#WAIT UNTIL YOU MEET ABNER

[hearteyedbunny]

thabner but make it weird (talking about blood, knives, slight gore)

thatcher keeps having periodic dreams where Abner is cutting him open. so sweetly, so intimately. they smear his blood around, they taste his wounds, stick their fingers in, they look gorgeous and ethereal covered in his mess, dark and red and animalistic as they kiss him. it's gross, disgusting, intimate. it's closer than thatcher's ever been with anyone, his insides meeting the outside as he intertwines with Abner, the two of them becoming one...

thatcher never fights them in these dreams, only lets it happen, and is grateful for it. he thinks he'd let them eat him whole, if they wanted to. maybe they will, in the next one.

sometimes, often, roles are reversed, with thatcher being the aggressor, tearing Abner open and seeing their celestial blood shimmer in the light. it's always beautiful. it always tastes so intoxicating, he can't help but sink his fingers into their flesh, his hands and lips and teeth tainted red. he wonders what color it actually is. he wonders ...

the dreams where he's in charge always wake him and leave him aching, more than usual. in a daze. something about taking charge like that, sinking his teeth into Abner, tasting them, feeling them, hearing them groan and writhe in pain and ecstasy... it's a lot. its dizzying. it scares him, it makes his heart pound. it makes his hands shake. it fuels his fantasies, when he's alone.

he never tells Abner about them, until one day he does.

"I've been having dreams...where I'm covered in your blood."

"Huh, fucked up. Did you like it?"

"...yes"

Abner laughs, finding it strange. but they like strange. they prod at Thatcher further, as they always do. he's hesitant, afraid. hes not a violent person, he'd never want to hurt anyone, especially abner, but the memories make his brain buzz, lighting up some locked away part of him that he never bothered, or was too scared to open before.

"Do you bleed red?" he asks, embarrassed. but he wants to know. "I mean...what color is it?"

"Wanna see?"

Their response surprises Thatcher. Excites him, much more than it should. he's squeamish, why does he want this so bad? he says yes, despite not knowing what the offer entails. his curiosity gets the better of him, among other feelings.

Abner finds a knife in the kitchen. They're quick about it, sliding it across their palm and only flinching a little. they've felt much worse pain. Thatcher is alarmed by the quickness, the casualty of it, but hes soon distracted by what abner holds up to him.

their blood is gold. he doesnt know what color he expected, but not gold, beautiful and sparkling as it hits the open air, running down their palm, down their wrist.

thatcher has the overwhelming desire, the primal urge to lick up the drops trickling down abner's skin, to sink his teeth gently into the waiting flesh, laid bare and held up for him. he doesnt know why. he doesnt understand why every aspect of abner is so mesmerizing to him. even this. even this.

he doesn't though. he at least has enough self control for that. he wished he didnt.

"Even your blood is beautiful" he blurts out anyways.

"Of course you would say that" abner laughs again, the wound already beginning to close up as they speak. they put their hand away. "Feel better, freak?"

"I think so" the insult is expected, so it doesnt hurt. he doesnt feel better, he wants more and more and more, but he satiates his need for now, despite how badly he wants to tear them apart.

maybe later, when hes alone with his hands.

[it-s-gone-blue]

I'm sending you a ship too and it's FiNer! c:

Yeeee  >:D Thank you for the ask! @greywardenfinas

Universe w vampire Finas and hunter Abner, also poly!Casfin, as canon-y i can imagine it. (But we're p far from canon w FiNer but just go w it)

Who said “I love you” first

Abner, actually. Finas would be absoultely fine, if quietly a little disappointed, if they were in a sorta steady relationship and it never was said. He wouldn't say it, afraid it'd make Abner freak out abt the whole vampire hunter and a vampire thing, make him realize how badly he's doing the 'kill all vampires' thing and end it. Finas just wants it to last longer bc he enjoys Abner, bc hedonist. 

Abner knows he's doing badly, but Finas made himself the exception to the rule (and begrudgingly casimiro, as long as he doesn't see him actively murder someone.)

Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background

Casimiro took Finas' phone. Took a candid picture of Abner and set it as his background. Finas is like, Cas, stop messing w my stuff? but he doesnt change it. Casimiro loves making jabs at Finas being a sap, whether it's abt him or Abner.

Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror

Neither, really. But there's a little whiteboard on Abner's fridge for Caring Reminders. "Eat food not just coffee." "Remember to use sunscreen"

Who buys the other cheesy gifts

Finas has no qualms abt giving away gifts. You get a gift, you get a gift, YOU get a gift. Just what he does when he likes someone. He doesn't like that many people, so they end up getting a lot of gifts. It's a bit more of a deal for Abner, he'd probably ask Finas to stop giving him gifts so often, or at least cheaper ones.

Who initiated the first kiss

Finas. They were both in this state of 'should i? i shouldn't. but i should. but not. yes. no.' but Abner was SO DEEP in that, so when Finas leaned in he was kinda stuck in the headlights, but he initiated the second one just after that one. If it was gonna happen, it'd have to be Finas, bc Abner wouldn't be able to make up his mind.

Who kisses the other awake in the morning

Abner is absolutely miserable waking up, doesn't wanna do it. He's going to, but he doesn't have to be happy about it. Finas turns off his alarm before it goes off and wakes him up w slow kisses on his cheeks or forehead. He's less miserable then.  

Who starts tickle fights

How dare? They are entirely respectable gentlemen. They don't tickle fight. They also both have stiff muscles in their backs and shoulders from activities and not stretching enough before working out so they occasionally massages the other to work out the knots. If they happen to find a ticklish area so be it.  There's just a knot there sit still I gotta loose this knot in your side I swear STOP RUNNING it's for your benefit

Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower

Abner asks Finas if he wants to join him, he's just abt to shower and Finas' gonna shower after him, he could just shower w him. be time efficient. cough. totes.

Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch

Finas would drop by Abner's workplace in the evening once it got dark w a thermos of coffee. He's tried cooking exactly one time in the last century, and they got food poisoning. But he makes a mean coffee after a while.

Who was nervous and shy on the first date

Both were nervous but it didn't look like it. Finas has mastery in composure, Abner makes all the effort to seem Xtremely Collected. Unless either got flustered it wouldn't show. (Abner was easily flustered. Finas thought it was endearing)

Who kills/takes out the spiders

Abner kills them, then checks for more. Finas throws them out if it's not too much effort. Otherwise he also kills them.

Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk

So one time Finas got drunk with Cas and went. 

You know who's great? While looking all in awe at Cas and also taking his handWho is great? Casimiro is already grinning and feeling the love. Abner is great. He said he loved me. Casimiro's face just falls like. Ok. I guess. But I'm pretty great too right? Abner is great Casimiro calls Abner up and let's him listen in on the Abner appreciation hour. Mostly to embarrass them bc drunk smitten Finas is hilarious. Finas takes the phone and goes Abner you're so good looking and I've had a little to drink ah Cas he said I'm good looking too !!! And then it's like. Finas you know I'm thrilled abt you getting a life and all but I'd appreciate if you didn't try to fuck me while talking abt Abner

Finas has five hangovers.

Also. Abner sometimes drinks to cope with, yanno, anxieties and being hypervigilant and paranoia abt diseases and vampires, and if Finas happens to be around him at that time he doesn't really loudly proclaim his love as much as quietly acknowledge and affirm it's there. Says he doesn't care he feels like a failed hunter sometimes bc he's worth it, which makes Finas' heart ache a lot.

[renhaswritersblock]

hello!! could you do w, i, and o for abner on the nsfw alphabet? i am so desperate for content abt him lmao 😭😭 thank u for still writing him

Abner Krill (Polka-dot-man) - NSFW Request (I, O, W)

Me: Oh boy, Abner! I’ve always been wanting to write something about this colorful dancing king queen since I watched TSS. This is going to be fun!

[Two/half months later.]

Me: *Staring intently at a bulletin board covered in pictures and notes with red string connecting to them, not knowing what time or day it is.*

Life [Walks in.]: Hey, uhh– friendly reminder that you still have that Government paper due tomorrow.

Me: MUTHERFU–

[Weeks later.]

Me [On the floor, defeated by the heavy mass of writer's block, reaching towards laptop to press enter.]: Finished– *Get’s crushed by an anvil of more writing tasks.*

—

A/N: I had made a Venn Diagram of Abs, Bob, and Lonny to differ the boys since they all fall under the meow meow category. So, thank you for the wait.

Ima say this takes place after the TSS movie – don’t care if he died, as James A. Janisse would maybe say, “No body, no count.” (Same with Flag. *kicks book of Necromancy For Dummies under bed*)

Warning: Usual NSFW stuff, nothing too extreme. Made some parts long (cause I do what I want). Some head cannons that totally didn’t come up to me randomly while I was halfway through finishing. No proofreading, I go down in style. Is there anything smutty in the first half? No, not really. Did I get carried away again and build a oneshot sort of story? Perhaps. Will I ever make a long smutty moment in any of the alphabet requests? Idk. Hotel? Trivago.

Leans toward female reader pov, but mostly towards gender neutral.

Anyhoo, happy readings!

===

I: Intimacy (*looks over at the letter C* Perhaps, I misjudged you.)

Abner lacks physical and emotional intimacy – and you can’t really blame him for it. Being locked up in Belle Reve and made fun of by the other inmates for so long – and to top it all off, his condition and past – he doesn’t have good social skills nor the confidence to approach someone for friendly/flirtatious banter. Even when he and his Task Force X friends go out to celebrate their new freedom at a local club, he still remains reserved and hidden. So he thought.

Throughout the night, Abner watched everyone have fun while sitting in a booth next to a large – totally not a man-eating shark – distinguish gentleman with a mustache, staring intently at a fish tank behind them. Cleo was out dancing wildly on the dance floor with a group of people, Harley sat across the room drinking with three intimidating women, and both Flag and Dubois went somewhere private to chat and drink alone. He consistently looks around the large room, scanning the neon interior and dancing occupant exotically swaying side to side, sipping his drink until his eyes land on a certain someone sitting by the bar. You.

You idly sat on one of the empty stools, swirling your drink in apathy and wearing the most eccentric, colorful outfit that made you stick out of the crowd. Abner nearly choked, spitting his drink through his nose, and erupted into a coughing fit. He didn’t notice Cleo returning to the booth, rushing to sit beside him, gently hitting his back. You were alone – in fact – you looked like you were waiting for someone, glancing at your surroundings and at your phone every minute. 

Supposedly, your date should’ve been here an hour ago. They texted you the address to this place to meet you at a time that was way past your curfew. Without a second thought, you agreed. You spend your whole evening prepping yourself to look nice. The only attire suitable for your first night out was the one that made it look like a clown puked on you. Looking around once more, you scan the room in hopes of seeing your date, not spotting Abner a few feet away staring gawkily at you, swiftly ducking his head to avoid glances.

Abner could feel his face burn red hot, he couldn’t hear Cleo’s muffled words over the sound of his heart pounding in his ear. He finally drew his attention towards Cleo when he heard her say, your glowing. Instantly, he slaps his face out of instinct to check if his glowing rash started popping up – knowing already he expelled the dots before they left. This is a first… Cleo gaped as his face began to flare up into dim hues of blue and red to green and yellow. His eyes move back to you, staring at your phone with a bleak expression. 

Honestly, you weren’t surprised when the screen showed they left you on read. You figured they would bail at the last minute, wasting half of your night to embarrass yourself. Thoughts began running through your head as you felt your chest grow heavy. I think that’s enough for one night. Holding back your tears, you took a shot of your drink and tapped the glass on the counter, going to spin your chair towards the exit when a tall man wearing what seems to be also a colorful button-up blouse blocks your way, startling you. Abner stood stiff as a board, nervously smiling at you. There was a moment of silence between you two. You watched as he glanced over and back at you, sending you mixed signals. Curious at what he was looking at, you turned and spotted two girls looking directly at you, one waving shyly, the other giving a thumbs up, and a– Wait is that a shark in disguise and a rat also waving at us?

You snap your attention back to the man in front of you, hearing him clear his throat out of discomfort before introducing himself as Abner, reaching his hand out towards you. To your dismay, you mindlessly took his hand, shaking it while telling him your name. Abner’s heart flutters at the sight of you smiling softly at him. You catch a glimpse of his cheeks glowing strangely, thinking it could be the lighting in the room. He takes a seat next to you, mumbling if he can buy you a drink, his smile widening when you accept the offer.

Shortly after your second drink, you hit it off pretty quickly, talking about certain things the two of you like, such as movies, and him introducing you to the group – keeping a very close eye on Nana– Bob doesn’t do anything to you. 

Soon you two were on the dance floor, swaying and bobbing your heads to the music, and before you knew it, you were face-to-face. Abner remembered sharing a long gaze with you, feeling as if time suddenly froze. He felt his cheeks boil achingly, noticing your expression contort into a bewildered look. Random patches of colorful glowing dots appeared and disappeared on his face. His eyes seemed to change color, following the primitive colors. 

Although you admired the way he looked, Abner on the other hand took it as a sign of being repulsed, causing something to trigger in his mind. But before he could let the imagery into his head, he hears you call out his name, slowly approaching him. You ask if you could hold his hand, reaching out for it when he accepts. You both stood in the middle for a while, only listening to the music playing on the speakers. Once he felt himself subside, he pulls towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist. You did the same, putting your arms around his neck, whispering reassuring words. He burrows his face into your shoulder, embracing the unknown feeling in his chest as his face emits a dim glow once again.

