would expect that the next page of this comic would be a follow up. Seeing Sam, who is pent up, lashing out in some way. Either for example by justifying why he said it, getting sad, angry, perhaps even violent in that situation. After all, so far the way this story has been structured, a lot of emphasize was put on the fact that Sam is treated not well and that finding this locket actually has an uncommon effect on him. Heck, even the title of this chapter hints on the idea, that we should get some sort of huge reaction out of Sam now on the next page, as this is supposed to be Sam’s story.

Instead it is just Alex grumbling and grinding her teeth, unable to comprehend that someone finally told her something every reader with more than 20 braincells said when reading this comic series. And this in my opinion is from a structural point, one of the biggest missteps in this story. Obviously, this is supposed to be a comic about Sam, based on title and him being the one character in it with the most emotional aspects so far. And it is also obvious that this is not just meant to be a silly gag comic but supposedly one with emotional weight. So, where is that weight so far, aside from the panels showing Sam being miserable because he gets the short end of the stick by his friends? Sorry to hijack this thing here now with my own ideas, but if I had writen this story, page 12 and 13 would have actually been an immense turning point for me in the dynamic so far. Why I would have let Alex shout at Sam for insubordination, I would have made it more than one panel of Alex calling him scum and also end likely with Sam, who obviously reaches a limit the longer she goes on about it, end punching her in the face, perhaps even knock out. Show truly just how far Sam is pushed emotionally at this moment, keeping it however ambiguous if he hit her because of her words hurting or because of something else, in doing so focusing also the attention to the reader back on the locket.

As an aftermath of this, Alex would (if not knocked out) hit Sam back, much to Atea’s and Talus horror, later implying additionally that Sam left because of being hit by whom he thinks is not just his captain but a “friend” (oh yes spoiler, Sam is gone in the next chapter) or the next page would be of Alex waking up back in her hideout from having been knocked out. Atea and Talus informing her what happened, her deciding to deal with Sam later on after recovering (who accompanied everyone back on the island temporarily) only for the last page showing Sam deciding that he is leaving the island, ending the chapter on Sam in a small boat slowly drifting away from the island. You know, something to give the chapter the feeling that the “shut up” moment is an emotional turning point in this story and that there might be something bigger going on that resulted in Sam deciding to leave, without having him however go full Meg Griffin as in the Family Guy episode “Seashell Seahorse Party”, chewing Alex and the others out for the way they treat him. Cause honestly, as much as I like for Alex, Atea and Talus to be chewed out and face consequences for their actions, doing so would likely just be (like in that Family guy episode) a pointless fillerbuster in the bigger picture of things, as no real consequences would come out of it.

Well that and just like the writers of Family Guy, Dobson is just equally loathsome and thinks he can write whatever sick joke he wants and can on his characters, basic decency or consistency in writing be damned.

But back to the comic, where things just “end” as shown here instead of any real emotions boiling up and a cliffhanger that may genuinely beg the question what is going to happen next to anyone involved in this thing.

Cause really, by the time it is night and Sam says it is time to go, you are not surprised he wants to go, even if he did not have a genuine emotional outburst within this chapter. After all, who wants to stay with “friends” like this, with Talus and Atea not even trying to cheer him up and instead ignoring his obvious need for comfort in this uncomfortable way, as if they are a bunch of racists trying to look away as someone beats a black person in front of them into a pulp. The only question you may ask yourself by the time the last page is hit, is who that generic looking girl is, whose picture has been photoshopped into the locket.

Something we may not find out by the time the next chapter and part of this review hits, but will get to eventually. Until then guys, in order to end on something happier, funnier and just genuinely more pleasant than what this story presented to us so far, have something silly and Super Sentai related here for the sake of childish entertainment.

youtube

#Andrew Dobson #alex ze pirate #webcomics #syac #tom preston #abusive female heroes #abusive heroes #atea #talus #comics #cartoons #this sucks #storytelling 101 #adobsonartwork

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isa-ghost · 5 years

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Stuff About Isa Nobody Asked For

Genuinely misses Anti. Not for any intimate or morally questionable reason but just bc she misses the adrenaline rush being around him was and getting to observe him idly existing. She’s gotten to see more plain, human behavior from Anti than anyone and she deeply misses the power it gave her. She misses reading him and having the privilege to safely just.. watch him exist, and misses the high of weaving through conversation with him without getting herself in trouble. She partially blames her longing to have this ability back for her hookup on Anti.

Since she can’t have this privilege back she really wishes she had someone to gush to and reminisce about it to but anyone she’d consider gushing about anything to in general would likely frown upon her fondness and yearning for it. Writing about it obsessively in her journal isn’t satisfying enough.

She frequently gets this almost instinctual feeling she’s going to play a major part in whenever Anti suffers his downfall and how it happens. She’s got I’m The Main Protagonist And I Don’t Think Its By Choice syndrome and she gets this feeling so vividly so often she’s dreamed of ways it would play out many times. They’re all saved in her journal in extensive detail.

Isa is incredibly introverted- partially out of personal shame she can’t quite shake off -and finds it hard to be as boldly present as she used to be. However, as soon as she’s comfortable with those who are present, she absolutely thrives off deep conversations that flow smoothly from topic to topic and has a huge affinity for extremely detailed analysis. She could sink her teeth into something and milk every last detail out for hours, stretching out thoughts about even the tiniest, most insignificant things. She could intricately discuss the details of details. This is what makes her such a passionate theorist (aside from her copious amounts of intel on Anti) and exactly why Cali appointed her head of the ONW Resistance Theorist Department.

At times she can be too self-aware for her own good, which only makes her more self-conscious. Sometimes she’s too cynical, sometimes she’s too obsessed with trauma, sometimes she’s too focused on her guilt and shame, and the list goes on. She hates that she’s picked up on these mindsets she has and hates that they all feel so intense.

She’s a huge tinkerer and loves crafting things, especially if they’ll be useful for her or others to use. She’s built devices and random trinkets as gifts for family members, especially Henrik, and built a majority of Community all on her own out of sheer enjoyment in having a huge project to hyperfocus on for a good while. Even now after Community has existed for months, she’s still finding little things here and there to build and add onto.

Despite her bad habit of doubting and sometimes degrading herself, she’s extremely grateful for everything she has. This is especially true with Henrik. She is thrilled to have an actual healthy father figure in her life, even though she is still struggling with a) feeling like she deserves him b) getting used to having a father figure at all since she hasn’t had a father since she was a toddler. The same can be said for her relationship with her boyfriend Kai.

She l i v e s for her relationship with Henrik. They’re so alike in so many ways, she gets an absolute kick out of how easy it is for her to bond with him.

She sometimes forgets how lucky she is to know the egos personally and gets confused at how magical it is for others to even see their faces. Although she’s become accustomed to them living around her constantly, seeing other community members being stunned to see the egos in person warms her heart.

She despises wearing dresses and skirts yet loves the aesthetic of them. Masculine Gay(tm) to the core.

Even with her love for details and deep analysis, overloading her with them or with a broad topic with a lot to unpack sends her attention spiraling and she gets overwhelmed. This often causes her ramblings and such to fall short or feel lesser in quality than something she feels she can cover the entirety of easily.

She has an obsession with big cats and its one of the few “normal” passions she’s maintained even after the war has changed her so much.

She either feels super proud and powerful about how much she’s changed after all she’s been through or feels like a stranger in her own body desperately trying to contact the ghost of her old self and grieving its death, there’s no in-between.

When it comes to kids and babies, she is the classic “nononononono no no no no no oH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SMALL HUMAN” type of person.

Has a probably semi-unhealthy okayness with how often and how hard her permanent corruption causes her to disassociate. She’s interested in attempting to study how her own mind and body functions when it happens.

Ironically even though she’s super interested in analysis and studying how things work, she’s not very into science. The closest interest she has to science- which could be argued that it IS a science -is psychology.

She has the sketchbooks she obsessively drew Anti in during October 2016. Looking at them now fills her with an emotion she can’t really describe.

Part of her wants her loved ones to invade her privacy and read the things in her journal, even though a majority of it would concern or otherwise bother them. She’s curious how they’d react.

She constantly seeks out Mantis and Caspian so the three of them can hang out alone. They often reminisce and talk about their puppet days and what recovery is like from all of it.

She especially, but also the boys, sometimes have “off days” whether caused by permanent corruption or something else where they want to do nothing but stick together and only speak to each other.

#bunker 88720 #Isa #oc #original characters #original character #i wanna add more but the ones i have are long so xD #also you can tell shes a persona bc a lot of these are me projecting hAH

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dailydoseofcolor · 4 years

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Taking Stock of Units in Fire Emblem Heroes, Part 2

Next! Let’s take a look at the merged heroes I have and feel some sort of affinity for:

My 5*+10s:

Nowi (+Atk): She still puts in WORK. My first 5*+10 and she is an evergreen feature on any Grand Conquest teams, first runs of Lunatic maps, etc. She deserves a kit upgrade sometime soon, but somehow LB/Aether/SB/QR/Threaten Res/Distant Def still get the job done almost every time. Sothe (+Spd): Sothe is one of the first characters I ever really fell in love with from Radiant Dawn. He was an easy +10 decision. Again, I need to upgrade his kit soon, I have Broadleaf Dagger+ fodder....I just feel like I have to choose between him and Matthew, and I adore Matthew’s personality and I feel like I just need to bite the bullet and just raise both. Ross (+Spd): I literally yelped when he was released. Favorite character from the first game I actually beat (played FE7 first but beat it after beating SS). Every major decision in summoning since his release was clouded by “but I should still summon on Green for Ross merges.” But he’s done! This little dude runs so many builds and is also a main staple on teams. The Almosts (Most of these I actually have the resources to +10 but have been holding off because of a need to keep resources on hand to remain competitive):

Lyon, +7: My sweet boy. Major staple on most teams for a while before he just...couldn’t keep up. He needs a refine BADLY. Sophia literally takes him behind the woodshed and beats him within an inch of his life. We all know he likes it. He was the first person I sacked a Counter skill to. I love him and I want the best for him...but not until I know what his refine is.

Mordecai, +7 (+Atk): Another soft boy. Honestly, I merged him up because I had them available and got drunk while playing PoR. He functions very well at this merge level. I’ll get him up one day, but he really can’t be a focus right now, given he serves a very similar combat function to Nowi.

Shigure, +6 (+Atk): This is one of those scenarios where the voice actor really drew me to the character. Matt Mercer kills Shigure’s voice lines and also I got pitybroken by him a LOT. He’s got a pretty balanced stat-line, but performs better as a player phase duelist....except I want to eventually use Valter instead. That’s 99% the only reason I’ve held off, the other is having Harmonic Lance+ fodder just in case. I have the merges for Shigure, but I have a feeling this is as far as he goes.