O: Oral 

*Abner: Clitoris?! Labia Majora?! Damn girl, how many pussies you got?!*

Abs is ok with giving oral to his partner. He’s a lil’ confuse at first, but he got spirit. He isn’t on the top 3, but somewhere around maybe 4-5. Krill prefers to use his hands to stimulate you than his mouth – since he can be flamboyant. It’s also a way for him to be slightly dominant and in control, edging you as soon as you near climaxing. 

When receiving oral from you, he melts into a whimpering puddle – he’s squirmish and restless at times, but only because you keep teasing his tip and shaft for revenge. To him, the sensation never gets old.

W: Wild Card (*cracks knuckles*)

*inhales*

Liiiiisten.

There’s a hc I have for this guy, but I prefer not to say what it is since it’s quite…vulgar. That and it also goes with a letter that rhymes with see. So here’s two headcannons that are pretty tame. Also, I hc Abner to be a vers.

Anyways.

Whenever Abner is having sexual intercourse with his partner, showing his emotions can be rather complex than his platonic relationship with you. Thus when he’s trying to gaze into your eyes, all you receive is a wide-eyed stare as he thrusts into you. Another aspect of his is uncontrollable giggling. At any moment, when you're riding him, something in his head switches and causes him to be a laughing mess. You remembered briefly stopping to ask him why he keeps laughing every single time you ask that question his response is the same, it feels good.

===

A/N: Hope ya'll enjoyed reading, and thank you for liking/reblogging. I find it hard to express my emotions sometimes and overthink it. When I see that I'm getting positive remarks on a couple of stuff I wrote, I acknowledge and appreciate the kindness, but never respond to it. So again, thank you so much for the support. Next one's gonna be a Johnson request, and then whatevers on the to-do list.

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

The Colonel and the Sergeant (Part 2)

Fandom: DC, Marvel, The Suicide Squad, Avengers, Rick Flag, Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 11,959

TW: Whump, Language, Semi-Graphic Medical Procedure, Near Death Experience, Mentions of Pregnancy, Vomiting, Angst, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Blood

Thank you so much to @romanticgumchewer-reactivated and @loverhymeswith for beta reading for me!

Tag List: @viinchester, @tesla-pigeon,@justmad, @littlestatesman, @lacontroller1991, @n1ght5h4d3-24, @reysorigins, @princessxkenobi, @romanticgumchewer-reactivated, @loverhymeswith, @edgycatx, @river9noble, @emmaflag17, @tanyaherondale, @taternuts, @weallhaveadestiny, @lanatheawesome

Series Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Alternate Ending

Bucky sighed in annoyance as his phone began to ring. He had just gotten out of the shower and was looking forward to a quiet afternoon for once. But no one ever called him unless they needed something. Glancing at the caller ID, he hesitated at the UNKNOWN CALLER displayed on the screen, debating whether or not to just let it go to voicemail. Oh, what the hell.

He answered the phone with a half-hearted, “Hello?”

“Bucky?…. I’m so sorry, bu-but I didn’t know who else to call…”

Bucky snapped to attention immediately at the sound of your quivering, tear-filled voice. “Y/N? What happened? What’s wrong?”

“The mission… everything… And Rick-” A massive sob cut you off. Bucky waited with bated breath for you to continue. Finally, you choked out, “Rick’s hurt real bad. I-I don’t know if….Oh God! Bucky, I need help.”

“Whatever you need. Just tell me where you are, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“We’re on Corto Maltese.”

That was all Bucky needed to hear. He had been watching the news coverage just before getting into the shower. He knew what had happened down there, and he could only imagine the kind of trouble you were currently in.

“Okay, doll. I’ll get a Quinjet together as quickly as I can. How many of you are there?”

“Seven- no wait, six. I forgot Abner…. there are six of us left. But uh, one of us is not exactly human sized.”

“How big are we talking?”

“Smaller than Hulk, but bigger than any normal person we know.”

“Got it. And besides Flag, is anyone else hurt?” Bucky quickly threw his jacket on as he began looking around for his boots.

“Cuts and bruises but nothing too serious. But Rick…he needs a lot of help.”

“I’ll bring what I can, but the SHIELD base down here isn’t really equipped for medical operations. And even once I take off, it’s going to take me a while to get there. Are you going to be okay until then?”

Bucky could only hear some soft sniffling on the other side of the phone. Just as he was about to ask again, you said, “We’ll have to be.”

“I’m on my way, doll. It’s going to be okay.”

“Bucky….please hurry.” And the line went dead.

As Bucky descended the ramp of the Quinjet an hour and a half later, he could see you sitting on the ground with a man’s head (presumably Flag’s) resting in your lap, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders despite the sweltering South American climate. When your eyes landed on Bucky, you bent down and kissed the man’s forehead, then slid over as a pale woman in a disheveled red dress took your place. Blanket falling to the ground, you took off running as quickly as you could even though Bucky noticed your obvious limp. He rushed to meet you, stumbling back as you threw yourself into his arms.

You buried your face in his chest as you whispered, “Thank you, Sarge.”

Bucky gave you a tight squeeze then pulled back to examine you. He gently brushed his fingers over a large gash on your forehead. “Are you okay? This doesn’t look good.”

But you just shook your head. “I’ll be fine, but we need to get Rick help. Now.”

You grabbed his hand and led him to where everyone else was gathered around the body on the ground. Besides the woman in the red dress, there was also a man holding a massive gun, a younger girl with a rat sitting on her shoulder, and what Bucky could only describe as a half-man, half-shark hybrid. But after meeting creatures like Rocket and Groot, nothing really phased him anymore.

Bucky got his first good look at the colonel as he approached. Gone was the strong, confident, handsome man he had met less than a week ago. Instead, the soldier was now a shade of his former self.

His face was pale and ashy while his eyes danced wildly behind half-closed lids. You had tried to wrap your jacket around the piece of porcelain that was jutting from the center of his chest in an attempt to slow the bleeding, but it didn’t seem to be doing much good. His bright yellow shirt was stained red and brown from the massive amounts of blood that had seeped into it over the past few hours. But his breathing troubled Bucky more than anything. It was shallow and labored, with long pauses between each breath, leaving Bucky worried that each one might be his last.

But you scrambled carefully to his side, ignoring all of that. Bending over so your forehead rested on his, you whispered, “Rick, baby, Bucky’s here with help. We’re going to get you out of here. Please, just hold on a little longer. You’re doing so great this far, but I need you to keep hanging on. Okay?”

Bucky saw Flag’s eyes flutter open just slightly more than they had been as they struggled to focus on you. He couldn’t tell if any words actually left the man’s mouth, but Bucky could clearly read his lips as they formed, I love you. Then his eyes rolled back into his head as he slipped back into his half-conscious state. A single tear rolled down your cheek as you whispered, “I love you too, Rick.”

You lightly placed a small kiss on his cheek before the younger girl gently took your shoulders and moved you out of the way so Bucky could approach. He wasn’t sure if the man could hear him or not, but Bucky said, “Hey, Colonel. We’re gonna get you fixed up, but this next part’s really gonna suck. And I’m sorry for that.”

He motioned over the medical team he had brought with him, and they wheeled over a stretcher. Getting a firm grasp on the injured man’s broad shoulders, Bucky lifted him onto the stretcher as two members of the medical team handled his legs. A low, pained moan escaped Flag’s lips at the harsh movement, and Bucky could hear you sob as you watched. As soon as he was secured to the stretcher, the team rushed Flag up the ramp and into the Quinjet. You quickly rushed after him, giving Bucky a small nod of appreciation as you passed.

Bucky turned to follow you when the pale woman popped up directly in front of him. She was giving him a slightly crazed smile that put Bucky on edge but when she spoke, it was with an upbeat, singsongy tone, “So, you’re the sergeant, huh? God, she sure knows how to pick ‘em.”

Bucky didn’t really know how to respond. “Thanks, I guess….” He started to walk away but the woman shot out a hand and stopped him with a vice-like grip on his arm, her expression now more of a death stare. He gawked at her, confused about the sudden shift in attitude.

“Listen, Sarge. She might seem okay at the moment, but she’s far from it. She’s been slipping in and out of shock since we found them. Also, she blew chunks earlier and I’ve never seen her get sick…ever. I may no longer be a practicing MD but I can see that she’s right on the edge of a complete breakdown. She didn’t tell us everything that happened and all we know for sure is the guy who did this got some pretty good licks at her before Flag took that blow that was meant for her. I’ve never seen her like this and I’m kinda worried. So, keep an eye on her. We need her to come out of this in one piece. Flag needs her to come out of this in one piece.” Bucky nodded and the woman let go of his arm, her crazed smile once more plastered on her face. She playfully twitched her nose as she sauntered off. “Just thought ya should know, hot stuff.”

He stared after her, dumbfounded as she walked up the ramp into the Quinjet, but a voice from behind him snapped him back to attention.

“Don’t mind Quinn. She’s a bit of an acquired taste.” Bucky turned to see the man from your team walking towards him. He stuck out his hand. “Robert DuBois. We appreciate the pick-up. Flag’s an old friend and I may have only known his girl for a few days, but she’s one of the first people I’ve met in a while who actually gives a fuck about what happens to us, so ….thank you for the help.”

“Bucky Barnes. And no thanks necessary. I’d do anything for her. And I actually got to meet Flag last week, he seems like a good guy.”

“One of the best. Though… I’m hoping he pulls through more for her sake than for his.”

“Quinn said she’s not handling things well?”

DuBois sighed as he shook his head. “She’s blaming herself. Best we can piece together is she and Flag found some proof of some messed up shit the government was doing. Our government. They decided to expose it and one of the team members, Peacemaker, tried to stop them. Then the building started to collapse, and they were separated. She ended up on the side with Peacemaker. They fought and just as he was about to kill her, Flag found ‘em and pushed her out of the way. She somehow managed to drag him far enough out of the building that they survived when it collapsed.”

“And Peacemaker?”

“No longer a problem.” DuBois stared at Bucky as if challenging him to ask more details, but the soldier knew better. So, the man continued, “We traded the information for our freedom, but she doesn’t trust our boss to keep her side of the bargain. We told her we would find our own way back home, but she insisted on helping us get back to the States. And since you were coming down to get Flag, we figured we could kill two birds with one stone.”

“Wait, what do you mean you traded the information for your freedom? Freedom from who?”

DuBois chuckled. “She didn’t tell ya? We’re all criminals. You’re transporting what’s left of the fuckin’ Suicide Squad.”

Bucky looked around at your team members, realization suddenly dawning on him as to why everyone looked so familiar. He turned back to the man, the criminal in front of him. “So, Robert DuBois…. You’re Bloodsport.”

The man grinned. “I’m surprised you’ve heard of me.”

Bucky faced the ramp where the rest of the team had gone. “And Quinn…. That was Harley Quinn?! No, actually, that makes a lot of sense.”

DuBois chuckled again. “Yeah, I told ya, she’s something else. The little one’s Ratcatcher 2, or Cleo, and the big shark bloke’s Nanaue.” He hesitated for a moment. “I hope this is still okay with you. We assumed she told you who she worked with.”

“Except for when I ran into her and Flag the other night, I haven’t talked to her in almost three years. And all she said was they worked with a task force based at Belle Reve. I guess I should have put two and two together, but I didn’t give it much thought.” Bucky shrugged. “But if she trusts you, that’s good enough for me.”

DuBois raised an eyebrow. “You’re taking this pretty well for one of the good guys.”

Bucky chuckled humorlessly. “Well, I wasn’t always one of the good guys. Besides, I’ve worked with my share of fugitives and criminals in the past. Hell, I’ve been both.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of you too. The Winter Soldier. They say you used to be one badass motherfucker once upon a time.”

Bucky clenched his jaw. “I was. I was a heartless, robotic killing machine. But not anymore.”

“And she helped you do that?”

Bucky gazed longingly at the Quinjet you now resided in. “That and so much more. I owe her everything.”

DuBois slapped him on the back. “Well, I guess this gets you one step closer to being square.”

“I guess so…..” He noticed one of the medics waving at them. “Looks like they are ready to take off. We better go.”

As they walked over to the ship, Bucky couldn’t help but think that DuBois was wrong. This pick up was nothing compared to everything you had done for him in the past. If he did want to try and even out their score, he still had a lot of work ahead of him.

Forty minutes later, the Quinjet landed in Miami. You hadn’t wanted to chance going back to Louisiana just yet and Miami was the closest SHIELD based medical facility anyway, so it was a win-win situation. Flag had been given an IV, a blood infusion, and an oxygen mask but nothing could be done about the fragment of porcelain protruding from his chest until he was in an actual OR. And now, as the medical crew hurried to ready him for transfer, Bucky glanced over to where you were still sitting.

Ever since boarding the Quinjet, you hadn’t moved from the seat next to Flag’s stretcher, Harley on one side of you and Cleo on the other. Every so often, you would break out in uncontrollable shakes, your whole body shivering as if you were in the Arctic without a coat. Whenever this happened, your teammates would wrap their arms tightly around you to try to warm you up as well as to still the tremors. It would usually help after a few minutes, but soon the whole process would start again. Harley shot Bucky a worried look after a particularly bad episode, but he was helpless to assist in any way. All he could do was stand and watch.