Micaiah, +5 (+Atk): Best girl from RD (we all know this). Honestly, I haven’t ever sniped for merges on her, these are all organic, which is impressive. But she deserves the +10 and I think I would rank her pretty high in terms of trying to achieve that. Too bad I just missed several good opportunities to do so. This is why I should have done this a while ago.

Nino, +5 (+Spd): I have uncovered a not-so-secret trend. I have a major bias towards characters from Blazing Blade, Sacred Stones, Path of Radiance, Radiant Dawn and, to an extent, Awakening. These were the games I played growing up, so it makes sense that they stayed. ANYWAY. Nino, adorable and punches through everything. I find I don’t really have a ton of space for her on teams, though...she was easy to merge and offers no fodder. I have all the materials, but she’ll honestly have to wait, like Mordecai.

Now, I think I should list out every character with at least +1 merge, to sort through who should be a priority. So this will go in descending order:

Mia, +3 (+Res): One of the only speedy sword girls I actually give a shit about (unsurprisingly). I would love a +10 eventually. Masked Marth, +3: A product of a bygone age. I never spent any real fodder on her, so I’ll chalk this one up to *meh*. OG Eliwood, +3 (+Atk): I have all the resources to +10 him. He’s my favorite Lord. He’s incredible in combat. He has amazing Resplendent Art. Why the fuck have I not finished him. I’ve failed my boy. Forgive me Eliwood. He’s clearly a high level priority. What have I been doing. Astram, +2: He’s a strong unit and has a great niche but I just....don’t care about him. I built him for this week’s Arena needs. His cost is just way too high as a Grail unit. He’ll stay at +2 for now. Joshua, +2: He was almost my first grail merge project and I...held off. Idk, his cost is so high. but I love his personality and he’s near the top of the grail pile that deserves a refine. I might wait until then?? Idk, I’m torn. I think he could put in good work if I took the time to kit him properly. I need to put more thought into him. Eldigan, +2 (+Def): Multiple pitybreakers that have been merged. Garbage. Next. Donnel, +2 (+Atk): Donnel’s another character I’ve always really liked, but held off, because my Blue Enemy Phase Infantry slot remains filled. His new refine gives him an interesting niche, but is he worth the resources? I have the merges and feathers, but I’m hesitant to pull the trigger. Hawkeye, +2 (+Def): Another random decision I made months and months ago for...no particular reason? He’s got a great refine, but there’s nothing he can do that Ross or Brave Ike can’t. Brave Ike, +2 (+Atk): Speaking of...amazing typing, amazing refine, I sacked my only Nailah to him in order to finally make it to T21 in AR. I have one more waiting in the wings, because I worry that I might need Steady Breath for someone in the future. But I think the ship has sailed on SB’s hey-day. An extra merge for survivability is likely better. Rath, +2 (+Spd): I love Rath so much. His personality, his art, all great. He got SHAFTED stat line wise but....we shall prevail. I have a +Atk waiting in the wings, but I think I’ll keep the +Spd. Speed is king and will remain king until something drastic changes in the meta. He could be +7 with the copies I have, so I’ll likely up his merges soon. Lissa, +2 (+Res): I love Lissa. She’s so cute and she was the first true defensive healer, and I LOVE healers...but she’s incredibly outclassed at this point. Resplendent Lissa when??? I don’t see this going forward without some kind of refine/Resplendent. Adult Tiki, +2 (+Atk): Tiki has the misfortune of just not appearing as fast as Nowi did in terms of merges. I don’t love all dragon teams, and Nowi has the better color. Plus her refine isn’t amazing. She’ll remain here for now. Y!Marth, +1 (+Atk): I am on the fence about whether I feel regret for not pulling more for Y!Marth. His weapon is so strong, he’s got great stats, and not great fodder. But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I decided +1 was better than trying for the +10 and getting mad when I spent money on orbs. But he puts in work. I love him as a unit. OG Alm, +1 (+HP): Funnily enough, as an almost day-one player, I didn’t pull an OG Alm until halfway through his availability as a Limited-Time Divine Code option. He was a free pull on some random banner and obviously got a merge afterwards. I like his character, but I don’t know if I will ever make an effort to +10. Saber, +1 (+Atk): One of my absolute favorite units. One of the characters I had Summoner Supported for a period of time. His refine is very interesting and allows for some really interesting builds. I might need to make more of an effort for him in the future. Ayra, +1 (+HP): I’ll be honest, I don’t love Ayra. I don’t like the speed arms race she kicked off, and I’m bummed I didn’t just use her as Swift Sparrow fodder. Whatever. Black Knight, +1: Big surprise here: I love the Black Knight. I think he still holds up as a viable option for Red Armors. His cost remains high as a Grail unit, but I think it might be worth it, given how many armor skills exist now. Elincia, +1 (+Atk): The trend continues: character from PoR and RD that I love. She’s got amazing player phase capabilities, and eventually she’d be a great +10. Lukas, +1 (+Atk): The OG physical tank. Great personality and solid niche, but I have others who do the same thing. Nephenee, +1 (+Spd): The Halberdier class in PoR still ranks as one of my all time favorite character ranks. Nephenee languished as -Spd for a long time before I snagged another merge. I love her character and need to prioritize her builds. I’d love for her to demote one day (lol), but she’ll go on the list of 5* exclusive merge desires. OG Azura, +1 (Neutral): I feel like OG Azura is still outclassed, even with her Resplendent stats. Although she has a strong niche as a triple Chill support unit. I need to actually build her and deploy her before I sink any real assets into her. Legendary Ephraim, +1 (+Res): I pulled Legendary Ephraim long before I ever pulled OG Ephraim. He finds use mostly as a Grand Conquests lead. Which makes me realize that I don’t have a ton of lance cavaliers....or really any that I would really love to build. I’ll look into this. Altena, +1 (+Def): I adore Altena. She’s one of those characters that FEH really introduced me to and I fell in love with her personality, and she’s got a great kit. I’d love for her to be 3*/4*, but I find myself thinking I should pull for Blue on random banners, just in case I pull extras. She’s a high priority merge project. Halloween Dorcas, +1: Another case of a strange decision made without any real thought. Especially since Hack-o’-Lantern+ is a solid axe to have in a unit’s back pocket. I’m suddenly mad at myself for doing this. Minerva, +1 (+Atk): You know, Minerva was the third 5* I ever pulled in this game, and I never really found a use for her somehow. I suppose I avoided flying units for a long time, just because they were always physical, and usually less useful than infantry or cavalry units (what a time). She’s merged because of a pity breaker. Young Minerva, +1: Ironic, I know. Y!Minerva is near the top of my list for Grail projects. She’ll likely get a +10 eventually, it’s hard to top the skills she has available. And I’m weirdly a sucker for tiny children who destroy enemies. I love this unit. Legendary Alm, +1 (+Def): My first pull of L!Alm was -Spd, which was a major fucking bummer. I ultimately decided I needed to fix that when I pulled one a while back, it was a good decision. I am never going to have the resources to pump more into him, though. So his base kit will do for now. Matthew, +1 (+Atk): Let’s talk briefly about how fucking bad Matthew’s attack stat is. At lvl 41 with a 14 mt dagger equipped and attack boon he has 43 attack. Literal garbage. His refine makes him useable and I want to +10 him so badly because I love his character, but again, it clashes directly with the Sothe I already built, who only loses out on the defense that Matthew’s packing. It’s hard to justify, ngl. Kagero, +1 (+Atk): I am only human. Every once in a while, I am susceptible to the pull of a waifu or two. Cool refine, solid niche, but hard to justify when I have characters that do the work better. Julia, +1 (+Def): Another character I didn’t have for literal years, and got in back to back banners long after she had a hey-day. Crystalelemental on Tumblr loves Julia and, honestly, that love kinda rubbed off. She doesn’t even have skills equipped, but I’ve been on the lookout for a way to deploy her. She’ll get a good kit eventually. Legendary Female Fallen Robin, +1 (+Spd): Describing some of these characters becomes a mouthful. Solid niche, and she got a merge because she kept pitybreaking me on the road to Bramimond. The rest were sacked for Res Smoke fodder. She’s useful from time to time, but not a favorite. Lethe, +1 (+Def): I always liked Mordecai more than Lethe, but she hits a lot of criteria for me. Her typing holds her back a little bit, though. I also don’t run all beast teams very often, and that’s where she really shines. It also doesn’t help that her first appearance was as -Atk. Sometimes heroes with bad IVs that you love kinda lose their luster, which is sad. Kaden, +1 (Neutral): Both times a pitybreaker. Great niche as a unit, sees plenty of use when I’m running Bonus Doubler shenanigans. Doesn’t see a ton of use outside of that.

Phew. That was a lot to write. If you read through that....I am deeply impressed. I think next is taking stock of what I actually want in terms of unit niches, and which ones would fill those roles that I could target.

#ddc talks FEH #ddc talks #fire emblem heroes #part 2 #fire emblem

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ladyrevanhalin · 5 years

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TWISTED MORALITY (PART III of ONLY LIGHT CAN CAST SHADOW) CHAPTER THREE: SEEKING SHELTER FROM THE STORM (PREVIEW SECTION 8 OF 16)

(AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is a preview section from an incomplete Chapter. You can read everything up to this point on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16538378/chapters/52449547 )

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CARTH ONASI

The Taris Upper City Cantina was a rather large and bustling place, yet with a certain amount of sophistication to it when compared to your average, every-day cantina. There were members clearly of the Tarisian noble class hanging about, and a private lounge just for patrons of this status. There was a high stakes pazaak table near the entrance that Carth and Gwen passed on their way to the central bar. The two took a seat and ordered.

It had been a bit unnerving coming there. After all, they’d passed several Sith Troopers patrolling the streets, and one had even been standing guard posted at the front entrance of the cantina. It would be impossible for them to avoid the Sith entirely on this planet. They would just have to try to do what they could to keep their low profile until they could find Bastila and secure passage off of this Sith-controlled planet.

Carth took a sip of the Tarisian ale he’d ordered when the bartender brought it to him. A wave of expressions streamed over his face upon the initial entry on the palate, and he finished his first sip gritting his teeth. It was far stronger than he’d expected. He’d not had time to try the stuff last time he was on Taris. After all, it was during the previous war, and the Republic forces had only just recaptured the planet from Mandalorian control. As he was fleet, he wasn’t ever groundside for very long. Most of that work had been led by the Jedi.

He shook his head and took another sip at that thought. It was ironic, really. Once upon a time, the Jedi Revan’s forces had taken back Taris from the Mandalorians and saved the planet. And now, the very Jedi who had aided them before had conquered the planet once more. Only this time, it was in the name of the Sith. And they hadn’t really ‘conquered,’ no…. The Tarisian upper class had never forgotten Revan’s aid in the Mandalorian Wars, and when Revan and Malak had returned to conquer the Republic, the nobles of Taris had submitted willingly. Now, it was quite clear from what he’d seen so far that the majority of Taris’ citizens didn’t agree with the decision, but the class system of Taris had created a society in which the few voices of the rich outweigh the voices of the masses.