And it was there, leaning against the far wall, that Bucky got his first good look at you. Dust and blood coated every inch of you, from your hair all the way down to your boots. Besides the gash on your head (which the medics had hastily slapped some gauze over), there was a large tear in one of your pant legs and the dark blood stain around it explained your limp (this had also been wrapped in gauze). And once, as you exposed your neck to rest your head on Harley’s shoulder, Bucky could make out distinct fingerprint shaped bruises encircling your throat. He was glad DuBois had taken care of Peacemaker because if he hadn’t, Bucky would have gone back and done it himself.

Harley helped you to your feet as everyone prepared to leave the ship. You had already been told that Flag would be rushed to be prepped for surgery immediately and you would have to wait in the lobby or in his hospital room for him to return. As they wheeled him into the hospital, Bucky could see the pain and fear carved into your face as you watched him get farther and farther from you. But, ever the professional, as soon as he was out of sight, you snapped back to commander mode. After providing the squad strict instructions to avoid detection, you gave each member a tight squeeze of gratitude as you wished them luck.

As they turned to leave, you grabbed Bloodsport’s arm, holding him back. Once everyone else was out of earshot, you said. “DuBois. I need you to watch after them. Waller might have said she was letting everyone go, but she doesn’t lose that easily. Get them somewhere safe and stay there. If anything happens, drop everything and run. I’ll find a way to get in contact when I can, but you need to lay low for now. I need….I can’t deal with this-” you motioned to the door they had just wheeled Flag through- “if I’m terrified what’s happening with the team. So please, promise me you’ll keep them safe. At least until I can come back. I know you never wanted to be a part of this, but I’m asking you as a friend, as Rick’s friend, can you do this for us?” Your lip quivered slightly as you finished your plea.

“Of course. We’ll be fine. You just focus on what’s going on here.” Then the older man pulled you into a tight hug. “Listen, he’s gonna pull through. He’s too stubborn, too determined, and he’s got too much to live for. He’s not gonna let something like a shitty piece of toilet take him down. After all, he’s Rick Fuckin’ Flag.” A hysterical chuckle burst from your lips as you nodded furiously into his chest. DuBois pulled back and stared directly into your eyes. “He’s Rick Fuckin’ Flag. Don’t forget it.”

You nodded again. “Rick Fuckin’ Flag…. Thank you, DuBois.”

He nodded back, then catching Bucky’s eye, he performed a two-finger salute before turning and following the rest of the team out of sight.

As you waited to hear if Flag was in surgery yet, Bucky managed to convince you to try and clean up a little in the bathroom. Between the dirt and the blood, you were leaving a trail everywhere you walked. Reluctantly, you had relented.

It was then, as he was sitting in a chair outside the bathroom waiting for you, that the nurse found him. “He wants to talk to you.”

“Okay, let me go grab her.” Bucky started to stand up.

“No, not her. You.”

Bucky froze in his half-risen position. “Me? Are you sure?”

“Yes, he was very clear about it. He said the man who brought him in with the metal arm. I assume that description only applies to you.”

Bucky sighed as he stood up the rest of the way. “I guess so.” He glanced towards the bathroom. “Can you stay here and let her know where I went if she comes out?”

“For a few minutes, but then I need to get back to work.”

“Thank you. I don’t think this will take very long.”

As he entered the OR prep room, he noticed Flag looked just as bad as he had on the plane, the only difference was now his eyes were open. When he noticed Bucky in the doorway, he weakly, clumsily managed to tug down the oxygen mask obscuring his mouth, careful to avoid the shard still stuck in his chest. After a few labored breaths, he rasped out, “Sergeant.”

Bucky nodded at the man. “Colonel.”

“Thank you. I know why you did… did it. And it wasn’t… for me. But still, thank you.” Flag’s low, gravely voice was slightly slurred as he struggled to complete his sentences, his southern accent sounding more pronounced than before. “I already owe you…my life. But I need… somethin' else…”

He paused to take a few deep breaths from the oxygen mask before continuing. “I need you to… look after her… She’s gonna need…. you….”

Bucky shifted uncomfortably. “Come on, man. The doctors said they have a high probability of success with the surgery. You should be back on your feet in no time, then she’ll have you to look after her.”

Flag shook his head slightly. “We both know….it’s not that easy. And I….know her. She’s blamin' hers-self right now….I can’t be-be there to set her straight….. You..you have to help her…through this………Please, Barnes.” It was the first time since they had met that he had addressed Bucky as anything but Sergeant. Bucky could see past the pain in Flag’s eyes to the desperation and pleading which lay underneath.

So, he nodded. “Yes, sir. I will protect her with my life.”

Flag sank back into the bed, satisfied with the answer. But just as Bucky thought he should probably leave, he spoke up again, weaker than before. “And one more thing…….There’s a ring….in a suitcase in my closet at home….Can you…. make sure she….If I don’t….get the chance….still want her to know…. Might be too late…. but she should…know…” His eyes rolled back in his head as he struggled to catch his breath. Bucky quickly bent down to readjust the oxygen mask over his mouth and Flag seemed to relax slightly, though his eyes remained closed.

Unsure if the man could still hear him or not, Bucky firmly grasped his shoulder. “I swear, Colonel. Whatever happens, I will always be there for her, I will always keep her safe. And if it comes down to it…I’ll make sure she gets that ring.” For just a brief second, Bucky swore he saw a smile tug at the corner of Flag’s lips under the mask.

A nurse came in and told Bucky they were ready to start the surgery. Casting one last look at the fallen soldier in the bed, Bucky left the room. As he headed back to find you, he pulled out his phone and hit the speed dial. “Sam? Have you left yet or are you still in Louisiana?..... Good. I need you to pick up something for me…..”

Bucky was once again sitting in one of the chairs when you exited the bathroom. He decided not to mention he saw Flag because he was afraid it would upset you to know you missed the chance to speak to him. Besides, he wasn’t quite sure what he would tell you about what they had discussed.

You looked a lot better now that you had been able to clean up a little. The dirt and blood was gone from your face and arms and you just looked overall more refreshed. You were chewing on a piece of gum, probably because they hadn’t found you a toothbrush yet. You were still wearing just your filthy tank top and bloody cargo pants, seeing as your jacket was currently somewhere drenched in Flag’s blood, and Bucky made a mental note to try and find you something a little warmer.

You plopped down in the chair directly next to Bucky, your arms bumping into each other. He glanced over and noticed something that had previously been covered in grim.

“That tattoo’s new.” He nodded to the messily scrawled “SKWAD” on your right bicep.

You smiled softly as you gazed at it. “Yeah, Harley started the tradition. Anyone who makes it through their first Task Force mission alive gets one. And everyone takes turns tattooing the others.”

“Who did yours?”

“Rick. It was just luck that it happened to be his turn, though his tattooing skills leave much to be desired. It hurt like a mother.” You bit your lip, lost in thought. “His tattoo was on his left arm, so I chose to have mine on my right. That way, when we stood next to each other, they’re side by side. Even after only one mission, I knew that’s where I always wanted to be.”

You were quiet for a moment before letting out a long, forlorn sigh as you whispered, “He’s gonna hate me.”

“What?”

“Rick. When he wakes up and finds out what I did, he’s gonna hate me.”

Bucky stared at you in confusion. “Doll, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m pretty sure no matter what you did, Flag could never hate you.”

“We risked our lives to get that drive. He’s only in here because we wanted to expose it to the world. And the fact I traded it to save him…. He’s gonna hate me for that.”

Bucky took your hand. “I know I only really met Flag that one time, but it was obvious he is deeply in love with you. He’ll understand why you did what you did. And it wasn’t just for him. It was for your whole team. That’s got to count for something, right?”

You shook your head. “You don’t get it. Rick is…. complicated. He’s a good man, but he doesn’t live in the black and white world people like Steve Rogers lives in. He lives in the grays and shadows. He’ll get his hands dirty if he has to. He doesn’t like it, but he understands that sometimes that is what’s needed.

“But, all those things he’s done, he’s done them because he was told it was for his country. And that is something he takes so seriously. His dad, his grandfather, hell, his great-grandfather, were all soldiers. It’s all he’s ever wanted to be. Because he believed in what he was doing. But what we found out…” You hesitated. “It’s bad, Buck. I mean, it is horrifyingly bad. And I watched something break in Rick as he saw what his country, the thing he put all his faith and loyalty into for all these years, saw what it did. What it hid from everyone. All the morally gray things he has done, all the people he has hurt or killed for that idealized greater good, the weight of that hit him all at once. I could see it on his face. Hear it in his voice. I’ve never heard him like that…..”

Bucky shifted uncomfortably in his chair. You both knew the reality of what the government was capable of. You had both seen the corruption and greed firsthand. So, if whatever you had seen bothered you this much, it must be truly horrendous. But he also knew you had been sworn to secrecy in exchange for your freedom, so he didn’t bother asking about it. Instead, he simply said, “Flag may have to come to terms with a lot of things. But he will understand what you did and why you did it. Even if he is a little mad at first, he’ll get over it.”

“I ‘ope so”, you mumbled, and Bucky noticed you were barely hanging on to consciousness.

“Hey, when was the last time you got any sleep?”

“I don’t know….Got a few hours in the jungle a few ‘ights ‘go.” Your head began to droop into your chest before you snapped it back up. “Sorry. I-I guess I am a little tired.”

“Well, get some sleep. We’ve got time.”

“What if some’ing ‘appens?” Your head began to droop again.

Bucky eased you over until you were leaning up against him. “I promise, if anything happens, I’ll wake you up immediately.”

“Swear?” Your eyes were already closed, and your breathing was slowing down. Even after all of the horrors from the last few days, you actually looked peaceful. Just like when you used to fall asleep with him on the couch in your shared apartment.

Bucky smiled down at the beautiful sight he thought he would never see again. “Swear.”

While you were asleep, Steve and Sam arrived to check on how you were holding up. Bucky had called them as soon as the Quinjet had originally taken off from Louisiana and filled them in on the situation. Both of them were concerned about how well Bucky could handle being this close to you again and finding you asleep on his shoulder did little to lessen their fears. He swore to them he was okay, but he could tell they didn’t really believe him. Not wanting to wake you, they had promised to come back later and insisted Bucky call if he needed anything. Just before they left, Sam slipped Bucky the ring box he had picked up from your apartment. Bucky jammed it in his jacket pocket without looking at it, but he could feel the weight of it dragging at him even as he just sat there. Just before you had left him, Bucky had gone to a few places to look at rings. In fact, he had narrowed it down to two, but he had never gotten the chance to make a final decision. It felt like a lifetime ago, and yet….

Bucky glanced down at you asleep on his shoulder. He wrapped his Vibranium arm around your waist, pulling you closer, onto his chest. A small smile spread across your lips as you nuzzled against his neck. For the first time since he had picked you up in Corto Maltese, he saw your muscles slowly untense as you relaxed into him. Bucky softly kissed the top of your head, thinking how nice it felt to be holding you in his arms again. It was just like old ti-

“Rick.”

Bucky’s heart clenched as the name slips from your sleeping lips. Your smile had shifted into a full-on ray of sunshine as you dreamed you were in the other man’s arms. Instinctively, Bucky tightened his hold on you, causing you to finch awake. Glancing around, your face fell as you remembered where you were. As your eyes met and you registered whose arms you had really been sleeping in, Bucky saw fresh heartbreak flash across your face. Standing quickly, you mumbled a weary apology. “I’m sorry, Buck. I didn’t mean to…. I just forgot…”

“Hey, it’s okay. You were asleep. You didn’t know any better.”

“No, it’s not okay. I shouldn’t be putting all of this on you. I mean, I haven’t even talked to you in almost three years and then I show up and expect you to still….”

“Still what?” He stood and took a step closer to you.

You looked at the floor, unable to meet his eye. “Still be there for me. To still care.”

“Doll, no matter what happens, I will always care about you. Just because we’re not together anymore doesn’t mean I stopped….”

You both awkwardly stood there in silence, neither sure what to say. Finally, you mumbled, “I should go-go check in on Rick.” You turned and started walking down the hall.

Bucky took another step after you as he blurted out, “Why do you cry when you watch Titanic?”

You stopped and turned to face him, confusion etched on your face. “What?”

“When you took that phone call the other night, Rick and I got to talking and he mentioned you always cry at the end of Titanic. You never once even got misty eyed when we watched it. So, what changed?”

“Really? We’re talking about this now? Why does it matter?”

“Because I need to know.”

“Bucky, it doesn’t matter! It’s just a movie. Who cares?”

“I need to know!”

“You already know!” Pain was etched on your face as you yelled the words. You bit your lip as you looked away.

Bucky nodded sadly. “I have an idea but even if I’m right, what I can’t figure out is if it bothered you that much, why did you keep watching it?”