He glanced over at Gwen, who was seated on the stool beside him at the bar with her head propped on her up by her hand with an elbow on the counter, while the fingers of her opposite hand tapped impatiently in sequence as she waited on her food. There was a glass of some sort of nectar in front of her. Carth had discouraged his companion from stronger beverages, given the fact that she was still recovering, and had eventually succeeded in having her agree despite her initial reluctance.

He was enjoying his ale and trying to block out the tapping when he suddenly heard Gwen’s voice. “So is now a better time to get to know a little more about you, Carth?”

He set his drink down and turned more directly toward her this time. Her finger tapping had stopped and her brows raised as she looked him dead in the eye with some degree of expectancy which told Carth she wasn’t going to let him ignore her request. He sighed a little before responding to her.

“Well, I've been a star-pilot for the Republic for years. I've seen more than my share of wars… I fought in the Mandalorian Wars before all this started. But with all that, I've never experienced anything like the slaughter these Sith animals can unleash. Not even the Mandalorians were that senseless.” Carth swallowed. He’d seen far too many images that haunted his mind still from his experiences in the war. Avoiding discussion let him push them back but that wasn’t really an option in the current situation. He couldn’t fault Gwen for wanting to know a little about him. After all, it was just the two of them stuck there until they could locate Bastila. This meant, however, that he’d need to tread his own memories with a degree of caution. He continued. “My home world was one of the first planets to fall to Malak's fleet. The Sith bombed it into submission, and there wasn't a damned thing our Republic forces could do to stop them!”

“Calm down. I was just asking. Geesh…”

He blinked a moment, then realized his hand was clenched into a fist so tightly that his knuckles had begun to go white. He relaxed his hand, flexing his fingers a little in retraction. “You're the one who wanted to know more about me,” he said, attempting to keep a cool air about him. “Well this is it, this is what I am. I'm just a soldier; I go where the fleet Admirals tell me to. I follow my orders and I do my duty.”

“Yeah, well you're talking like it's your fault about the war and your planet. Like you failed somehow….”

“It shouldn't be my fault. I did everything I could… I followed my orders and did my duty. That shouldn't mean I failed them! I didn't!” His voice was betraying him. It had grown more seeped with emotions. He could still see the glow of embers that charred the surface of Telos after the Sith attack. The dead and dying were all around, friends and loved ones among them. Innocents dying there in the streets. He could still hear their voices, their screams, their cries for help…

‘Someone get a medic over here now! Please! She’s still alive! A medic! It’s not too late to save her. It’s not too late…’

“Hey, why are you getting so mad at me? It's not like this was my fault!”

Gwen’s voice brought him back away from Telos’ surface and to that posh little Tarisian cantina where they were seated. Her good seemed to have arrived while he had been talking, but she’d not started eating yet. Instead, she was looking at him with what appeared to be concern.

“I know that,” I know that he said, hoping to dissuade any impressions he might have given of blaming her for what was, but shouldn’t have been, his own failure. “I'm not angry at you… don't think that. I…. I just…” He let out a frustrated sigh. “ I'm sorry. I'm not making much sense, am I?” He shook his head. “ Look, you probably mean well with your questions. I'm just not accustomed to talking about my past very much. At all, actually. I'm more used to taking action… keeping my mind focused on the business at hand. So let's just do that. If you have more questions, ask them later.”

“Right,” Gwen said, turning her attention instead to her meal. Carth picked up his mug again and took another sip of ale, desperately trying to push aside the memories that threatened to spring forth through his own emotional blocks. Now wasn’t the time to think of Telos. He had to focus on their mission to find Bastila so that the Sith could be stopped and an end could be brought to this war. Failure wasn’t an option this time. He had to go through with this, if it was the last thing he did….

“I'm sorry, Carth…”

He paused, but he did not look at his companion as she spoke. He was in no mood for such.

“....It must have been a very painful experience for you,” Gwen finished saying.

“Yeah, well, I’ve just made it a point to not let that sort of thing happen again,” Carth said. He debated, for a brief moment, chugging the rest of his ale, but decided against such. After all, if he finished too soon, he’d have nothing to do while his companion ate, and might get lassoed back into another conversation. Additionally, with how strong Tarisian ale was, he wasn’t certain it would be the smartest move for him to be able to remain at optimum functionality during their first outing on Taris. They needed information on those crashed escape pods still, and the cantina, even with the number of patrons it had seemed blissfully free of Sith presence inside of its doors. Here, it would likely be relatively safe for them to conduct their questioning of the locals on the matter.

Carth paced himself with the ale until he saw Gwen was close to finishing her meal, and then signaled the waiter to bring them their checks. Once they had paid, Carth rose from the barstool where he had been seated and stretched a little. “Well, I guess it’s back to business,” he said. “Feeling better now?” he asked.

Gwen nodded, rising also. “Much,” she replied. “Sorry if I came off a bit… ungrateful.”

Carth had to hold back a snort, but apparently his thoughts had still manifested themselves at least partially in his facial expressions, because his companion shot him a leer all the same. He coughed in an attempt to excuse himself, which only caused her to roll her eyes. “N-no,” Carth insisted with a chuckle, putting his hands up to indicate he meant no offense. “Not ungrateful… I suppose I’d be a bit grumpy first waking up out of a three-day near coma too…”

He looked at her, plastering on an uneasy smile, but her expression remained hard and relatively unchanging. She held his eyes, staring at him for a moment before her lips twisted into a suppressed smile and she snorted back a laugh of her own. While it did male Carth feel much more at ease, he couldn’t help but to wonder what was going on in that head of hers. He still wasn’t fully convinced of the physician Zelka’s assessment of her.

He contemplated commenting on her odd behavior before a commotion caught both of their attentions as a large number of patrons began flocking toward the viewscreens lining the walls of the cantina.

“Hurry!” they heard someone say. “The match is about to start.”

“What’s the point?” came another patron’s voice. “It’s only Gerlon and Duncan again.

Curiosity about the commotion for the upcoming ‘match’ drew both Carth and Gwen to join the other patrons watching the viewscreen in the cantina.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” came an announcer’s voice. “I draw your attention to the dueling ring. Here, two combatants will battle for your viewing and gambling enjoyment. Now, I hope all your bets are down, because we're ready to roll! In this corner, I give you... Gerlon Two-Fingers! And over here, looking to climb the ranks yet again is the ever persistent Deadeye Duncan!”

On the view screen, there were two men standing on opposite ends of a large circular arena. When the camera zoomed in on the combatants, the younger of the two appeared to be missing fingers on his right hand (Carth could only assume that this was ‘Gerlon Two-Fingers’) and the other a bit older, as his hair was greying. Reason would venture to assume that the older man was the one whom the announcer had referred to as ‘Deadeye Duncan.’ Both men were armed with blasters, hands at rest, waiting for the signal for the dual to begin.

A sound flared, signaling for the duel to begin. However, it came so suddenly that it seemed to startle ‘Deadeye’ enough that he dropped his blaster. As he reached down to pick it up, ‘Two-Fingers’ was already firing and hit him, causing Deadeye to fall. And just like that, as suddenly as the match had started, it was all over.

The announcer’s voice sounded again. “And, to nobody's great surprise, Deadeye is down again. Don't worry, folks – he's just unconscious. As usual. Our medics will have him up and about in a bit. Well, that was quick, wasn't it? So I give you the winner... Gerlon Two-Fingers!”

People had already begun clearing from the viewscreen area before the announcer had even begun his concluding statements. It seemed from the crowd’s reactions that the outcome was already expected to turn out the way it had.

Carth reached to touch Gwen’s arm to indicate they should start their rounds of questioning, but stopped short. He recalled her reaction to when he’d done similar during their visit to the clinic, and thought perhaps he’d better not. Instead, he called her name. “Gwen? Gwen, we should get going. We have a lot to do still.”

Gwen, who had seemed to be wrapped up in watching the medics as they removed Deadeye Duncan from the arena, turned to look at him. “Hmm? Oh…. I guess you’re right. Where do you think we should start? Won’t it sound suspicious if we just go around asking anyone about the escape pods?”

She did make an excellent point. Sith presence or not, they would need to be cautious. After all, it would be foolish to assume that all Tarisian’s loyalies lied with the Republic. He’s learned that the hard way….

“We keep it casual,” Carth said decisively. “If anyone asks, we’re spacers who got stuck by the planetary quarantine after we stopped for supplies.”

Gwen nodded in affirmation and stepped away from the viewscreen, headed toward the music lounge. There were several people sitting and standing, listening to the Bith band play and watching the Twi’lek dancers. They were some of the few positions in the upper city where alien species were readily accepted. In this particular case, it was because of their species’ reputations in the performing arts. While they were acceptable as entertainers to the upper city citizens, it was understood by all parties that the respect for them ended there, sad as it was.

"Well, hello there!” the pair heard upon stepping through the entry to the music room. “I see from your exotic appearance that you are not from Taris originally. All me to introduce myself – my name is Jergan.” The man--Jergan--was seemingly directing his introduction toward Gwen.

The woman flashed a smile, moving forward, which admittedly confused Carth. He’d not known her for very long, but it seemed a bit out of character compared to what he had come to know of her. “Pleased to meet you. My name's Gwen.” Was she flirting with him? It hardly seemed like the time… though they did need information. Perhaps this was just the woman’s way of being ‘subtle’ with her questioning.

“What do you think of our local music?” Jergen asked. “The band is quite good, wouldn't you agree? They're on the verge of intergalactic stardom, you know.”

“It's different, but I like it,” Gwen said.

“Obviously you have an ear for music,” he continued in an approving tone. “Mark my words, they'll be famous soon enough. They were about to go on tour before this Sith quarantine stranded them here. Would you like to meet the band after the show? Maybe have a brief brush with fame before they become intergalactic superstars? I can arrange it, you know.”

Gwen raised her eyebrows as her expression shifted to one of mild surprise. “Oh really? And just how will you arrange that?”

“I have a sort of standing arrangement with one of the Rodian bodyguards backstage. For the small sum of twenty credits he'll let me set up a meeting with you and the band.”

Gwen snorted, trying to hold back a laugh. “I think I’ll pass, thanks.”

“Are you certain? This is a once in a lifetime opportunity – meet the legends before they were famous. All it will cost you is a small handful of credits.”

The woman folded her arms. “Sounds like you're running a scam to me.”

“You sting me with your words!” Jergen said, feigning hurt. “I merely thought I could offer you the rare opportunity to meet a celebrity before they were famous. But I see you're not interested. That's too bad. They really are charming fellows. Very well, then – I hope you enjoy the music. If you change your mind come speak with me again.”

Gwen rolled her eyes and began to walk away, at which point, Carth thought it might be better to try to continue the conversation himself. After all, they’d not really gotten any useful information from him as of yet, and this man might still know something useful to them.

“Excuse me,” Carth said attempting to address Jergen himself, but he didn’t get very far before the other man waved in a dismissive gesture.

“Look, no hard feelings, my good man, but I can't really talk with you right now,” Jergen said, lowering his voice, presumably so no one else in the music room would overhear. “It's difficult enough to draw the interest of the ladies in this establishment as it is. Surely you understand what I'm talking about. I'd guess you've experienced many lonely evenings... something I'm hoping to avoid tonight.” He gestured a bit with his head toward Gwen. “Good luck.”

Before Carth had the chance to protest the insinuation, Jergen had started moving. It seemed he had spotted his next prospect across the room. The pilot shook his head at the comments and went to go find Gwen again, who was already mid-conversation with another male patron.

“Someone sure makes fast friends,” he muttered under his breath as he moved to stand behind her.

“It's good to talk about this stuff – It gets pretty lonely up at the military base,” Carth overheard the man she was talking to say. “I have to get going soon – I've got a shift at the base... but some of us junior Sith officers are having a party tonight to blow off some steam. I'd really like to see you again. Why don't you drop by the party? It’s at the apartment complex next door to the base, apartment A-06.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Gwen said coyly. “Not sure I have anything suited to wear back on the ship. I wasn’t exactly planning on going to any parties during our supplies stop…”

“You know, just because I'm with the Sith doesn't mean I don't know how to have a good time. You'll enjoy yourself. I promise. Don't be late. We're starting right after our shifts end. And don’t worry. Most of us won't even be going back to the base to lock up our uniforms, so I’m sure you’ll look fine. I look forward to seeing you there.”

Carth cleared his throat once the man had left. “An off-duty Sith, Gwen? Really?”

“What? He seemed nice enough…” she replied dismissively.

“You can’t be serious. We’re trying to keep a low profile here. You start asking the Sith about the crashed escape pods and somebody is gonna start getting suspicious.”

“Well, I didn’t ask him about the escape pods once I knew he was Sith. I’m stupid, Carth…”

“Well then what’s this with a party now? We’re not on vacation…”

“I may have just found us a way into the Under City… or did you forget that the planet is under quarantine and the only people allowed to travel to the lower levels are the Sith? Just trust me on this.”

Carth scoffed at the notion.Trust coercing with an enemy junior officer on an enemy-controlled planet? ‘Brilliant,’ he thought sarcastically. “Well forgive me if I’m sceptical at believing that you partying with the enemy is going to help our situation any.”

“Then you’re welcome to stay back at the apartment,” she said flatly as she rolled her eyes. “Me? I’ve got plans for tonight…”

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imaginesmai · 6 years

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Ubbe-Heartbeat AU (1)

You know I love Ubbe... So I couldn’t write an AU about Hvitty without doing one about our beautiful boy. I’m kind of thirsty for a second part, with more angst and love. What do you think?

Plot: your heart doesn’t allow you to have a normal life, but it does beat faster when you meet your new doctor.

The big doors of Galway Hospital greeted you when you left your cab, taking your little backpack with you. In front of you, a few nurses talked and laughed, and on your right a little boy with a white gown ran behind a dog. It was a busy morning, a lot of people were waiting in the emergency room, and doctors were running in all directions. You stooped in front of an old lady, who was typing something in her computer.

- Excuse me? -you asked, your voice shy and low.

- Wait a second. -she finished whatever she was doing and looked at you above her glasses. -What can I do for you?

- I…am looking for Dr. Lothbrok. -you replied, looking at your hands. -I have an appointment today.

- Honey can you speak louder? I can’t hear you with all this noise. -she gave you a kind smile.

- Yeah, sorry. -you blushed. -I have an appointment with Dr. Lothbrok today. I’m new here, so I don’t know where to find him.

- Take the stairs to the second floor, then to the right until the end of the corridor and then left. -she signalled you with her hand. -There is a door with his name on it.

- Thank you! -you smiled and left.

It was the first time you had to come to the hospital. Usually, you went to your local clinic, but lately your illness had become worse. You suffered from a bad heart condition since birth, having problems to function properly and to do normal tasks. It was fine until a few months ago, when your doctor retired and you had to get another one specialized in heart conditions. Your mother heard about Dr. Lothbrok, a young man who had just been transferred to the Galway Hospital, and got you an appointment with him. Following the lady instructions, you soon found a black door with a white tag where you could read Lothbrok. After putting your nerves and anxiety aside, you knocked at the door and waited for an answer.

- Come in! -a deep voice said. When you opened the door, you didn’t know that you expected, but such a handsome man wasn’t it.

- Hi. -your little voice said.

- Hey. -he smiled, showing his pearly white teeth. -You must be Y/N?

- Yeah, that’s me. -you said, closing the door behind you. -I’m here for-

- Your heart problem, I know. -he smiled. -I mean, I’ve read your file before. I’m Ubbe, by the way.

- That’s a strange name? -you asked, and immediately you regretted. -Oh God, I’m sorry Dr. Lothbrok, I didn’t-

- No, it’s alright. -he laughed, and it was music to your ears. -It’s fine, really. I’m not from here, so a lot of people don’t get my name right. Call me Ubbe.

- Okay. -you smiled, shifting in your chair.

- Let’s talk about you darling.

At first, you thought you might die when he called you that, but after a few minutes you realised that he said darling a lot in his sentences. That didn’t mean you weren’t flustered when he said it, because not all days a hot guy calls you darling. The appointment went well; he asked you things about your health and your previous doctor, and told you that he wanted to see you at least once a month.

- Have you ever been operated Y/N? -he asked, with his arms crossed and a kind smile on his face.

- As a child, yes. When I was born, they had to perform an emergency operation on me, but that was the only time. -you were then more relaxed, and you didn’t notice time flying.

- What do you say if we try it again darling? I could run a few tests on you, and if the results come out good, we can try to get you a new heart.

- I…I’ve never thought of that. -you said. -Waiting list for transplants are too long, and I don’t fit in the urgent ones.

- But you will if this keep on. -he pushed himself forwards, looking at you in the eye. – I don’t mean to scare you. Your heart is keeping up because of the meds, but if they fail your heart does too. There is no immediate risk, I see why your previous doctor didn’t propose it… We don’t lose anything if we try, and it can only get better for you.

- If you think it’s good for me, they I guess I’m okay with it. -you smiled again, feeling your cheeks hurting for smiling for so long.

- Then I will have this planned for your next visit, which I hope it’s soon. -Ubbe said.

- Well, this is not the place I like to be. -you laughing, referring to the hospital.

- Oh, I mean-no, I just want to see you again. -he laughed. -It’s late and I hate to let you go, darling. But probably the next patience will have my head if I keep this on.

- Don’t worry Ubbe, I’ll be on my way. -you said, standing up. -So, when do I ask for my next appointment?

- Why don’t you give me your number? -he asked, blushing and looking to his desk. -If you want, of course. I can-

- Yeah, I will write it down. -after doing it, you looked at him again. -So, until next time.

- Until next time darling. -he winked.

When his door closed, you couldn’t help but giggle like a little girl. Ubbe, your incredible hot and kind and handsome doctor, had asked for your number. Maybe it didn’t mean anything, but you knew enough from doctors to know that they weren’t supposed to get that personal with their patients. Maybe it was just him being kind to you, but you really hoped it was not.

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Days passed by and Ubbe’s smile was not the only thing that filled your mind, his messages did too. After you left the hospital, you received a text from him asking if you had gotten to you house well. In your appointment you told him that you had to take a cab since your little apartment was outside the city, and he told you that he would love to take you home but his shift wasn’t over. So, with that excuse, Ubbe started a conversation with you that lasted a few days. You discovered that Ubbe was not just kind and hot, he was also funny and, if you weren’t getting the wrong signs, flirtatious towards you.

Your mood improved more when he told you that morning that he got an appointment to run the test on you. He wanted to meet you in the hospital as soon as possible, so you called your boss and told her that you couldn’t work that day for personal reasons. Astrid was a good boss, she ran a little library where you worked and earned the money to pay your rent. She understood your medical condition, and she was more than willing to give you free days whenever you needed. Finishing your call, you got into the bus and went to the hospital. There, your doctor was waiting for you in the main door.

- Y/N. -Ubbe smiled, giving you a little wink. -Can it be that you are more beautiful that the last time I saw you?

- I’m in my sports tights and in an old sweatshirt. -you laughed. You noticed that he was wearing plain t-shirt and normal trousers. -And your white doctor gown?

- Out of service, darling. I know it makes me look cool, but it’s rather uncomfortable.

- You are not working today? -you frowned. -But you told me-

- There is another doctor who runs the test. He is my friend, so I kind of asked him if I could stay with you.

- Ubbe, but it’s your free day! -you felt bad for him. He had told you that he worked a lot, he arrived home late and got up early; so, you didn’t want him to waste his free day on you.

- I know. And I don’t mind spending it with you. -he said. -Unless you want me to go.

- No, it’s okay. -you smiled.

Yes, you felt bad for your doctor. But it was true that you felt more at ease knowing that he would be with you when you were in a strange room. Ubbe walked with you towards the third floor, talking about his day and about his brothers. You learned that he was the eldest of four boys, and the only one who made it to the college. His brother Hvitserk made a course of cooking, and he worked as a chef in his town; Sigurd, the middle one, was a little lost in life; and Ivar was still in high school. Ubbe told you about his half-brother Bjorn, and he talked in a way that made you understand that he felt a lot of love and adoration for him. Soon you arrived to a big room with a lot of machines, where a nurse took your information and drew blood out of you. Then, the doctor appeared.

- Hey Y/N, I’m doctor Alfred. I’m the one who is going to run the tests, you ready? -he asked you with a kind smile, reminding you of a little child.

- Hi. -you smiled, feeling nervous around so many machines. -What…test are they?

- We are going to check your type of blood, tissues, some illness checking. Just to know you won’t risk your health, you know. And we are going to check also your calcium and iron in blood. Some radiographs, too.

- That’s… a lot of things. -you said, looking at Ubbe for support.

- Don’t worry, darling. They are harmless, just to make sure you are alright.

Alfred turned out to be a very nice doctor. He made sure you understand everything before it was done, and he had a lot of patience with your questions and nerves. Ubbe’s presence calmed your anxiety a lot, just with that you felt more optimistic in your results. Maybe it was possible to get a new heart. You had thought about it before, thinking of the life you could have if it wasn’t for the meds and for the frequents visits to the hospital. When you were a child you dreamed with a world where you wouldn’t need to be connected to a machine, where you could play with other children and ran among them. Maybe it was possible, yeah.

- That’s all Y/N. -Alfred said, shutting off the last machine while Ubbe helped you to get up.

- When will I get the results? -you asked. Your hand was still holding Ubbe’s, and you were glad he didn’t let go.

- They normally take two weeks more or less, but seeing you are Ubbe’s special patient I can have them by the end of this week.

- Oh, that’s not-

- Thanks man, I owe you. -Ubbe interrupted you.