Softly, you whispered, “I thought it would get easier. Every time, I thought ‘this time will be better. It will hurt less and I’ll know I’ve started moving on’. But every time, it hurt just as bad. Every time Rose promised to always hold on and then immediately let go…. Turns her back on her love…allows him to sink back into the frozen abyss alone…. Just like I did to you.” You finally worked up the courage to look Bucky in the eye. “I promised you I would be there for you, always, but then…. I just left. I don’t know why I thought you would understand why I left when I didn’t understand myself. But…

“After the other night, I really started thinking about us. And about me and Rick. And about why I felt like something was missing with us, but it was there with him, and I think I finally figured it out. It was you. You were what was missing.”

Bucky was taken aback. “What the hell are you talking about? We were together all the time! And if I did go off by myself, I always asked you first.”

“Exactly. And that’s the problem. You never made any decisions for yourself. Everything was always about what I wanted or what I thought about something. Do you remember what you asked me the last time we watched Titanic together?”

Bucky thought for a moment. “Yeah, I asked why we always watched the same movie. Why you never chose a different one.”

“Yes, why I never chose another one. Up until that moment, I hadn’t even realized it was the only thing we ever watched, but it was true. And I also realized why. It was because you always made me pick the movie. Even when I asked you to, you insisted we watch whatever I wanted. And then, I began to realize the same thing happened with everything we did. I always picked where we would go to eat. I always picked which bar we hung out at on Friday night. I always picked where we went on vacation. And every time I asked you for the smallest amount of input, you always just said you were happy with whatever I wanted to do.”

You hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I don’t know if it was left over from whatever HYDRA did to you, made it so you didn’t know how to make your own choices or if it was because you held me up as this beacon of perfection, your savior that could do no wrong and deserved whatever I wanted in this world – don’t you dare deny that, you know that’s exactly how you saw me – But whatever it was, it all just became too much. And even though I couldn’t understand what was happening at the time, I knew that I needed something more.

“And I found that with Rick. When I’m with him, things are different. Sure, he listens to what I want, but he also lets me know what he wants. When I say we should watch Titanic for the hundredth time, he reminds me of a new movie I wanted to see that we both would enjoy. When he doesn’t feel like going out to the Italian restaurant I recommend, he asks if we can just order a pizza instead. He never demands his own way, but he’s not afraid to say what he wants either. I never felt like I was the one making all the decisions, we were just…. partners.

“And that’s what a relationship is supposed to be. It’s taking parts of each person and making something new. With us…. We just became me. And that’s what was missing. There was no you in us. And when I left, I felt like the exact same person I was when we met. A few more scars, a few more wrinkles, but ultimately, I had remained unchanged for four years. But from the moment I met Rick, I transformed, evolved. He challenges me every day, and with him, I feel like I’ve become the best version of myself.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say. He just kind of felt numb. He had always thought the two of you had the perfect relationship until the end, and now you were telling him it was fundamentally screwed up from the beginning. That it was all because of him.

You stared at him expectantly, like you wanted him to say something, but he didn’t have the words to express how he was feeling.

Just then, a doctor rounded the corner and sped up as his gaze landed on you. “Ah, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you two. Colonel Flag just got out of surgery.”

You turned all your attention to the doctor, your conversation with Bucky all but forgotten. “How is he?”

“Not bad, all things considered. The object penetrated his chest severely, but it only slightly grazed his heart. However, any deeper and he would have been dead in seconds. He was lucky his attacker didn’t get a chance for a second hit. We patched up as much damage as we could, but anytime you have to mess with the heart, complications can arise. At the moment, he is stable and resting but we need to monitor him for the next day or two. He is still unconscious, and we will know more once he wakes up. They will be bringing him back to his room shortly and you can wait with him.”

You threw your arms around the man’s neck. “Thank you so much, doctor! This is…this is so much better than I hoped!”

The doctor blushed slightly and cleared his throat. “Yes, well… as I said, he’s not out of the woods yet. And he will probably have a long recovery, but for now, we are hopeful. Now, I have other patients to see but please let me or one of the nurses know if you need anything.” He patted you on the shoulder and walked away.

Before Bucky could say anything, you whirled around and headed off towards Flag’s room, leaving him to watch you walk away.

Bucky stared at you through the glass window of Flag’s room. Eyes closed as you slumped in the chair next to the bed, anyone could have easily mistaken you for sleeping except for the fact your mouth never stopped moving. Ever since the doctors had brought him back to the room and told you that just talking to Flag was the best thing for him, you had refused to shut up. After the first hour, you had started running out of things to talk about. So, for the next two hours, you had been summarizing the plots to any movie, tv show, or book that popped into your head, adding your own personal opinions and commentaries as you thought of them. Bucky’s favorite had been the twenty-minute tangent you had gone on right in the middle of summarizing Die Hard to explain in emphatic detail why it was, in fact, not a Christmas movie. Now as you approached the three-hour mark, your head was beginning to sag, and your voice was growing scratchy with overuse, but you still refused to quit.

After your last conversation, Bucky had remained out in the hall but he could hear every word you said. He hadn’t been quite ready to face you after the truth about why you had left had finally been revealed. He was hurt and confused at first, but the more he thought about everything, the more he realized you were right. When he started getting his memories back after escaping HYDRA, he had a hard time reconciling the man he had become with the man he used to be. It became so unbearable that he had almost given up the thought of ever finding peace. But then he met you. Well, formally met. You had been working with Steve when they discovered he was the Winter Soldier but a roundhouse kick to the face wasn’t quite what he called an introduction.

From before your first conversation together, you knew who he was and what he had done. And you did not care. You found a way to get through to him, to help him come to terms with everything that had happened and, just like you said, he worshiped you for that. You were the light of his life, his perfect angel who could do no wrong. And it was only now that he realized what kind of pressure that must have put on you. And how in his attempts to give you the world, he really hadn’t given you his true self. Just as you hadn’t realized the truth until it was too late, neither had he. And he was paying the price for it.

But he would have to come to terms with these revelations later. Right now, you needed him. So, Bucky entered Flag’s room with an extra-large coffee he had bought for each of you. Your head lolled lazily towards the door when you heard him approach, but your eyes lit up when you saw the drink in his hand.

“Oh my god, please tell me that one’s for me.”

“Oh, did you want one? I was just really thirsty and thought I would get two for myself.” Bucky smirked.

Rolling your eyes, you held out your hand. “Just hand it over.”

“Magic word?”

“What are you, five? PLEASE, hand it over.”

“I was actually looking for ‘You are the best’ but that works too.” He handed you your cup.

“Well, that goes without saying. Plus, that is more than one word.” You took a long sip of the coffee, a blissful sigh escaping your lips. You smiled up at Bucky. “You remembered just how I like it.”

Bucky chuckled. “Of course I did. You had me pick you up one almost every day. And the one time I got it wrong, you never let me live it down.”

You set the drink down on the table next to you. “Well, who mixes up caramel and hazelnut? They’re not even in the same flavor category.” The smile dropped from your face as you paused and stared down at your hands. “Bucky, about what I said earlier… I just wanted to make sur- Wait..” You stood up and took a step closer to the monitors displaying Rick’s vitals. “That’s not right…. His heart-”

Your words were cut off as the irregular spikes plummeted to a straight line and a continuous *BEEP* filled the air. Your eyes grew wide as panic swept over your face. You placed one hand on his chest as you ran the other through Flag’s filthy hair. “No, no, no, no…. Oh, come on, Rick, don’t do this to me. Come on, baby. I need you, please, don’t do this. You are stronger than this. Please. No, no…”

When nothing changed, you dove for the wall, pounding every call button or emergency alarm you could find. “Help!” The desperation in your voice shook Bucky to his core. “Please! Someone, we need help in here!”

Bucky dashed out into the hall, trying to find a nurse or a doctor. Rushing down to the nurse’s station, he yelled, “We need help in room 806. The patient’s heart stopped.”

Without waiting for a response, he hurried back to the room. You were bent over holding Flag’s hand, tears streaming down your face as you rocked back and forth, muttering, “Please, please, please, please, not like this, please Rick, please baby, please, please, please, please….”

As Bucky heard the flurry of activity in the hall getting closer, he gently tried to pull you out of the way but you lashed out at him wildly. Wrapping his arms around you, he whispered in your ear, “It’s going to be okay, but they need to get to him so they can help him. Come on, doll. Please let go.”

“I can’t leave him.” Through the tears, your eyes looked wild and manic as you stared down at your lifeless boyfriend.

“I promise, I won’t make you leave. We just have to get out of the way. We can just move to the corner, and you’ll still be here while the doctors fix him up.” He took your face in his hands and gently turned your head to look at him. “I swear, I won’t let anyone make you leave until you want to. But we have to move.”

You nod frantically. “Okay, okay.” You kissed Flag’s forehead as you whispered, “I’m still here, baby. I’m not going anywhere, so please, come back to me.”

It looked like it physically pained you to let go of Flag’s hand, but the second you did, Bucky whipped you away from the bed just as a team of doctors and machinery came crashing through the door. Bucky kept his arms tightly wrapped around you as you both watched the team quickly examine the still body. One doctor began performing CPR, but it did nothing to improve the situation. After a moment, another doctor pulled out a defibrillator and slammed the paddles to Flag’s chest. Once everyone was clear, a jolt of electricity was sent coursing through his system. His body jerked harshly on the bed, causing a gut-wrenching sob to erupt from your mouth. Another few shocks, each accompanied by another sob, still did nothing to change Flag’s condition.

By this point, Bucky’s tight grip around your waist and chest was the only thing keeping you vertical. You had collapsed weakly against him, but your eyes never left the bed. A nurse tried to escort the two of you from the room, but Bucky motioned her off. No matter how badly this experience was affecting you, he had promised he would let you stay, even though he was really regretting it. Your entire body was shaking uncontrollably, and a low, continuous wail was tumbling from your mouth. Bucky thought things couldn’t get much worse, but then the doctor pulled out a scalpel.

Bucky turned his head and hid it in your hair as the surgical scar on Flag’s chest was reopened. He had seen enough of this kind of thing back in the makeshift camps when he was a soldier in the 40’s. He had heard the screams, smelt the blood, and watched in horror as good men were hacked up in front of his eyes all in the name of saving their lives. He wanted nothing more than to run from the room, but he wasn’t about to leave you behind.

He suddenly realized that you had stopped shaking in his arms. Instead, you had gone completely rigid. Peaking at your face, he could see it frozen in what could only be described as terror. Eyes wide, jaw clenched, and skin paler than he had ever seen it, not a single muscle in your body so much as twitched as you stared unblinkingly at the bed. A quick glance at what you were looking at left Bucky wishing he hadn’t.

Flag’s chest was currently pried open as a doctor firmly squeezed his exposed heart in an attempt to manually restart it. But still the monitors continued their monotonous steady *BEEP*. Your face looked like it could have been carved out of stone, you were so still and unmoving. The extent of which, suddenly caused Bucky concern.

Muttering in your ear, he said, “Breathe, doll, you have to breathe.” Still, you didn’t flinch, so Bucky tightened his hold on your chest in one quick, jerky movement. “Breathe.”

You involuntarily inhaled, forced by the sudden pressure on your lungs. At the same instance, Flag’s heart monitor jumped to life. You tried to fling yourself at the bed, but Bucky held you back. As the sound stabilized, you crumbled into a mass of tears and sobs in Bucky’s arms. He slowly lowered both of you to the floor where you curled up in his chest, fingers gripping frantically at his jacket.

The doctors ignore the pair of you as they begin wheeling Flag’s bed out of the room. A nurse came over and gently bent down next to Bucky. In a soft, kind voice, she said, “They are taking him into surgery to stitch him back up. It shouldn’t take too long. A doctor will come talk to you once they are done.”

Bucky nodded his thanks, and the nurse gave you a sad smile before exiting. The two of you remained huddled on the floor in a heap, one sobbing uncontrollably while the other was helpless to ease your pain.

Bucky waited outside while the doctor talked to you. He couldn’t make out what was being said, and your stony expression gave nothing away. Finally, the doctor rested a hand on your arm then exited the room. He gave Bucky a sad, tight smile as he passed but didn’t say a word. It didn’t seem like a good sign.

Bucky slowly entered the room. He noticed your forgotten coffee sitting on the table, ice melted and condensation dripping slowly onto the floor. You had collapsed back into the chair, the hood of the oversized jacket Bucky had found for you pulled low over your face, hands shoved deep in the pockets. You were staring numbly at the tiles on the ceiling. Not sure what to expect, Bucky called softly from the doorway, “Hey, doll. What did the doctor say? How is he?”

You were silent for a long moment, not ever acknowledging you had heard Bucky speak. Just as he was turning to leave, to give you some space, he heard you mutter in a flat, monotone voice, “Six minutes….. He was gone for six minutes. They have him stabilized now but they’re not sure what kinds of complications might have happened due to the prolonged lack of oxygen. The doctor said there is a good possibility of some permanent brain dam-dama…” You swallowed hard as your face contorted in pain. You finally looked at Bucky, and he could see the tears threatening to fall. “How is he supposed to be okay after all of this? Even if he pulls through, what kind of life is he gonna have?”

Bucky hurried to your side, resting his hand on your arm. “You don’t know yet what condition he’ll be in. You said the doctor told you it’s just a possibility. He might be fine.”