Ubbe hugged Alfred before saying goodbye and leaving the room with you. You knew that he should probably go home, to be with his wife or girlfriend; a man like him couldn’t be single, let’s face it. And you should go to the library to help Astrid even if it was nearly lunch time.

- So, burger or pasta? -he asked suddenly.

- What?

- What do you want? Burger place or a fancy restaurant? I’m not really fond of restaurants, but I can make an exception with you.

- Are…we getting lunch together? -you asked, not sure if he was meaning it or it was just your imagination. Anyway, you loved the idea.

- Sorry, I should have asked you darling. -he laughed awkwardly, a faint blush covering his cheeks. -Do you want to grab lunch with me?

- Don’t you have anyone waiting for you at home?

- Nah, I only have Darcy, and she won’t mind. -your shoulders fell; it was obvious that he had a girl.

- I’m sure she wants to spend your free day with you.

- I left her food ready and she has a backyard to chase squirrels. -seeing the surprise in your eyes, he explained. -Darcy’s my dog, darling.

- Oh. -you laughed. -Then I guess I prefer burger place.

Ubbe smiled and took you to his car. You expected it to be an expensive one, with leather seating and automatic parking; it was a blue truck, rather small and with a few bags and cans in the back. It made you think that Ubbe wasn’t perfect, that he was also a human; and you liked him more if that was possible. He took you to a little bar in town, owned by his uncle Rollo, who was an old man that told too many bad jokes. You talked about everything, from how he started as a doctor to how you left your home to live on your own. Ubbe proved himself to be a talkative man and a good listener, and a perfect gentleman than held doors open for you.

After your lunch date, he took you to place where he said his brothers and him spent hours when they were younger. It was a little bowling local, with a few people and five lines of bowling. You played with him for what felt like hours, until your weak body was so tired that you had to sit to rest.

- Y/N? -he asked, not seeing you behind him. -Are you okay?

- Yeah, I just…need a moment. -with your heart condition, you couldn’t do exercise, and you got tired with anything. But this was the first time you regretted having that little strength. -I’m not used to moving this much.

- Oh, sorry darling. -he sat with you. -I forgot, I’m so sorry. I’m supposed to be your doctor, what a shitty one.

- No, it’s not your fault. -you smiled. -I’m the one who should be able to tell when it’s too much.

- Do you want me to take you home? -Ubbe asked you, moving your hair out of your face.

- Yeah, just let me catch my breath.

Your breathing came back to normal after a while, with the help of Ubbe’s indications. Then, he helped you to get into the car and got you home. In the ride, he apologised a thousand times, feeling bad for not thinking about you and your heart. But you felt happy, knowing that he treated you like a normal person, not like a sick one. He arrived to your home and, after some minutes talking in the door and a shy kiss on the cheek, he left. You climbed the stairs, opened your apartment and screamed in your pillow, thinking about the handsome man who you were falling for.

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In Friday morning you got a call from Ubbe saying that he got your results, and you ran towards his car more excited than ever. Since your first “date”, you had gone out with him two more times, and he had decided that you were never going to step on a bus again. Why, when he could ride you anywhere and spend some time with you? You had even met Darcy, a golden retriever with a lot of energy who tackled you to the ground when she saw you. Opening the door of the blue truck, you found a smiling Ubbe and a barking Darcy in the back.

- What is she doing here? -you laughed, turning so you could pet the soft animal’s head.

- She missed you, more than me. She keeps barking at the door waiting for you to come again, darling. -he said, starting the car.

- I missed you too, Darcy. -you said, and the dog barked loudly.

- I feel kind of jealous, you know? -Ubbe said, pretending to be sad.

- I missed you too, Ubbe. -you kissed his cheek softly, and he gripped your tight without realising the wheel.

- Do you want to go the cinema later? -he asked, looking nervous. -I finish my shift at seven, we can make it to the last pass.

- Yeah, I would like that. -a little giggle left your lips. -Oh my god, I’m so nervous Ubbe.

- Everything’s going to be okay darling, you will see. -he squeezed your tight. -You will have a new heart and you will live a normal life.

- I hope so.

The ride to the hospital felt eternal, and after leaving Darcy locked in the truck, you and Ubbe walked through the doors of the Galway Hospital. When you were reaching his office, your hand found its way to his, and with a blush in his cheeks and a cocky smile, he put his arm against your shoulders and kissed your head. His door was locked and his hands trembled while he opened it; Ubbe didn’t want to show it, but he was as nervous as you. He really hoped that you could have a new heart, even if he felt like it was wrong to be this close towards a patient.

A brown envelope was placed in his desk, along with a little note from Alfred. Ubbe didn’t waste time in closing the door, he went towards his desk and ripped it. It was silent for a few second, until a huge grin made its way into your doctor’s lips.

- What? What does it say? -you said, reading the paper but not understanding a thing.

- You are in waiting list for a heart darling. -he smiled. -They don’t have one yet, but they will as soon as he can.

- I can have a new heart. -you said slowly, savouring each word and feeling happy tears filling your eyes. -I can have a new heart Ubbe!

You laughed and let some tears leave your eyes. All your life you thought that you would have to live with meds and among doctors, but now you had an opportunity; a chance to be happy and healthy. Without thinking much, your arms found Ubbe’s neck and your lips his. At first, his arms went rigid at his sides, his eyes wide and his mouth open; not pulling back but neither kissing back. When you thought he was not going to do anything, he pulled you closer by the hips and tilted his head to kiss you better. Moving your lips against him felt right; he tasted like mint and something sweet, like heaven maybe. After a few seconds of making out against his desk, you pulled back for air, not capable of wiping the smile out of your face.

- That was good. -he whispered against your face, brushing your nose with his. -And intense, not that I am complaining.

- Do you let all your patients do this, Dr. Lothbrok? -you asked, stealing a quick peck and feeling him move his mouth towards you to catch your lips again.

- Only the most beautiful darling. -he laughed. -Finally, I can tell we are going on a date. I didn’t know how to call what we’ve been doing this week.

- I guess it’s our first movie date.

- Glad it is.

Ubbe kissed you again, this time slower and with care. He knew that your heart couldn’t pump blood as fast as it should, so it was better not to cut your breath for a long time. Still, he couldn’t resist kissing you again. And you, well, you were glad that you heart beat for someone after a long time.

#vikings imagine #vikings #vikings x reader #viking #vikings au #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe #ubbe x reader #ubbe imagine #ubbe one shot #ubbe au #doctor!au #doctor!ubbe #one shot #imaginemai #heartbeat

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hoodoo12 · 5 years

Text

And So It Begins (4/?)

SFW. Orc/Human. Orcish traditions. Fluff.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5, Part 6

Grar finally escorted you to his cabin, to show you the progress he’d made on the fireplace. Leading you there, you passed close by the pool you’d seen him in; you blushed at the memory but the Orc seemed to think the color that rose in your cheeks was due to the blowing wind.

His cabin was slightly further up the hillside from the pool, on more level ground. He’d left a few trees in the immediate area, although you could see where he’d cut many down to provide space and have the working material for his home. It was one room, like your hut, but unlike it, the walls and the floor inside were solid wood.

Overhead, the beams supporting the roof were strung with various pieces of meat, drying, as well as a few clusters of garlic and onions. Grar mentioned he didn’t keep much of a garden, but he’d cleared enough of the trees that there was an area for one to the side of the cabin. He’d created storage space near the interior of the roof by laying planks from beam to beam, and he told you he could build crates or barrels to hold flour and other necessities. A rough-hewn table and chairs--two of them--were against a wall near the new fireplace, and on the opposite wall was his bed.

The bed was piled high with furs. It having an actual frame surprised you, although the size did not. He was an Orc after all, and needed the room.

He’d finished the chimney but there was still some work to be done on the hearth; the plank floor had been cut, leaving dirt, but he hadn’t laid the slate for extra protection from stray sparks. He promised he would have it done before winter actually set in.

You ran your hand over the wrought iron cooking spit. As you admired it, Grar said he’d gone back to his stronghold and had it made by a smith there; it was strong and heavy and would be functional a long time. You nodded.

Outside, he also showed you a small spring in the rocks that he’d found, so he didn’t have to go to the river everyday for water. He had built two additional outbuildings; one for storing furs, with a tanning rack outside it, and a smokehouse. There was room for chickens too, he said, if they were wanted. Looking back down the hillside, you couldn’t see any indication of your village, or of any other habitats. It was peaceful here, although you imagined when the snows came it could be lonely.

His own supply of firewood was stacked against one outer wall, and a teetering stack of dark grey slate was piled against another. You asked if you could help him lay it in the space he’d created for it. His brow furrowed and he hesitated, mentioning it wasn’t women’s work.

“Neither is chopping firewood,” you reminded him. “It’s just work that needs done.”

With a short noise that sounded like a laugh, he had to agree.

So you spent the rest of the afternoon fitting the irregular pieces of stone into position on the floor. It was fiddly work. Some were thicker or thinner than others and dirt had to be removed or added to make a level surface, and trying to puzzle them into place took time. Several hours later, however, a large majority of it was complete. Grar told you he would finish it and tamp it down so they wouldn’t come loose.

Standing up and wiping your dusty hands on your skirt, you scrutinized the progress you and he had made. Even not completely finished it looked nice, and a fire would heat the stones, keeping the cabin warmer, you told him.

When he didn’t reply, you turned to find him looking at you with an expression you couldn’t categorize instead of his new hearth. Your breath caught in your throat, and it was on the tip of your tongue to ask him what he was thinking, but before you did, he told you he’d take you to the river so you could wash off before you returned home.

With that he lead you back down the hillside. You stopped at the pool and discovered that the water was slightly warmer than you expected. You imagined it would be ice cold earlier in the year, when the waters were fed by melting snow. Crouched and dipping your hands in it, it struck you that this was exactly how you’d seen him that day, and you hurriedly splashed some water on your face to cover the redness in your cheeks.

Grar visited on a semi-regular basis as the seasons changed and late summer didn’t know if it should be autumn. No matter what your mother said, however, he never officially stated his intentions. You never admitted you’d seen him nude, although the thought of him in that state was never far from your mind’s eye. When it was difficult to think about anything else, you decided to steel yourself and be more Orcish. The next time he came round, and you had a moment of privacy walking to the stream, you confronted him.

“Are you pursuing me?”

“Pursuing you?” he asked in return. “This is the easiest hunt I’ve ever been on, if that was the case.”

Any jokes or teases from him, you’d learned, were dry. You weren’t put off, however.

“Are you courting me?”

Your insistence sobered him. While looking directly at you, Grar admitted the truth.

“I am.”

The butterflies in your stomach lurched and you felt instantly flushed. In your stunned, exhilarated silence, he continued,

“Or I would be, if . . .”

The immediate sweet feeling you’d gotten became nausea. That was even harder to process, and your tongue was dry as you forced yourself to ask, “If what?”

He hesitated, collecting his thoughts, and the wait was borderline intolerable.

Finally, he said, “I am not familiar with many human customs. If you were Orc, even from another Clan, there would be no doubt as to what I was doing, and I would be much more aggressive. You would expect me to be more aggressive! But I fear that it is the wrong approach with humans. I would seek out your father, for permission, but he is gone and I am unsure what else I may do . . .”

Your breath came quicker and you struggled to bring your emotions back under control. If Grar was unsure about what would be proper, you needed to take the next step to show him. You hadn’t had much physical contact with him, but were compelled to step closer. He smelled of leather and smoke, and an underlying hint of sweat. You realized you liked it. Although you weren’t sure if what you were doing was appropriate for a man, let alone an Orc, you carefully put a hand on his chest. It was solid and warm, even though his shirt. He looked down on you, and although it was unnoticeable visually, you could feel a slight tremble in him.

“A man might have kissed me, by now,” you whispered.

His voice dropped too. “Orcs don’t kiss.”

“They don’t?”

“No,” Grar said, and brought a hand up to indicate his tusks.

“Oh,” you replied. You didn’t move away. “Then, I guess . . . I guess I’ll have to kiss you--”

The hand that rested on his chest went over his shoulder, and you pulled him downward to your level. His nostrils flared and his eyes were bright with concern but he was malleable. You tilted your head and kissed him gently on the jaw. You felt it tighten under the caress of your lips, as if he was gritting his teeth, but you did it again before releasing him.

His eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell with deeper breaths. When he opened his eyes again, they were dark with arousal, and he finally took your waist. Feeling giddy, you laughed.

“Let me show you what Orcs do instead of kiss,” Grar said in a low rumble.

You agreed eagerly.

Leaning close so that if he put all his weight forward you would topple and be trapped under him, Grar carefully nuzzled into your hair. He breathed deeply, which tickled your ear, then drew his face downward against you. You felt his heavy jaw and tusks against your hair and down to the tender skin of your neck. After he reached your shoulder, he repeated the movement.

It occurred to you that downward was gentle, while if he gave an upward motion, his tusks could gouge and rip. You could understand the amount of trust it took to allow an Orc to put their tusks on you.

Your arm that wasn’t trapped between the two of you came up and around to hold his head close before he could step away. The two of you stood in the embrace for a moment. You thought your heart might burst from happiness.

The next time he saw you, Grar presented a small black knife to you. His hand dwarfed it; it was even small enough to be hidden in your hand. If you turned it just the right way, flashes of faint blue could be seen deep in the decorative runes etched into the blade. It was exquisitely sharp, and came with a thin leather sheath and a cord to wear it around your neck. Grar told you it was an honor blade, his troth to you as his intention to be your husband.

With the agreement between the two of you set, he accompanied you into the forest while you foraged, and although he didn’t help with actual collection of plants, he made sure you were safe as you did. He did agree to help harvest apples, and together you brought home two bushels to store.

On a few occasions you walked the village road with him. Your neighbors were respectful, although you could feel their eyes on your back as you passed them. You knew you were a source of gossip, but were surprised to realize you didn’t care. It was better to be with him than to worry about what they thought.

Grar told you that it was traditional for Orcs to announce their betrothals during the large Clan gathering after the spring thaw. That gave you plenty of time to decide whether or not you’d take him as a husband, he told you; after all, he’d not proven himself as a good provider yet!

You disagreed with that assessment, but if his expectations were to have an excellent hunting season to show you his worth, that was fine. You didn’t know what you were going to do about your mother’s living situation anyway, if you moved to Grar’s cabin further away.

Fall finally became true winter. The season meant Grar was busy with hunting and trapping and didn’t visit regularly. Each time you brought in armfuls of the wood you and he had chopped to keep the fire blazing, you were reminded of him. Missing him left an ache inside you, but you had little time to dwell on it while helping your mother prepare tisanes and salves for people who caught cold or other illnesses.

Then the unthinkable happened.

Two months after you’d last seen him, in the deepest part of winter, Grar knocked on the door to your hut.

He was covered head to toe with heavy furs for protection from the weather. You held the door open widely for him to come in, and for the first time, he entered your hut. The space seemed smaller and more cramped with him in it. Because he took up so much room, he didn’t take off much of his outerwear.

“I wanted to make sure you still had enough firewood,” he said. “The snows have been worse this year than last.”

“I missed you too,” you replied, with a slight smile.

He blinked, and smiled in return. “I also brought some venison. I know you put aside food, but I wanted to make sure you weren’t hungry.”

“Providing for me?” you teased a little.

Grar wasn’t offended. “Yes. To prove myself to you. You and your mother.”

For the first time since ducking through the door, he looked over the interior of the hut instead of looking at you.

“Where is your mother?” he asked.

“She . . . she . . .” you started, before the words caught in your throat. It took you several moments before you could choke out the rest. “She passed away. She got sick, and it took her quickly.”

You weren’t familiar with Orc traditions and thoughts on death, but it didn’t surprise you Grar didn’t offer the standard condolences that you’d become tired of from the people in the village. They’d helped bury her and pile stones atop her grave as any neighbors would. They told you she would be missed. But you knew it was more her healing arts that would be, not the woman herself. Once the formalities were done, you were alone in a tiny hut in the middle of winter.

Instead of telling you any of the inane things people felt compelled to repeat, he simply gazed around the room again. His eyes fell on her herbs and bottles, and a mostly finished woolen blanket she had been working on.

“How much can you carry?” he asked.

Your brow furrowed. “I don’t understand?”

Patiently, he said, “How much can you carry, or should I take it all? Your dresses, any supplies, food, everything you need--”

“Grar?” you asked, still confused.

“--to come live with me,” he concluded. “I am ready for you. Are you ready for me?”

It was sudden, moving in with him. Wasn’t it? You hadn’t given a final answer as to whether or not you’d accept him as a husband. But you had nothing holding you here. You were just a woman living without kin in a tiny village. Grar at least wanted you with him.

“There isn’t much,” you finally said. “I can carry most of it.”

The Orc’s expression softened. “It’s a man’s work, carrying a load through the snow.”

“It’s just work,” you disagreed lightly, with a faint smile.

Grar actually laughed at your answer. You gathered what you thought was essential and bundled up. He tamped out the fire, and led the way through the snow through the forest you were familiar with, up the hillside, away from the village and everything you had known, to take you to his cabin.

tbc . . .

#writing #orc #orc boyfriend #exophilia #monster lover

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monsters-demons-and-ai-oh-my · 5 years

Text

What We Lost and What We Have:

Chapter 6: Sock puppets, stomachaches, and what you really learn in college

In which we meet a very strange nurse, talk about teen drug use and the plot thickens.

TW: Conversations about recreational drugs, questions about suicidal intentions, and brief mention of throwing up

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AU somewhat inspired by Episode 2x20 - What Is and What Should Never Be, and the season 14 storyline concerning Jack’s illness.

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AO3 Link

Previous Chapter

First Chapter

Complete Tumblr Chapter List

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Sam and Dean both decided to give the Kline’s a little space after after the incident with Jack’s lunch tray. Ironically both brothers using the excuse that they hadn’t had anything to eat since they arrived early that morning.

Jack seemed on the verge of mortified tears afterward and for selfish reasons or not neither wanted to be the one to push him over the edge.

The kid was already embarrassed enough.

The doctor had told the brothers (much to Dean’s chagrin) that at least one of them should come back in later that evening as they had a few more background questions for all of them once Jack had a chance to rest.

There was only so much the doctor was willing to do when they still didn’t know what was causing Jack’s symptoms but when Jack’s nausea refused to fade and several more bouts dry heaving literally drove Jack to tears they finally gave him anti-nausea drugs that had the added benefit of finally putting him back to sleep.

Getting a few hours of rest (plus something new the doctor gave him via IV to help with the fact he hadn’t eaten for a day and a half) seemed to perk Jack up a bit. At the very least Jack seemed a lot more calm when he woke up around three hours later.

Though, that could have also been the low dose of narcotic painkillers doctor Hannah also decided to give despite the risks when Jack’s stomach pain was bad enough to cause his heart rate to skyrocket.

It wasn’t enough narcotics to make Jack start accusing innocent staff members of being out to suck his blood again, but it was enough to render him quiet and subdued… and not at all like the Jack Castiel knew.

‘He could only watch and try to comfort Jack as he got sick and then hugged his stomach, literally crying with the pain the action caused him…’

A quiet Jack was better than a sobbing Jack, but it still terrified Cas.

It threw him back to sixteen years previously when Jack was first born, made him feel like he was failing Kelly all over again…

He remembered when Jack was four and a half and afraid of long clawed demons under his bed. ( strangely specific child that he was ) Then Castiel could consol him and promise to protect him from any monsters .

When Jack was seven and John died and Jack tried to run away from home, ( only getting so far as the neighbor down the street who lured him in with cookies and called Castiel ) he’d been able to reassure the traumatized boy that his parents and the people around him didn’t die because he was close to them.

“...you’re not cursed Jack, I promise… and I’m not planning on leaving you alone any time soon.”

But this…

Castiel couldn’t promise everything would be okay, he didn’t know how to fix this, he didn’t even know what this was…

Every little twitch Jack gave in his sleep, every harsh intake of breath was like an electric jolt to Cas’s heart, terrifying him that Jack would start seizing again.

By the time that Jack was awake again and Cas was able to call the Winchester’s back in he was thirty-six hours without sleep and felt on the verge of a mental breakdown.

“Med student party here yet?” Cas heard the now unfortunately familiar voice of Dean Winchester over his shoulder.

“No…” Cas said dully, hand tightening over Jack’s as he broke into another fit of harsh wheezy coughs.

‘The antibiotics either weren’t helping the pneumonia or were taking far too long to kick in for comfort.’

“I...I don’t really feel up to p-party,” Jack muttered with a tiny wry smile.

“You feeling any better buddy?” Sam’s voice was a little more tolerable.

“They gave me more drugs?” Jack said bluntly, perhaps the amount of pain meds he was given was still enough to make the teenager a more aloof if not completely loopy.

As scared as Jack must be Cas didn’t have it in him for him to be upset with Jack being a little… high, as it were.

‘Anything to keep away the horrible tears of pain.’

“They’re waiting for me to let them know you’re here…” Cas explained quickly to the brothers reaching for the nurse call button and using the moment to compose himself.

“I thought we were done with all the questions?” Dean sighed pacing by the window like nervous rather unimpressive tomcat not looking at anyone.

“Well apparently they didn’t get what they needed last time.” Cas tried not to think that more questions meant the doctors were at a loss with what answers they did get.

“It probably had something to do with you ‘scaring the crap’ out of the person who was recording them…” Cas glared choosing to believe that instead.

Dean’s eyes narrowed for a moment and he opened his mouth as if to say something scathing but Sam surprised Castiel by speaking up.