You shook your head violently. “No, Buck… I mean, how is he supposed to be okay after everything, not just the brain stuff. I…I saw his heart. I saw his literal heart.” Your eyes took on a haunted quality as you stared shellshocked at the memory. “I have seen so many horrific, unspeakable things in my life. Things that haunt my dreams every night. But I have never seen something as terrible a- as terrible as watching them cut him open like a Thanksgiving turkey, and seeing his still, lifeless heart sitting unmoving in his chest. I can’t unsee it. Everywhere I look, every time I close my eyes, all I see is his unbeating heart and I can’t…” You pulled your legs up into your chest, wrapping your arms tightly around them.

Bucky thought about the ring that was still sitting in his pocket. Was now the time to give it to you? Would you be comforted knowing that Flag loved you so much he wanted to marry you, or would the idea that he might never get the chance be too much for you to bear? But he had promised to give it to you….

Bucky reached into his pocket but just as he opened his mouth to speak, he saw a sudden shiver pass through your body. Your face took on a sickly green hue as you bolted from the room, Bucky worriedly followed close on your heels. You made it halfway down the hall before realizing you weren’t going to make it to the bathroom. Instead, you plunged your head into the nearest trash can as you vomited violently. Bucky softly began rubbing your back as convulsed for a second time. Finally, you weakly collapsed back against the wall, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Glancing over at Bucky’s concerned face, you just muttered, “You don’t happen to have any gum, do you?”

Bucky blinked in astonishment. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That! You just got sick. And don’t tell me it was because of what we were talking about. I’ve seen you handle some of the grossest, goriest things imaginable without even blinking. Has this happened before? I’m pretty sure Quinn mentioned you got sick before I came to get you. That’s it, I’m finding someone to check you out.”

“Buck, stop. I’m fine.”

“No, I told you. You should have gotten checked the minute we got here. You had a damn building fall on you. For all we know, you have massive organ failure or are bleeding out internally.” He started to look around for a nurse.

“No, Bucky. I said I am fine. I don’t need to be checked out.”

Bucky ignored your pleas as he continued down the hall looking for help. “It’ll just take a few minutes. We should have done this hours ago. We need to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m pregnant.”

Bucky instantly froze as his blood ran cold. Slowly, he turned to face you. “You’re what?”

“I’m pregnant. Almost three months.” You wrapped your arms around your middle, avoiding his eyes as you bit back tears.

Bucky didn’t know what to say. He opened and shut his mouth a few times before the words just tumbled out, “Is it Flag’s?”

“No, it’s yours….What do you think, you ass? Of course, it’s Rick’s!” You furiously push past him as you head back towards Flag’s room. “Is that seriously the kind of girl you think I am? Fuck you.”

Bucky hurried after you. “I’m sorry. I-I just hadn’t realized you were trying for a kid.”

“We weren’t.” You sighed as you reached Flag’s door. While you were gone, they had wheeled him back in and you gazed longingly through the glass, your finger tracing his sleeping form. “But you know how it is. The adrenaline after a mission, the rush of still being alive. Mistakes happen. Precautions aren’t always taken.”

Bucky did know. Your legs wrapping tightly around his bare waist as your fingers curl into his hair. Lips smashing together, bodies melding into one, his metal hand slipping lower- Bucky quickly pushed down the memory. It wasn’t his place to think about you like that anymore. Especially now….

“Does he know?”

You shook your head softly. “No, I just found out the other day. After everything that happened at the bar the other night, I only ended up taking a few sips of that beer. Yet, the next morning, I was as sick as that time Thor and Steve challenged us to a drinking contest. So, I had someone at the prison check me out. I just never thought…. I was planning on telling him as soon as we got back.”

“Why did you still go? Once you knew.”

“I didn’t have a choice.” When you turned to look at him, Bucky saw a spark of actual fear in your eyes. “You don’t know Amanda Waller. She’s the most ruthless, cruel, stone-cold bitch I’ve ever met. And she had just enough leverage on me and Rick to make us do what we were told. Though I don’t think even she would have the balls to actually ever come after me, she knows who I used to team up with, who my friends are. But Rick… His ex-girlfriend was the team’s first mission. She was possessed by the spirit of… you know what, it doesn’t matter. Waller used her to get Rick to do whatever she wanted, then kept records of everything that made it seem like he was dirty. So, if either of us tried to go against her, she would destroy Rick.

“When I told her I was pregnant and I had to bow out of the mission, she refused to let me. Said everything was already a go with me on the team and she didn’t have time to change the plan. Well, I told her I had had enough of her bullshit, and I didn’t give a fuck about what she tried to do to me, but I wasn’t going.” Your shoulders sagged as you bowed your head. “But then she told me the whole plan. How there were two teams going to Corto Maltese, one as a distraction and one as the real deal. And the distraction team had left minutes ago, led by one Colonel Rick Flag. She said the only chance he had of making it out of there alive was for me to lead the second team. What else was I supposed to do? Plus, she said the second team’s part of the mission was supposed to be pretty safe. I thought everything would be okay.”

Bucky could understand your reasons for going, but it still didn’t explain your behavior afterward. “Okay, I get why you went, and it does seem like it was really your only option. But why haven’t you let anyone here check you out? You need to make sure everything’s okay, and not just with you.”

“….Because I’m scared.” The answer came out barely a whisper. Tears filled your eyes as your lip quivered and you wrapped your arms around your stomach. “What if something happened? What if…what if I….lost it? If something happens to Rick, this baby is all I’ll have left of him. I can’t lose it. And after what happened in Corto Maltese…”

“But that’s exactly why you need to be examined. And you need to be resting. And getting fluids and food. “

“I know, okay!” Your dam finally broke as your emotions burst forward, tears streaming down your face as you roared at Bucky. “I know what I should have been doing! But I couldn’t leave Rick. And when I realized he wasn’t going to be improving anytime soon, I told myself to get help then. But I had waited so long, I was afraid of what might have happened because I put it off. Which made me put it off longer, which made me more guilty and worried, and on and on and then Rick DIED for SIX whole minutes, and I wasn’t sure if he was going to make it an-and I… I just….I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO!” You dropped to a crouched position on the floor, face buried in your hands as you sobbed.

Bucky wasn’t sure what to do either. Part of him wanted to scoop you up in his arms and tell you everything was going to be alright. But another part of him knew that there was a chance that everything wasn’t going to be alright, and he didn’t want to give you false hope. And a third part of him was gutted, still trying to process the news that you were carrying another man’s child. Part of him had always hoped you would find your way back to him. But after seeing your devotion to Flag, your earlier revelation about why you had left, and now the kid, that hope had all but disappeared. And it hurt more than he wanted to admit. But right now, you needed him. So, Bucky forced all the worries and all the pain aside and approached your crumpled form.

As he tried to take you into his arms, you pushed him away. He remembered this side of you. The one that needed to show you were strong enough to deal with whatever was thrown at you. The one that would rather crash and burn than accept help. In the past when you got like this, he had just left you alone until you wanted to talk. However, at the moment, he knew that being alone was the last thing you needed. So instead, he wrapped his arms around you tightly, pinning your limbs to your side so you couldn’t escape his embrace. You struggled against him for a few moments before your body and spirit gave out. As you limply collapsed against him, Bucky once again found you sobbing in his arms.

After a while, you calmed down enough that Bucky felt comfortable letting you up. He got to his feet then gently helped you off the ground. You looked embarrassedly at the floor as you mumbled, “Thanks, Buck…. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just didn’t know…”

“How I would take it?” You nodded. “Yeah…. I definitely wasn’t expecting that news. Especially not after as much as you said you didn’t want kids when we were together. But now it seems like you’re all in.”

You gave a halfhearted shrug. “I told you, it’s not like I planned this. And besides, Rick…” You trailed off, not quite sure what to say.

Bucky turned his back to you as he whispered, “Oh, so, it was just me you didn’t want to have kids with.”

“Bucky, no! It’s not like that at all!” You walked around until you were once again in front of him, taking his hands in yours. “Rick told me he would like to have kids one day, but I told him the same thing I told you. I wasn’t sure if that was the life I wanted. I loved the lives I had with each of you. Nothing holding us back, free to come and go as we pleased, nothing to worry about but the two of us. And I loved being an Avenger, just like I loved being part of Task Force X, minus Waller. And kids just didn’t fit in either of those lives.”

“So, what changed?”

“At first, nothing. When I found out I was pregnant, I was really close to just having the doctor take care of things right then and there. But then… I had a flash of Rick holding our baby in his arms for the first time, and I have never wanted something so much in my life. And now, I’ve only known about it for less than a week, and if anything happened to it…” Your voice began to shake once again, and you rubbed furiously at your damp eyes. “Damn these stupid hormones! Like I don’t have enough to deal with right now!”

Bucky pulled out a napkin he had crammed in his pocket when he had gone to get coffee and handed it to you. You took the crumpled ball gratefully and blew your nose with a loud, snotty blast. Tucking the nasty, wet lump into your pocket, you smiled softly at Bucky. “Even after all the terrible things I have said to you over the past few days, all the harsh truths I’ve shared, you’re still looking out for me.”

“Always.”

You cupped his face between your hands, forcing him to look you straight in the eye. “Buck, I need you to know, it wasn’t you. I guess I just never seriously thought about kids. With anyone. But I did think about us when I was flying to Corto Maltese. About what we could have had if I had let us. And I think we could have been happy…. I’m sorry I took that from you.”

Bucky shook his head sadly. “No, doll. You didn’t take anything from me. I threw it away. I wasn’t the man you needed me to be. I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier and you’re right. I was so grateful for everything you had done for me, I would do anything to make sure you got anything you wanted. And in the end, I did tie my identity to yours. I think part of me was scared to try to figure out who I was after everything that happened, and it was just easier to latch onto you instead of facing that. But all that ended when you left. I know who I am again. And I am done letting you make all the decisions.” He grabbed your hands from where they still rested on his face, and he began pulling you down the hall.

You stumbled to keep up as you stared, brow furrowed and mouth slightly agape. “Uh, Sarge? What are you doing?”

“I’m taking you to be examined.”

“What? No! We just went over this!” You tried to pull away but between his Vibranium arm and his super soldier strength, you were no match for him.

Bucky just smirked at your futile attempts to escape as he continued dragging you towards the nurse’s station. “We did just go over this. And I said how important it was to get checked out. Plus, I told you, I’m not blindly following what you want anymore. I make my own decisions now.”

You glared at him, but under the halfhearted anger, Bucky could see the hints of a proud smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

The nurse refused to let Bucky in the room for your examination. He begged, pleaded, demanded, even tried pulling rank, but the answer was still no. On one hand, he understood. The nurse had said it was because they needed to ask you some very sensitive questions and they didn’t want the answers to be influenced by someone else being in the room. However, he still couldn’t get the image of your terrified face as the door closed between you out of his mind. He had sworn to Flag that he would keep you safe, would protect you. But how was he supposed to protect you from this? If something had gone wrong, what was he supposed to do?

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you emerged from the room. Immediately, you were in Bucky’s arms, tears dampening his shirt. Bucky’s heart plummeted until you whispered, “It’s alright, they said everything was alright with both me and the baby.”

Bucky pulled back to look at you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!” Tears still streamed down your cheeks, but he could now see the radiant smile that split your face in two.

He pulled you back into his embrace as he stroked your back. “I’m so glad, doll. I really am.”

“They want to put me on an IV for fluids but they’re going to set it up in Rick’s room so I can still stay with him. And I need to get a lot of rest, but we both kind of already knew that.” Your voice dropped to a reverent whisper, “Buck…. I got to hear the heartbeat. It was so strong and-and amazing even this early.”

Bucky felt a twinge in his own heart but ignored it. “Of course this kid’s going to have a strong heart. Look at who its parents are.”

You clutched him even tighter. “Thank you, Sarge. Thank you for everything.”

Bucky was so grateful you couldn’t see his face at that moment. He squeezed his eyes shut as he swallowed hard, trying to keep his breathing even. Just running into you the other day had thrown him for a loop. But these last two days…. Every word, every touch, every embrace. Every time, it made him feel like he was in heaven… just to drag him back to hell as he remembered these moments weren’t really about the two of you. That there was someone else you wanted in his place. And it was all too much. But it didn’t matter. He had made a promise, both to you and to Flag, and Bucky wasn’t going to let either of you down.

So, he stood in the middle of the hall, arms wrapped around the woman he loved, as you basked in the love of another.

An hour later, the two of you were back in Flag’s room. A nurse had set up your IV and you were seemingly nodding off in your chair next to his bed. Bucky was sitting next to you, texting Steve and Sam an update on everything going on here. He didn’t mention your pregnancy, but just said that you had finally been checked out and everything was fine. Once again, they asked how Bucky was handling things, but he ignored the question.

Suddenly, your sleepy voice broke the silence, “What if he doesn’t remember me?”

Bucky tucked his phone away as he leaned over closer to you in his chair. “Why do you say that?”

“They said there may be some brain damage. That it could include stuff like loss of motor function, cognitive issues, and memory loss. We’ve only known each other for less than two years. What if he forgot about me?”

“Doll, you’re not the type of person who can be forgotten.” Especially how it feels to love and be loved by you. Believe me, I’ve tried.

“I’m serious! What if-what if he can’t remember? What would that mean for our future? Our future.” You put a hand softly on your stomach. “How would I be able to tell him we’re having a baby if he doesn’t even remember who I am?”