“Well whatever the reason pointing fingers won’t help anyone,” Sam said taking Dean’s old spot by the far end of the bed. It seemed like while Sam was rendered relatively unable to function when it came to Jack that same reservations did not stand for confronting his argumentative older brother or Castiel.

“So how about this time we all sit down, and shut up, and get this over with and then neither of you will have to see each other again if you don’t want to…” Sam said with an air of aggressive calm, folded his hands in his lap.

Jack eyes seemed to dart between each one of them tense and nervous, clutching at the sheets without a word.

Castiel felt a pang of guilt in his chest.

He and Dean took their seats… quietly.

They sat awkwardly like two children who’d just been chewed out by the principal until the silence was broken by a knock on the door.

Well… a series of knocks… to the tune of… Yankee Doodle?

Jack’s eyes darted between his uncle and the door like he wasn’t sure if he actually heard what he thought he heard or if the drugs were just kicking in.

“Come in?” Castiel said hesitantly.

The door opened and in stepped not the nervous med student, but another more suspicious looking individual.

Another… nurse?

“Hello,” said the strange skinny man in seemingly oversized giraffe print scrubs. He had a smile about as appropriate for the tense atmosphere as sunbather in a snowstorm, “My name is Garth but you can call me nurse Fitzgerald and I’m here to help Jack and you all with a patient history today.”

Dean shot Sam a confused look that was ignored.

“What happened to the other g-guy?” Jack hacked into the back of his hand, looking wary of having yet another stranger in his room.

"Well, Kevin was having a bit of a hard time, so the head nurse wanted someone with a bit more experience to finish it,” Nurse Fitz-… Garth shrugged the left sleeve of his scrubs dangerously close to sliding off his narrow shoulder, “they send me in when things get a little hinky,"

"Hinky?" Castiel's eyebrows rose.

"Well I say hinky," Garth smiled, "I think it's a much nicer word than the one nurse Master's used... that I won't use in front of a child.

The child in the room looked mildly offended.

"Or what was written on the chart," he picked up Jack’s chart clipboard off the end of the bed and flicked it significantly, “which is… ''disorderly"."

Dean scoffed, "Please, we weren't "disorderly”,” he drew quotation marks in the air.

The strange skinny man just continued to smile shrugging, "okay well you made poor Kevin cry in the on-call room so I wouldn't exactly call that "functional behavior"."

Dean’s mouth opened looking defensive but for a second time the words were lost behind an interruption.

“Sorry…” Jack said quietly, clearing his throat, “they… they mean well… I think…”

“We should… probably apologize to this Kevin though…” Castiel said sheepishly.

“Probably…” Dean muttered noncommittally refusing to look at Castiel.

“What’s that?” Sam spoke up suddenly sounding confused, everyone turning to see at what he pointing at.

I appeared to be a strange looking… sock with lips? hanging of Nurse Garth’s scrubs pocket.

“Oh him?” the nurse pulled the object out his pocket smiling at it fondly before slipping it over one hand, “This… is Mr. Fizzles.”

He opened and closed the sock puppet’s mouth in Jack’s general direction as the boy looked on warily pressed against his pillows.

“A lot of kids find a friend easier to talk to than a stranger, especially when in a big scary place like the hospital.”

He looked at Jack expectantly.

“I...I think I’ll pass…” the teenager said turning a little pink.

Garth seemed mildly disappointed but shrugged and surreptitiously tucked the sock back in his pocket picking back up the chart.

“Well Kevin’s handwriting started getting illegible at… drugs…” he looked up expectantly at Castiel’s affronted face.

“He had a tablet of ibuprofen about seven hours before the seizure and then a second four hours later, but no Jack does not do drugs,” Castiel said flatly.

“I think… he was asking Jack…” Sam said carefully watching Jack who was refusing to look back, scratching at the adhesive over the line in his arm.

“I don’t… do drugs…” Jack said quietly.

Castiel gave nurse Garth a satisfied “see” look.

“But there was… this one time,” Jack coughed sheepishly.

Everyone was suddenly staring at Jack who seemed to be trying to disappear into his hospital mattress.

“Jack…” Cas’s heart sunk more disappointed than angry, he didn’t have a chance to ask why before Jack cut him off seeming desperate to explain.

“It… it was just one time… Noah offered me a hit?” his eyebrows drew together and he looked unsure at the terminology, “of a joint he had?”

Dean gave an impressive little huff earning him a dirty look from Cas.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t go to college…” Dean shrugged, shooting Sam a knowing smile he refused to return.

“It was just the one time though!” Jack said quickly looking at Cas pleadingly, “It was really, really gross and… and I never did it again!”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” Castiel asked exasperated, trying not to show Sam or Dean how hurt he was. What made it worse was he knew how stereotypical it was for a parent to think their teenager would never lie to them. Half the parent teacher conferences he had to call at the high school were dealing with people under such delusions.

“I… I didn’t want to get Noah in trouble…” Jack mumbled biting his lip and refusing to look Cas in the eye.

“Noah?” Castiel mentally ran over his shortlist of acquaintances Jack talked about and came up empty. “Wait… Noah Ophis?” Castiel felt completely at a loss when Jack’s blush seemed to confirm it, “Jack… wasn’t Noah the one who locked you in the school gym’s weight room and then stuck gum in the lock so we had to call maintenance to disassemble the door to get you out?”

“It… was never confirmed…” Jack muttered turning brighter red glancing back between his older brothers as if expecting them to laugh.

“How long ago did you ‘get silly with Mary Jane’?” Garth broke in on the tense moment seeming unbothered.

Jack looked extremely confused for a long moment, “Six… months ago?”

Garth wrote that down, “well it’s probably not that then, the devil’s lettuce only lasts like… a few hours, unless you snort it that’s worse...”

Castiel really did not believe that was an actual way people consumed marajauna… he had gone to college after all.

Cas suppressed the need to start in on a long speech about peer pressure, lying, and the dangers of underage recreational drug use (especially when you didn’t know the source), but now was not the time, not now with as Jack as sick as he was. He would be taking advantage of a secret Jack only willingly told because he was scared for his own safety, and Jack’s health might rely on him being honest with his doctors.

Though Cas was relieved when the next question was, just “Do you have any animal friends?”

He felt his confidence as a surrogate parent had taken enough of a hit for the moment.

“Well… I have Felix… but I don’t know if he thinks of me as a friend, I’ve read their brains can’t really process that sort of thing?” Jack’s eyebrows furrowed in thought.

Sam’s eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline.

Maybe the drugs had a stronger effect on Jack than Castiel first realized.

“What is Felix?” Sam looked completely at a loss.

Jack blinked, “A corn snake,” he said like it should be obvious.

Dean seemed to recoil slightly and then snorted, a very, “of course I’m going to judge the character of a kid I don’t know based on the fact he keeps a snake…” noise.

That was a big mistake… Castiel knew Jack was fairly shy but he’d been on the wrong end of one of Jack’s, “I must defend the honor of snakes everywhere,” speeches before when the Jack was first trying to convince his uncle to let him keep Felix.

“Felix is really great!” he insisted, probably louder than he should have judging by the short fit of coughs that followed. He cleared his throat before croaking, “N-not only do corn snakes eat d-disease carrying pests, they're really gentle, and they’re easy to breed in captivity, and they’re from the US so they... they don’t c-contribute to the… the e-exotic pet trade…”

Castiel remembered vividly Jack showing up in his classroom clutching a shoe box the day before winter break, nervous but determined. He’d gone into a spiel about how a boy had brought the snake to the lunch room to show it off but the boy was planning to kill it at the end of the day with a rock because he thought it was ‘kinder’.

“He said he couldn’t get it to eat, but! he only tried one thing and... and you can’t let him do that, he doesn’t deserve that…”

He’d practically begged Castiel to let him keep the snake, “even if it was just for a little while,” and then spent the next week researching and trying to feed it different things, bringing everything from bags of frozen mice to eggs and minnow into the house before he’d had success.

Cas remembered the huge grin on Jack’s face when he finally succeeded heard him whisper, “see you’re going to be okay now,” into Felix’s enclosure when he thought his uncle wasn’t watching.

Jack dissolved into another fit of coughing near the end of his snake rant, doubling up as Castiel laid a worried hand on his shoulder.

“Fine fine kid jeez…” Dean raised his hands in mock surrender, looking mildly alarmed, “I believe you, don’t lose a lung over it…”

“Snakes are great you’re just a mean,” Jack muttered breathily with one laugh hacking cough, sinking wearily back in his bed. The short bout of passion seemed to have taken a lot out of him.

“I don’t really like snakes, I’m sure they’re great but the way they look at me makes me nervous y'know?” Nurse Garth Gave a shiver, no one knew what he meant. “Also they can carry salmonella…”

The nurse spent the next half hour asking more questions of various degrees of embarrassment. Each answer the brother’s gave grew increasingly bored and each answer Jack gave getting softer as he grew increasingly drowsy.

Any energy Jack gained by resting seemed to run out of him like water through a sieve and soon he had fallen back asleep. Castiel knew seizures could take a lot out of a person but this? This felt different. He breathed deeply to calm himself down, told himself he never finished nursing school, let alone medical school like the doctor’s taking care of Jack.

‘He was in good hands…’

He carefully straightened Jack’s blankets, trying not to listen to the wheezy quality of Jack’s breathing even in sleep.

“Did you get all the answers you needed?” Castiel asked quietly, not wanting to interrupt and of the sleep the boy managed to get.

The nurse smiled looking a little too pleased with himself, “yup just about the entire thing, I don’t know what Kevin was upset about you all seem like very nice people.”

Dean looked up mildly guilt pulling his hand back from where he’d been trying to fish the sock puppet out of Garth’s pocket, while Sam hid his face in his hands. “Yeah… um… so it’s fine for us to take off now?”

‘Of course…’

Garth nodded satisfied, “yeah, visiting hours for everyone but parents are ending soon, and the kid looks like he’s had all the fun he can handle for today.”

Castiel just nodded in agreement trying not to seem to eager carefully fixing Jack’s mussed up hair, “I think he’s had enough of strangers for now…”

That was enough for Dean who left with one last indignant puff of air but Sam stayed back for a moment tettering as was his custom in the doorway.

“Call if something changes?” he asked, like he was half unsure he should say the words.

Cas offered a tight smile, “sure…”

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

Sam and Dean left for their home and hotel respectively the nurse leaving soon after to give Castiel and more importantly Jack some time to rest.

The nurses mostly let Jack be through the evening only coming in once or twice to record his vitals and give him more of the drugs the doctor prescribed earlier, Jack thankfully remained asleep during the visits.

He seemed mostly stable much to Cas’s relief though that could have just been due to the pain and nausea meds masking the worst of his symptoms. It wasn’t until Jack reached a full twenty-four hours without another seizure that Castiel finally let himself relax.

It wasn’t until much later, half past midnight that the doctor came in again.

Castiel had finally fallen asleep in a recliner chair one of the nurses graciously brought in when they realized he was staying with Jack for another night..