Bucky sighed. “I wish I had the answer, but I don’t think there is one. But hey, speaking from experience, just because a memory is lost, doesn’t mean it can’t sometimes be found again. HYDRA wiped out who I was, who I knew, everything, but I was able to get it all back. It took time and a lot of work, but it is possible.”

“Sarge, it’s a little different when someone hides your memories versus your brain just deciding to delete them…. But I get what you’re saying.”

“And you don’t know that will happen. The doctors also said there was a chance there won’t be any lasting effects from the lack of oxygen. He may be perfectly fine. You really need to try and not worry about it until we know for sure.”

“I know, but it’s so hard not to think about all the worst cases scenarios.”

“Yeah, well, you’re worrying for two now, and that’s not good. So, for the kid’s sake, try to not dwell on it, okay?”

You sighed heavily. “God damn it. I hate it when you’re right.”

Bucky smiled as he poked your shoulder, leaning even closer so your faces were only a few inches apart. “Ah, come on. It’s bound to happen every once and a while.”

You opened your mouth to return the witty remark, but you both froze as Flag’s vitals picked up speed, both his heart and brain monitors increasing. You ripped the IV out of your arm as you ran to look at the machines. The confusion on your face made it clear you had no idea what the read outs meant, and you rushed to the door. Bucky stood and hurried to your side as you called down the hall for a nurse. But a small groan from the bed caused you both to turn around tentatively.

Ever so slowly, Flag’s eyes flickered open. Cloudy with sleep and pain, they roamed the room, trying to get their bearings. Finally, they settled on you. Flag blinked sluggishly a few times but didn’t show any signs of recognition.

Hesitantly, you took a tiny step towards the bed, and in a small, trembling voice whispered, “Rick?”

For a moment, nothing happened. Then Flag responded in a croaky grunt, “Darlin’? I-I didn’t recognize you for a second.” It felt like all the air was sucked out of the room before…“Were you always this beautiful?”

Sobbing, you threw yourself onto your boyfriend. Flag groaned as you landed on his chest, but he held you there as you tried to pull away. “I’m so sorry,” you wailed, “I’m just-I just-Oh Rick, I thought I lost you!” Burying your face in his neck, you continued to sob uncontrollably. Bucky was actually quite amazed you were still able to produce any more tears after the sheer volume you had cried the past few days, but then again, you were always an overachiever.

Flag muttered soft reassurances to you as he stroked your hair softly, his hands shaking a little as he tried to regain control of his functions. He squeezed his eyes shut as he pressed a firm kiss to the top of your head. This moment felt so intimate and private that Bucky felt that he shouldn’t be watching it. Slowly, he began to leave the room. But just as he started shutting the door, Flag looked over and the two men made eye contact. Neither one said a word, but they both understood what the other was feeling. Flag gave a small nod, his eyes shining with joy and gratitude. And Bucky nodded back, thrilled that it seemed you were getting everything you were hoping for, and hating himself for that small feeling of disappointment deep in his chest.

He closed the door to give the loving couple some privacy and he walked down the hall. Alone once again.

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Thank you all for the support and reception to this story! I am so grateful for every like, reblog, and comment!

I have one final part in the works that should be out soon! If anyone wants to be added to the tag list for this or any of my fics, please let me know!

[neeksnorton]

I'm Ready, Mommy // Abner Krill x Reader

hi there! sorry for the delay on this story. some things came up. enjoy!!

NSFW TAGS : Femdom, multiple orgasms, pegging, mommy kink, teasing, oral sex (m receiving)

WORD COUNT : 2.4K

You walk in through the front door, exhausted from work. You kick your shoes off your feet and leave them in front of the door. You should probably put them on the mat where you and Abbie leave your shoes, but you decided against it. You were too tired; you can move the shoes later.

You toss your bag lazily on the couch, and take your blazer off. The white button up you have on is really pissing you off. You undo a couple of buttons, just to let yourself breathe a little. Sitting on the couch, you shut your eyes.

Fuck. This job was killing you. Ever since you got out of Belle Reve with Abner after the Corto Maltese situation, you got a full-time job at a tech company. It wasn’t physically demanding, but you had to use all of your brainpower at all hours of the day. And sometimes it was just a lot for you. You try your best to let your thoughts pass you like a cloud.

“Hmm, I wonder if he’s home,” you think to yourself. You couldn’t remember if today was his day off, or if it was tomorrow. He probably told you this morning, but you couldn’t remember.

Abner worked at a library part time, stacking books on the shelves. He loved it, he could escape into his own little world while doing so. Not to mention it was nice and quiet, Abner was never one for loud crowds or noises.

You hear a shuffle behind you. You peek through your eyes a little, but don’t react. He’s trying to scare you. You try to hold back a laugh. He always tries to do this with you. He’ll scare you and it ends in a play fight.

Fingers barely graze your shoulders, and you jump up and yell in Abbie’s face.

“RAHHHHH!” You scream. Abner nearly jumps out of his skin, letting out a very girly shriek.

You keel over with laughter. “Oh, fuck you.” he says while laughing. You got him so good. Normally it goes the other way.

Once you two calm down a little, he pulls you in by your waist and kisses you lightly. “How was work today?”

“Tiring,” you sigh. “It was just a lot.” you fiddle with the neckline on his t-shirt. “I just need to relieve some stress.”

“Well,” he whispers, craning down to kiss your neck lightly. “How can I help?”

This is not what you envisioned. You had the idea that you were gonna pull out your yoga mat and stretch a little. Or throw on the TV and watch Real Housewives reruns. But Abbie acting like this just made your pussy ache.

“Um…ahh-” You try to get a sentence out but it just doesn’t form. He starts kissing your collarbone, leaving a small trail of hickeys. All you wanted to do was force him onto the couch and have him under your complete control. You NEEDED this. You cradle his face in your hands and pull it back up to yours.

“Just do as I say, how does that sound?” you whisper in his ear. You feel the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

“Good.” he whimpers against your skin.

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You swipe your finger across his bottom lip, and he parts them. He was so ready for you already. He must have been eagerly waiting for you to get home. You kiss him gingerly, and slide your tongue into his mouth. You map out every inch of his mouth, even though you already knew it so well.

You move your hand off of his face and slide it under his t-shirt. Your fingers trace his happy trail, and you feel goosebumps rise up on his soft tummy. He lets a small whimper out into your mouth, and you feel your core tighten. As you move your hand up his torso, you feel the small amount of hair on his chest.

“Unhh- please…” Abbie moans. He grips your waist and digs his nails in.

You grab his hands and pull them off of you for just a moment. You lead him to the couch, and sit him down. You quickly scan his body, and your mouth almost waters. He's wearing a grey t-shirt with black jeans that show off his skinny legs and growing bulge. While sitting, his shirt is slightly lifted to show his happy trail. He’s wearing black nail polish, and his jet-black hair is slightly tousled. The sight of him like this nearly makes you cum on the spot. You wanted to take complete control of him until he couldn't take it anymore.

You stand over him on the couch. He’s breathing heavily, happily awaiting whatever you have in store for him.

You kiss his forehead, the tip of his nose, his jawline, and work your way down. He swallows hard. Your lips leave dark hickeys from his jaw down to his chest. He tries to grab the bottom of his shirt to take it off, but you swiftly grab his hands and pin them to his sides.

“No, I’m doing it.” You say sternly to him. He nods slowly.

You let his hands go for the moment, and you get to work at taking off his shirt. You pull up from the bottom and Abner lifts himself off the couch just enough to let you pull the shirt up and over his head. You kiss his chest, peppered with freckles. Then his tummy, past his navel, and right at the base of his pants. You stroke your finger across his bulge.

“Awww, you’re already so hard for me, baby.” You smile.

“Don’t tease me, Y/N, please-” He whimpers for you.

“Trust me I’m not teasing.”

You grab the sides of his pants, and he lifts his hips so you can slide them down to his ankles. He kicks off his shoes, and then his pants. Your hands roam around his hips, fiddling with the waistband of his underwear. You slide them off as well, and kiss every inch of exposed skin. His hip bones, the spots around the base of his cock. You move down and take his balls in your mouth, swirling your tongue around and sucking.

“Ohh- oh my god… oh my god please…” Abner’s lip quivered as he moaned, aching for the feeling of your warm wet mouth on his dick. And you give him EXACTLY what he wants.

You run the tip of your tongue up his shaft, and take the whole of his head in your mouth. He throws his head back and lets out a groan. You look up at him and let go of his dick, making a suction sound with your mouth.

“Unhh, do you like that baby?” You say in your most suggestive voice possible. You bite your lip and smile.

“Yes, oh my god yes. Mommy please keep going-” Your pussy clenches. You LOVED when he called you Mommy. He didn’t care about anything else but you at this moment.

“God, I love how you look when you beg, my pretty baby.”

Your lips return to his cock, and you run your tongue across his slit. He shudders. You continue to suck his dick, using your hand along with your mouth. He’s too big to take completely. You can tell he’s trying not to buck his hips into your mouth, to get all of him into you.

“Oh gosh- Mommy… Unhh- I’m so close-” You feel his cock pulse in your hand. As much as you enjoy swallowing his hot cum, you’d rather see him beg and squirm.

You stop abruptly. He snaps his eyes open and, with his mouth agape, gives you those huge puppy dog eyes you just adore.

“No- no no no, Mommy please-” He blabbers to you. You get off your knees and meet your face with his.

“Awww, does my poor baby wanna cum? Awww, that’s so cute.” You rub his cheek with your palm.

He writhes underneath you, his cock is aching for any sort of friction.

“I’ll be right back. You sit here and look pretty for me when I get back, okay?”

He nods, lip quivering. You run upstairs quickly, and open your top dresser drawer. You grab the strap-on tucked underneath your underwear. You and Abbie frequently took turns on who dommed and who subbed, so this wasn’t new behavior for the two of you. You put it on as quickly as you can, and come back downstairs.

You come back and walk behind the couch, touching his bare shoulders. He jumps a little, and looks up and sees you. His eyes light up and he smiles. As you walk around the couch and face him, your hand grazes his knee. Then up his thigh, over his hips, up his waist, then chest. You turn him onto the couch so that he’s laying down.

“Yes, Mommy, please- I’m so ready for you. Mommy-”

“Are you?” You cut him off. He whimpers and nods.

“Yes I swear- I swear I’m ready Mommy, I promise.”

“Good. Because we aren't stopping until I say so.”

You climb onto the couch and shimmy yourself in between Abbie’s legs. His legs wrap around your waist tenderly. Your jaw clenches. Every time you feel his skin on yours, it sends shockwaves to your clit. You hold out your hand to Abner’s face.

“Spit.” You command him. He spits onto your mouth and you rub it on the strap-on. You find his entrance and slowly rub the tip on it before pushing yourself fully in.

“Ohhh..Oh my god-” He moans pornographically as you fully sink into him. You moan breathily, it feels so good.

You start slow, but find a solid rhythm. Every time you pound into him, he groans with pleasure every time you hit his G-spot. All sensations are focused on your clit. It almost feels as if the strap-on is an extension of you, you can feel every single movement. You take his hands and pull his arms above his head, holding his hands above him so that he can’t move.

“M-Mommy please- I want more… please keep going- please don’t stop- Ahh…”

“God, you’re so pretty when you beg, do you want me to keep going? Tell me you want it, you fucking baby.”

“God yes, please- pretty please, Mommy…”

You pull out, let go of his hands, and roughly grab his hips. He winces at the loss of you being inside him. You flip him over onto his stomach (as best you can, he's still taller and heavier than you) and have him tuck his knees under him. You take his arms from underneath him and pin them behind his back with your hand, the other hand planted firmly on his hip.

With no mercy, you slam into him, watching as he takes every inch of your strap. He is completely submissive, blabbering at you to keep going. You loved when he called you Mommy. Because that meant he was yours.

You let go of his hip and reach under him to grab his dick. While giving him hard thrusts, you slowly jerk him off. The pleasure was nearly unbearable for him, he almost rolled his eyes back.

“He must be close,” you think to yourself. You were reaching your peak, and wouldn’t be able to last much longer.

“Do you wanna cum for me, Abbie? Unh, I bet you do, ahh-” You say in between moans.

“Yes Mommy, please let me cum, plea- ahh- oh fuck…” You move your hand faster, jerking him off, mostly at the head of his cock.

“Oh god, Mommy- I can’t h-”

You feel your muscles tighten as you and Abbie cum at the same time. You see his muscles contracting, and you feel his cock pulse in your hand. He shakes as he gets his cum on his tummy and chest. You keep jerking him off, not stopping your relentless pace.

“Mmmh- ahh, please stop Mommy, please-” he whimpers.

“Don’t you remember what I said? We aren’t done until I say we’re done. I’m sorry baby, but we have to keep going.”

“Mommy no- ahh- it’s too much…”

You begin to thrust into him again, maintaining a slow pace. Your free hand grabs at his midnight black hair, pulling his head back to face you.

“Cmon baby, I know you like it. You wouldn’t lie to your own Mommy, would you baby?”

“No Mommy, I won’t lie- ahhh… mnhh-”

You see his muscles contract once more. He’s on the verge of cumming again.

The sight of him like this is too much to handle. His hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat His back, peppered with freckles. His big strong arms pinned to his back. He’s so submissive for you. In this state, he would do anything for you. You were all he cared about. You bite your lip and groan in ecstasy.

In a split second, you switch from a slow pace to a ruthless pace, giving him no time to adjust. He nearly screams as the strap-on hit’s his G-spot perfectly. You moan breathily as you reach your second climax.

“Ah! Oh my god, Mommy, I’m gonna cum- I-”

He cums once more, as do you. You attempt to use your hand to catch any before more cum gets on him. He’s breathing extremely heavily, his back expanding and contracting with each breath. You pull out of him, and he rolls over onto his back.

As much as you want to lay down beside him, you have to clean up the mess he made. You scoot yourself backwards and lean down. You run your tongue across his tummy, licking up the cum he left there. Under his navel, on his upper stomach. You get as much as you can find and you feel goosebumps rise on his skin. Once you get all you can, you bring your face to his.

“I’m so fucking tired.” You whisper while laughing.

“That was fucking incredible, Jesus Christ.” he says back to you. He cradles your face in his big, strong hands and kisses you passionately.

“Only next time, I be in control.” God fucking damnit. You couldn’t say no to him.

You smile at him. “Fine. But you can’t deny that I don’t do my job well.” He can’t help but crack a smile, too.

“Yes, you do,” He says reluctantly but jokingly. You know he would never purposefully put you down for making him feel good. You lean into him and snuggle into his neck.

“Okay, grab the TV remote, I'm fucking exhausted. We gotta put something on.” You say.

“Fine by me.”

[one-rosy-sock]

Coming Undone | Abner Krill x fem!Reader (1/2)

Go to the {Ao3 Link} for more info...

Fandom: The Suicide Squad (2021) Rating: T (M for future chapter) Summery: You’re a psychiatrist. You should know the warning signs when a relationship with a patient is becoming problematic. But you refuse to consider this, because Abner Krill is a lot of things, and violent is not one of them. Warnings: PTSD, childhood abuse, trauma, brief mention of past suicide attempt. 

Notes: no use of y/n Disclaimer: Author is NOT a real therapist. I do not own DC comics. __ The first time you met Abner Krill, he was recommended to you by a colleague at Belle Reve.

It had been several weeks since the convicted metahumans defeated Starro, that giant one-eyed starfish. Sometimes it amazes you to no end what strange things exist in this world. The Corto Maltese coup and monster defeat held onto headlines for several weeks until the next big thing came to top it. Seeing such exciting news affect your patients wasn’t unusual, but to have a high profile patient be a part of such news was a first, you’ll admit.

As for you, well, things were pretty much the same. You see your patients during the week at your office. You’re a licensed psychiatrist, and oftentimes you see men and women who have been convicted of a felony or are ex-prisoners themselves. It wasn’t a dream job for many women, much less anyone, to counsel people so troubled. You aren’t like everyone else, though. No, you might not have x-ray vision or super strength, or any super fancy gear to punch bad guys, but you do have a gift not many have: A good ear and an open heart.

And a prescription notepad, but you are determined to make your sessions more than just a pill dispensary.

You are aware of who Abner Krill is. The Polka-Dot Man. One of the metahumans who went to Corto Maltese and defeated Starro. This has partially immortalized him in the media as a superhero, despite his past as a prisoner. Some of your patients were metahumans too, but none as powerful or as widely known as the Polka-Dot Man. His identity and those of his teammates had been concealed from the general public. As of last week, you know his real name.

His appointment’s in the morning on a Tuesday. Your secretary came by as you were straightening up your office to let you know he had arrived. You fluff the couch pillows, throw blanket over the back, tissue box on the side table, a mild scent infuser on your desk. The century-old computer at your desk whirls to cool itself off. Earlier you'd taken the time to shoot an email to Ms. Waller confirming Mr. Krill's appointment.

You follow your secretary up front. She goes to her desk and you step into the waiting room.

Though foolish, you half expected to see Abner in his super suit. The polka dot suit and headgear. Instead, he’s wearing a pair of khaki trousers that hugged high over his hips, and a somewhat flashy, silk button-up tucked neatly into the waist. And, dare you say, a fanny pack. His outfit looked straight out of the 70s or 80s. You don’t know the definitive difference between the decades. But his shirt looks clean and pressed, the collar tucked down nicely. He has one leg over a knee, bouncing it rhythmically as he watches the fish swim around the tank in the wall. It looks like he tried to read a magazine, but stopped halfway, finger wedged between the pages.

“Mr. Krill?”

He jerked in response to his name, swinging his head up with a guilty look gleaming in his eyes. You think of a puppy who’s been caught peeing on the carpet. His expression, or perhaps the way his face was structured, reminded you of a puppy too. His face was somewhat sallow, somewhat droopy. Lines indicate a lot of frowning. Like a sad, droopy cartoon dog. His face narrowed down from his eyes, making his red cupid’s bow mouth seem small. A strong, straight nose dominates his face. His big eyes seem dark and questioning. Like a scared, lost child.

Krill quickly shoots up like a bean sprout, shaking his hands out. The magazine drops to the floor. He swears, bends down to pick it up, and anxiously fusses over righting it on the coffee table. You watch the way the glossy purple cuffs wave as he moves about in jerky, quick moves.

“Good morning, doctor,” he greets warily, avoiding your gaze and staring at your shoes.

“You must be Abner,” you smile. You reach out your hand. In a painful, pregnant pause he visibly wavers as he stares at your hand as if you’d stuck out a gun at him. Finally, he reaches out to take your hand.

He has a strong grip. Sweaty hands.

Hastily, he pulls away.

“Nice to meet you. Why don’t we head on back?”

He nods. His legs are long yet his steps uncertain, reminding you of a gangly adolescent. He follows you down the hall from the waiting room and awkwardly stands by as you open the door to your private office. You hear him pat his thighs as he waits. Like a shadow, he follows and sticks close but careful not to touch. Barely making a sound.

After your office door clicks shut, the two of you sit in your respective places. Your desk chair has a high back, cloaked in a fraying, multicolor knitted throw blanket. A bit garish against the dull beige walls and simple yet whimsical desk decorations beside you. There’s a poster that reads It’s OK to feel this way: over a circle divided by colors and sections, listing different emotions.

You pull your knees up and begin to take off your shoes.

Your patient stares in visible confusion.

“Would you like to take your shoes off?” You ask, setting your shoes aside as you straighten up in your chair. “I find it easier to relax without them.”

“Um…” he trails off, his downturned mouth pursing as he considers this. The tension rolling off him makes him stiff and hard to read. All you’re getting from him so far is how much he doesn't want to be here.

You watch him while occupying your hands with things on your desk so he doesn’t feel pressured to make a decision. From the corner of your eye, you watch him swallow, Adam's apple bobbing, and he slowly reaches down to untie and slip off his oxford shoes. He sets them neatly beside his feet. Hands tucked in his lap, sock feet on the ground. Looking up at you somewhat imploringly.

“This is a safe space, Abner,” you smile at him. You have your clipboard and pen in your lap, but you make yourself relaxed and as welcoming as you can. Note-taking can be done later. Visibly, at least. Don’t want to make him think you’re already assessing him before y'all begin to talk. Can’t force him to talk.

Ex-prisoners often struggle with reforming to civilization after release. He couldn’t be forced to attend therapy here despite the outside forces that pressured him to. If he wanted to walk out, he could. Abner was so tense he seemed to be walking on eggshells. He struggled to relax his shoulders, like his limbs were too long for his body. During all this, he hadn’t met your gaze one.

“Whatever we talk about won’t leave this room, unless, for instance, you said you plan to hurt yourself or someone else.”

This gets a reaction out of him. A grimace, a shake of his head. “No, I wouldn’t…”

“Of course not. You’re a superhero now, right?”

He grins. It’s brief, boyish, sheepish. He’s studying the design of your clothes. You consider that progress from your feet.

“You were recommended to me by Dr. Rooney at Belle Reve,” you begin conversationally, baldly, wanting to get a feel of where he was coming from. Your colleague had said Krill was not a violent inmate, but was often verbally bullied by other prisoners. He tended to avoid crowds, thus mostly avoided. More than once he had been on suicide watch. Casually, you glance down at your clipboard. Born in Philadelphia to Augustine Krill--father unknown--and tried and convicted for first-degree murder as an adult in the city of Metropolis. He was incarcerated at Belle Reve shortly after turning eighteen. He was in his early forties now.

You look back up at Abner. He had that sad puppy dog look again, staring at nothing in particular with his neck hunched.

“Did you and Dr. Rooney get along?”

“D-Doesn’t your notes say?”

You make a face. “I want to know what you think of Rooney, not what he thinks.”

Abner didn’t answer right away. “He was okay.”

“Okay,” you echo, licking your bottom lip as you cock your head up. “Okay is better than nothing.”

“We mostly spoke about my mother.”

“Oh?”

“She experimented on me and my siblings. She wanted us to become superheroes,” he said. His voice held much more confidence than anything he’d said so far, but his expression remained unchanged. It was because he kept words void of emotion.

“I see.” Yes, you did see. You had anticipated the topic of his mother coming up if you didn’t ask him about it first in future sessions. Dr Krill was listed in his files as a scientist at S.T.A.R. Labs, and having six children whom lived on site with her. CPC had been called a few times, rebuffed every time by various means other than being convinced nothing was wrong. The whole thing was fishy, especially after the untimely deaths of three of Dr. Krill’s children. The whereabouts of the other Krill children were unknown. All investigations into S.T.A.R. Labs had been terminated by higher powers, even after Abner’s arrest and psychological evaluation.

Abner continues, to your surprise. “I pictured Starro as my mother.”

“You did?”

“It makes it easier, when I convince myself that my enemy is her. I don't like killing.”

You pick up your pen and tap your lip, looking down at the way he was fidgeting his feet. “Did you regret killing your mother”

Abner’s knee stopped bouncing. “No.”

“Do you regret killing the other scientists at S.T.A.R. Labs? The--”

Abner grimaced and brought his hands to his head, tugging on fistfulls of black hair. “I-I didn’t mean--I-I--”

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to answer that today,” you placate with a soft tone, putting down your pen, fingers rubbing along the edge of your clipboard. After a moment of heated silence, you set your things down on the desk and stand up. This makes your patient crumble in on himself, trying to hunch low enough to shield some blow. You smile sadly where he can’t see. “Abner, do you see my poster here? With all the emotions?”

He looks back up, glancing from you to said poster. His attention is answer enough.

“Whatever you feel in this room is valid to you and to me. Not now, but in the future I’d like for you to give me short but detailed descriptions to how you feel on certain things. It's okay to say something you think is taboo or unorthodox. This room doesn't have ears or a head to judge. Do you think you can do that?”

The couch makes no sound as he moves to better see the circle chart of words. Timidly, he nods.

“Great,” you smile sadly and sit back down. “Let’s get back to that later. Today, I’d like to talk about something other than your mother.”

Abner tilts his head. You must be doing something to exceed his expectations, because now he’s looking at you and not at you. “The Corto Maltese mission?”

“No. I want to know about you. I want to talk about Abner Krill. Who are you?”

His blank stare makes your heartache a little for him.

The following silence, where all you can hear is his ragged breath, the whirl of the monitor, and the soft mist of the incense humidifier, is thick. You can cut it with the tip of your pen. The sound of his voice as he speaks is almost staggering. "I am... I am my mother's son."

“No."

He flinches.

"Your mother does not define you. What you think about your mother and how you feel about her should not determine your sense of self or your future. You liked defeating that monster, right?”

Abner nods.

“You’re a superhero because you took action, not because she moved your hand. What you say here today, and any day, should be the same. Do you think you can do this for me?”

“I don’t understand…”

“I want to know the real Abner,” you smile. “Not Dr. Krill’s son.”

He still can’t make eye contact. The fidgeting starts back up. “But, what I am is because of her.”

“Not unless you choose otherwise. Starting today, you and I are going to help define Abner Krill. First, you are not your mother’s son.”

“But I am?”

“No. You are not your mother’s son. You’re Abner Krill, superhero. What does Abner Krill the superhero like to do?”

Understanding slowly started to dawn on him, visible in his eyes as he lifted his slanted brows. Recovering from trauma was no walk in the park, but the two of you had to start somewhere. Rooney over-fixated on Abner’s fixation on his mother and the abuse, and after years of obsessing over it to “fix” him, it seemed to become all Abner could think about. No one had really given him proper trauma recovery therapy, or helped to treat his PTSD. You wanted him to take the first step into self-evolution. No one could do it for him. You want him to define himself other than his mother’s son. Seeing himself as a superhero was perhaps the start of it.

“I-I don’t know,” he frowned. “I like to read…”

“That’s great!” Your enthusiasm startles him. “What sort of things do you like to read?”

“Well… Ah, I-I uh... I like the classics….”

The rest of your session with Abner was mostly casual. The safe topics you steered him to visibly made the man relax. He spoke about the fictional worlds he enjoyed immersing himself in. He liked the classics because they were “soft”. Sweet romances where the only real worries were who’s going to the ball. He didn't like tragedies or novels about war or great violence. With some coaxing, he opens up to talk about his favorite foods, animals, celebrities, songs-- You ask about his (non-virus related) talents or any hobbies he might’ve picked up at the prison or since he’s been out. Steering him away from the topic of his mother confused him in the beginning, leading you to assume he had anticipated mostly speaking about her. He’d been prepared like he might prepare to go into battle.