‘They’d explained it was standard practice for when a parent stayed with their child on the ward…’

He’d been woken rather unceremonious by doctor Hannah pulling a cumbersome looking machine into Jack’s room.

“What’s… What’s going on?” he asked dumbly rubbing at his face, the confusion quickly turning to alarm when he saw the look on the doctor’s face.

Her face was mostly calm, but her eyebrows were furrowed and her mouth was pressed in a thin tense line.

“I… need you to wake up Jack…” she said something worrying in her calm voice Castiel couldn’t quite identify.

Castiel immediately began to panic head snapping up to the monitor of Jack’s vitals. Everything seemed the same, except the fever which had risen to an even hundred degrees.

“Is… What’s wrong?” He asked in as hushed a tone as he could manage.

The doctor gave him a reassuring smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“I just need to check something…” she said unhelpfully.

Castiel tried to breathe evenly and remain calm as he gently shook Jack’s shoulder.

‘What was so bad you’d wake a sick kid in the middle of the night?’

He gently shook Jack’s shoulder, calling his name, Jack barely moved, his eyes twitched and he let out a soft cough.

Castiel frowned shaking his shoulder a little more forcefully eliciting an unhappy groan from Jack as he rolled away as far as the tubing on his face would allow him.

‘At least it was confirmation he wasn’t comatose or something…’

“The painkillers he’s on can have a sedative effect,” she frowned, “it’s always best to try to wake someone up naturally but I did bring something if that doesn’t work.

She produced a set of keys from her pocket to unlock the set of rolling drawers the machine she brought was propped on top of.

“Wait,” Castiel quickly held up a hand, “there’s one thing I haven’t tried yet…” he leant down close to Jack’s ear, “Jack… come on you have to get up… we’re going to be late to school…”

Jack tensed up and groaned, “I… I don’t want to, I don’t feel good…” he grumbled face screwing up.

Cas huffed a sad laugh, gently ruffling his hair to keep him from falling back out, “I know Jack, but you still need to wake up.”

Jack finally blinked woefully up at him, “you said I didn’t have to go…” His croaked eyes wandered towards the window as he coughed to clear his throat, “it’s still dark out…” he muttered bewildered.

“I know, I know… you don’t have to go to school, you can go back to sleep... in a little bit?” Cas looked back toward the doctor who offered him another thin smile, neither confirming or denying.

“But doctor Hannah she needs to talk to us… for now, alright?” Castiel said still gently squeezing his shoulder...

Jack just blinked and nodded trustingly too tired to question it.

Doctor Hannah ducked down to his level whispering, “I’m going to turn on the lights now and I need you to roll on your side like before okay?”

Jack looked wary breath speeding up, “P-please don’t stick another needle in my back…”

“It’s okay Jack, I promise I’m not going to do that honey,” she said gently flipping on a switch and making everyone in the room wincing at the sudden brightness, “I just need to run an ultrasound on your back and abdomen…”

Jack looked even more confused, face morphing into mildly suspicion, “But… I can’t have babies?”

Doctor Hannah actually chucked, “No that’s not all we use ultrasound for, and that’s not what I’m looking for…”

“What are you looking for?” Castiel couldn’t hold himself back from asking, fidgeting in the recliner.

The doctor’s face dropped a little before she could stop it, “I’ll let you know if I see it, I… I don’t want to alarm you,”

Her eyes drifted back to Jack with an unspoken, ‘or him’ .

Jack’s eyebrows furrowed but he still did as he was told and the doctor guided him onto his side before pulling down the blanket to his waist and undoing the ties on the upper half of his hospital gown while he blushed pink.

When she carefully began to probed Jack’s back it became abundantly clear the medication didn’t completely numb his pain.

He barely held back a cry of pain between clenched teeth, reducing it to a strained groan, his whole body shaking.

Castiel reach for his hand which was clenched around the bed sheets. “It’s okay Jack… I’m here.”

“Th-that… that really hurts,” Jack mumbled tearfully.

“I know Jack I know…” the doctor said seemingly lost in thought

doing her best to move quickly through prep procedures for the ultrasound. Applying a plastic cover over the wand and spreading clear gel on a portion of his back.

Jack looked like he was trying not to scream when the doctor finally pressed the ultrasound wand into his back, teeth gritted together heart rate spiking.

The doctor’s eyes were fixed on the ultrasound screen beside the bed looking grim and Castiel wished not for the first time that he’d finished his degree so he’d know what she saw.

‘All he could do was hold Jack’s hand.’

“Shit…” he barely heard the doctor mutter as she set aside the wand and gingerly wiped away the gel on Jack’s back.

There were already already tears welling in Jack’s eyes when she had him turn back onto his back.

The doctor promised to be as quick and gentle as she could as she repeated the process with the upper part of Jack’s abdomen.

Jack was shaking and crying silently by the time it was over, and the doctor was if anything quieter.Terrifyingly lost in thought.

Castiel carefully helped him back into his gown, telling him softly that he did well and could go back to sleep soon.

Jack watched the doctor red eyed and wary gripping the blankets a little too tightly even as he wilted exhausted back against the bed.

The doctor waited until the teenager seemed to have calmed back down before speaking.

“Jack… I’m going to ask your uncle and you some questions and I need you to be as honest as possible, alright?”

The tone of doctor Hannah’s voice set off the already ringing alarm bells in Cas’s mind to a shrieking pitch.

Jack nodded cautiously, “O-okay…” he said shakily.

The doctor began pacing at the foot of his bed hands clasping anxiously at one another.

“You said Jack had a headache a few hours before he had a seizure at the restaurant and that you gave him ibuprofen for it, are you sure it was ibuprofen and not aspirin?”

Castiel blinked, “yes I’m sure I know better than to give a child aspirin, and I even remember the brand I bought, it was Advil…”

“It’s was a blue... package,” Jack said after a moment coughing into his elbow, exhaustion, and illness fogging his brain.

The doctor nodded and resumed her pacing, “and… how much did you give him?” she asked seeming careful about her phrasing.

“A lower dose, one tablet… and then another four hours later…” Castiel said suspiciously, “what is this about?”

The doctor hesitated, “did you see Jack take them both times?”

There was a long pause as Jack looked increasingly upset, “wh-what are you tr-trying to say?”

“What are you suggesting?” Castiel knew full well what she was asking but he couldn’t believe he’d heard it.

“I…” she paused and sighed, “I have to ask it’s very important.”

Jack seemed to understand despite everything, “I...I wouldn’t, I couldn’t d-do that I…” his breathing sped up.

“The first thing Jack asked about when he woke up was school and needing to take care of his pet? Does that really strike you as someone who would try to… to…” Cas paused, “to hurt themselves?”

“I… I was upset and sad after what happened but…” Jack’s forehead wrinkled again as his breathing grew more frantic and his heart rate rose with it, “I wouldn’t, I didn’t do that…” he muttered eyes pleading and filling back up with tears, “please believe me.”

“I know Jack… I do believe you,” Castiel reassured him gently squeezing his shoulder.

A thought dawned on Cas and he reached for his coat still hanging off the back of his chair, “he really physically couldn’t…”

Castiel pulled a small half crushed blue box from the pocket of the coat, “I didn’t even buy a bottle of pills they didn’t have any in the hotel commissary they only had it in a box of packets and there were only four pills to start with…”

‘The stupid box had cost a whole ten dollars regardless.’

He handed it over for the doctor to see, “and there’s still two left…”

The doctor looked in the box then checked the date on the bottom, but instead of looking relieved like Cas expected…”

She just looked... frustrated?

“Alright… I’m sorry, we had to rule that out as a possibility…” she sighed.

The apology did nothing to placate Jack, who just stared at her distrustfully tears running silently down his cheeks hugging himself still breathing too fast.

Castiel tried to resist the anger and resentment building up in his own chest he knew the doctor was just doing her job, but it was late and the already ill and drug addled Jack was not tolerating being woken in the middle of the night to be painfully prodded, cross examined, and accused of hurting himself very well.

He placed a protective hopefully comforting hand on Jack’s shoulder, “couldn’t you have just tested for a possible overdose in the blood samples you took instead of coming in here past midnight and harassing him?”

“If the problem was being caused by taking too much ibuprofen it would be important to find out and treat as soon as possible.”

“W-why?” Jack mumbled hunching forward red-eyed and shaking his breath coming out in uncomfortably fast puffs, “what… what’s wrong with me?”

He looked how Castiel felt, on the verge of panic.

“Jack, it’s alright I need you to calm down…” the doctor said looking warily between him and the vitals reading on the monitor.

‘That didn’t calm him down.’

“You… you don’t know d-do you?” Jack sobbed continuing to hyperventilate, heart beating about a mile a minute on the monitors, “y-you don’t…” he coughed, the developing panic attack not helping his already labored breathing, coughing soon turning to wheezing.

Castiel’s mouth became a thin anxious line as he wrapped a supportive arm around his shoulders.

“Jack?”

The doctor moved quickly back over to the locked set of drawers retrieving a vial and injecting something into Jack’s IV line, “it’s alright it’s okay… just try to breathe deeply Jack…”

Jack tried, leaning on his uncle tears running down his face even when his breathing slowed and he relaxed as whatever drug the doctor gave him took effect.

The doctor and Castiel gently helped him lean back into his pillows as his eyes blinked blearily, “it’s alright… just rest now… you’re alright…”

She didn’t look like even she believed what she was saying as he drifted quickly back into unconsciousness the rise and fall of his chest slowly evening back out.

Castiel felt as if a live wire was clenched between his teeth.

“What happening to Jack?” he managed an impossibly calm tone.

The doctor sighed taking a moment to steal herself before answering. “Most of the tests we have back so far… they came back inconclusive… There was no sign of meningitis or encephalitis in his spinal fluid, no… conclusive signs of infection in his blood at all…”

“But,” Castiel said feeling miles away.

“But… between the blood taken when he was first admitted and a few hours ago, we’ve found a significant increase in his liver enzymes and protein levels and if… they don’t improve in the next few hours I want to look at transferring him to Kansas University hospital…”

Castiel felt like the ground was dropping from beneath him, “and… the pain, what you were testing for just now that was…”

The doctor paused for an even longer moment before answering, “Jack’s liver and kidneys… are showing signs of inflammation… and the blood tests results are signs they’re starting to lose function…”

‘Failing… she meant they were beginning to fail’

“And you don’t know why…” Castiel mumbled numbly.

The doctor said nothing...

Notes:

Dun dun dun, and the plot thickens, hopefully the introduction of nurse Garth managed to lighten things up a bit before the darker second half and reveal.

If you enjoyed this chapter and have the time and/or inclination please let me know what you thought :)

#SPN #Supernatural #Castiel #Jack Kline #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #fanfiction #whump #humor #illness #family drama #garth fitzgerald iv #Hannah #TW drugs #TW vomit mention #only accusations of not an actual attempt of overdose #kylermalloy

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