You know he won’t be able to just brush his mother aside; his virus was because of Dr. Krill. He blamed his 20+ years of incarceration at Belle Reve on his mother’s experimentations. He blamed himself. He hated her. He hated himself. Feared her. Feared himself. It was an inner wound that would never heal, you know this without a doubt, but you hope with time it becomes easier to manage as he takes control and independence of his new life.

“Did you ever go to school, Abner?”

The phantom smile on his face falls, but you haven’t lost him as he turns to you. Looks at your shoulder. “No. We--my siblings and I--were… homeschooled.”

“Right. Well, you at least know what homework is?”

“Yes. Of course. Am--Do you want me to--?”

With a hand gesture you hope is placating, you smile and gently cut him off. “Don’t worry, I’m not assigning you an essay to write or a month-long project to present. I’m not that cruel,” you chuckle. “But I am going to push you a little. Can you try that for me?”

He looks as if you’ve asked him to consider sacrificing his firstborn. Thankfully, he nods as he plucks a loose string off his knee.

“I want to see you biweekly, so schedule with Patrica upfront. Maybe this Friday or Saturday?”

“I-I can do that, yes ma’am.”

"Now, it's your choice to come back or not but it would make me really happy if you did."

His back straightens. "Yes. I'll be here."

“Beautiful, Abner. Beautiful. Sometime this week I’d like you to do something you normally wouldn't do. Go on a hike, join a gym, take a class on cooking or arts and crafts. It can be simply looking up a food recipe you’ve never tried before and making it. Tell me about your experience. If you’re around strangers, how is your relationship with them? If you see something new, how does it make you feel? This isn’t an order, Abner, just a… strong suggestion, mm? All I’m asking is for you to do something new and spontaneous. It can be at home or outside. Your choice.”

Abner licked his lips. It had taken a great deal of effort to convince him to come here at all today. Today is the first time speaking to him, but you’ve had his file for a few days now. You’re a little grateful for that. There was a lot to read. However, it took outside forces such as one Amanda Waller and fellow ex-prisoner teammates to get him to come here. You suspect someone dropped him off if he didn’t take a cab himself. He had no driver's license.

“Ah… Okay. Um, yes miss. Ma'am. Doctor! Ah--”

“You can call me by my name,” you reassure, tilting your head to him. “This is a safe space for you and I. We may be doctor and patient outside that door, but here, we can be as familiar with each other as we'd like. Like old friends.”

He turned to you with a look that sent a thunderbolt of sensation down your spine. Surprise, awe. A silent question gleamed in his puppy-dog eyes. He doesn't respond, brows raised high as he just stares at you.

You cover for his lapse. “I’ll see you in a few days. It was wonderful to finally meet you, Abner,” you say, looking at him without pretenses to hopefully show your honesty. He had an incredible gift that could help save a lot of people, and from what you've learned from recent character evaluations on him he had the makings of a fine superhero. First thing first, he needed to adjust to civilian life after years of being locked up, and years of having nothing but unresolved trauma. All the while, you hold back a rueful smile at his demeanor. You won't say it aloud of course, but he was so cute. Idly, you wonder about his sexuality- but you can ask that another day. For now you wanted him to be a little more daring to try new things and focus on something other than his mother.

You stand up and shake his hand. His grip is a little looser this time, lingering longer, but he moves away quickly, gathers his shoes, and you see him out. His scurrying reminds you of a startled elk. Large yet quick, stumbling over his long legs. Running from you as if you held a rifle instead of a purple glitter clipboard.

It was hard to believe this man had committed mass homicide.

[babblydrabbly]

A fic where Abner meets Y/N's younger sister (and he his super nervous) but when they meet, she tells him he is her favorite super hero

A Welcome Home (Abner Krill x Reader)

Pairing: Abner Krill x Neutral!Reader

Warnings: Language. Injury mention. Kissing. Pure fluff again! Loving it <3 Canon divergence obvs.

Wordcount: 1k+

[ A/N: Whoa! This turn into a lil fic of its own! Like I've said. It's a good thing no one on the squad died and everyone lived happily ever after :) Metahuman!Reader. ]

Fic Wishes Meme

Abner is smoothing his hair down again as you both wait for the door to open. You arch a brow at him and quirk a smile.

"What are you doing?"

He swallows. "Just...wished I looked a little more presentable."

You look at the pair of you in the front door window. Between you and Abner, there's plenty of blood, debris and rips in your uniforms that make you stick out like sore thumbs standing there on the neighborhood stoop.

You didn't think first— When Starro's arm came down, you had flung yourself at Abner with all your strength, slamming him out of the way of the creature. When the rats had stopped scurrying over you, when the smoke had cleared, you breathed a sigh of relief that Abner was beside you, alive.

He stood there, looking a little lost when DuBois, Cleo, Harley, and even Nanaue had parted ways, all with their own journeys ahead of them now that you were free. He avoided your gazed, his arms folded over his chest until you finally stepped toward him, taking his chin between your fingers.

"I don't have anywhere to go." He murmured, still not looking at you.

You sighed sadly in agreement, nodding your head.

"Looks like you're just gonna have to come home with me."

Home is a two story in Gotham City, sandwiched between a dilapidated apartment complex and liquor store that's been open longer than you've been alive. You have to kick the plastic toys and things away from the door in order to stand before it properly, the doorbell still so rusty you have to push it extra hard just hear it ring once.

"You're nervous." You note with a sly smile. The expression draws his attention, his face flushing as he pulls away from your tender gaze.

"Don't be." You say, just as the door flings open. Abner doesn't have time to startle before a pair of short, small arms are wrapping themselves around his middle, a tiny face peering up at him with big eyes.

"It's you!" Your little sister cries. "You're the popadot man!"

"Polka Dot Man. And where's my hug, you little cretin?" You snatch her up, tossing her over one shoulder as you step inside the house. You watch Abner hesitate in the threshold, his body half in and half out of your home.

"Did you... tell her about me?" He wonders as he gazes around at the messy foyer. There's stomping upstairs, the rush of children at play. In the kitchen, something strong and comforting wafts over to the pair of you, and your stomach growls.

You set your sister down, shrugging. "Nope."

"You were on the tv!" She explains. She reaches out and jabs a finger at one of the dots on Abner's uniform. "You were all woosh! With the dots— And then [Y/n] was all bam bam bam with her punching! You looked cooler though."

You wiggle a finger in her ear, making her squirm away. "Thanks a lot."

Your sister moves over to Abner again. There's a sincerity to her face that sudden makes him want to shy away. But he stands there, polite as ever, his hands cupped together in an awkward, patient stance.

"You're my favorite superhero now." She declares, and your eyes flicker over to Abner just in time to see his widen, a flush creeping back into his cheeks.

"Alright, little brat. Tell everyone else we're home." You instruct, scooting her along.

In total, the house had seven kids now, two more than when you left it for your sentence at Belle Reve. You'd been gone two years, and now you were back— With a boy, no less. The collective teasing left Abner embarrassed to no end, but you shrugged with confidence, telling them that you don't just bring any boys home.

"You've never brought anyone home, ever." You adoptive mother points out with a knowing smile. She asks no questions about prison, about the mission that had been broadcast for the world to see— Doesn't need to know. She tells the two of you to wash up before dinner; If anything, you kind of wished she would ask about the squad just so you didn't have to hear her tell you that they must not have had a good cook at Belle Reve— You and Abner were far too gaunt for her liking.

"It's prison, Ma." You mutter, rolling your eyes.

She ignores you, setting a plate heavy with rice and meat and vegetables in front of Abner. "Hope you like to eat." She tells him.

Abner gets about two bites in before stopping, the rest of the table scarfing down their food as he gets up to excuse himself suddenly.

You debate on whether on not you should give him a moment, before you glance at your mother, who nods encouragingly.

You find Abner in your old room, on the bottom bunk where you used to share your bed with your sister. He fidgets at his bare wrists, his gauntlets set down beside him. You move them carefully before taking a seat.

"Is this okay?" You ask softly. "I... probably should have warned you how crazy it is here."

Abner smiles faintly. He looks around the messy room, shaking his head. "It's alright." He begins. "I— ...I just didn't expect it to remind me so much of my own house. The one I grew up in, I mean."

You blink, frowning. "I'm so sorry, Abner, I didn't think—"

"In a good way." He clarifies, looking at you. Abner turns to you, his knee nudging yours. "In the best ways, I mean. My house... was like this one, some days."

He'd told you the worst parts. Parts he never told the others while you were still trekking through the jungle. For a horrified moment, you think this was all a bad idea— Throwing him into something that reminded him of his own family.

You're surprised when he takes your hand carefully, like you might vanish if he grasps it too solidly. You turn your palm up, lacing your fingers with his.

"You didn't have to bring me." He murmurs.

You revel in the way you can make Abner's breath hitch with just the faintest brush of your lips to his. You press them more firmly to him again when he sighs contentedly, his eyes fluttering shut. You hum in approval when his other hand comes up to cup your cheek, his touch feather light.

"Gross! [Y/n] and Pompado are being gross!"

Abner tears away from you, his face redder than one of his polka dots. You growl at the door as you throw a squishy pillow out into the hall, missing the little heads that retreat.

"Get outta here, you monsters! Before I feed you to the giant starfish!"

Fic Wishes Meme

[superlinn02]

Polkadot man x fem reader (part 1)

Obs:this story doesn't contain any mentions of she or her but it is implied that you start at the female part of the prison just like ratchatcer

Info:this will probably have some spelling mistakes because English is not my first language. This story might not be great because it's my first in awhile. Thanks for understanding

You shouldn't be here, you didn't fit in here. Well at least that's what you think, the ones that put u in this God forsaken prison seemed to think otherwise. I men sure you killed a cupel of people but they were gonna kill you first they just didn't get the chance.

Either way now you were stuck in this shit hole, not that living in the streets of Gotham were much better but at least you where free there. Here you were still the outcast you were out in Gotham, no friends and people acted like you didn't exist but that was all you had ever known so you didn't mind too much.

But then the day came, Waller walked in and apparently you were now part of a team. They all looked like idiots in your opinion well at least the ones you have meet so far, peacemaker, bloodsport and king Shark you thought their names were. Cleo you already knew of, not that u had ever talked to her,and that was it you thought until Waller backtracked to the guys wing again.

The man in front of u looked sad and if the eyes truly were the window's too one's soul, his showed everything about him at least to you. The frown on your face was probably very visible when you realized that all the information you were gonna get about this man was that they call him polkadot man. How was that fair even you had gotten more of an introduction and their really wasn't much to say.

The debriefing came and went and now you were sat between cleo and Abner krill as you learnt his name was in the helicopter. It was pretty awkward and your social awkwardness didn't help at all so you let the others handel the talking.

"so what do we do when we land?" it was Cleo asking.

"we won't land, we are gonna jump into the water. Less noise." peacemaker answered fast. One could easily tell he wanted to be the leader but had to deal with not getting his way.

Abner hadn't really talked efter telling you all his name but then again neither had you. But hearing the word swimming made that change real quick.

"whoa! whoa! Hold up nobody said anything about swimming!" you quickly stated before anyone could change subject again.

"yes, you have a problem with that?" this time it was bloodsport that answered.

"no, I just don't like getting wet." you said while looking at your hands. You didn't really want anyone of these "super villians" to know you were a bad swimmer.

You didn't get to dwell on it for too long however because in the corner of your eye you saw a small movement. You shifted so you could get a closer look at what was happening only to see Abner trying his best to hide something on his neck.

You were about to ask him if he was okay but before you could get the chance it was time to get in the water. It went surprisingly well, at least thats what you thought. You probably looked like you were in fact drowning, but at least you made it. You all made it to the shoore and went on to make camp.

You were at the back of the group on the way to your camp spot and that's when you saw it. Abner neck had a bump, that wasn't the weird thing however, nope the weird thing was that it was glowing a in your opinion quite beautiful blue.

"hey, are you okay?" you wisper to him. You didn't wanna make a big deal out of it, but something in you at least wanted to make sure he was okay.

He seemed to freeze up before a quick yes escaped his lips and he continued walking without so much as looking at you.

It may have seemed rude to others but you didn't mind. He seems like a withdrawn kind of person but so were you so you completely understood. However, much to your dismay and probably Abners too the others in your little group also noticed what had happened to Abner.

"hey! What happened to your face?" peacemaker asked seeming more concerned over himself other than Abner.

"it's just a rash" it came out fast and quiet, as if Abner were scared that if he talked louder something bad would happen.

"that's a rash?!" it was peacemaker again seemingly more self concerned then before.

Not much more was said about the subject and that seemed to please Abner. You however was curious now and hade to at least try and get him to talk to you. There was something about him that was drawing you in, something that actually made you want to get to know him be his friend. Hmm a friend now that wasn't something you had a lot of.

The campsite was not much of a campsite at all but you felt it better to keep your mouth shut. But this felt like the perfect moment to get to know Abner or anyone in this squad for that matter. However when you turn to look for Abner he was gone, probably took the first opportunity that he got to get away a bit. So you decided to see what Cloe aka ratchatcer 2 was up too.

Not before long everyone except you seemed to be sleeping. You were sitting on a log staring at the scenery when a rustel startled you. Your eyes snapped to Abners sleeping bag only to see that the bumps hade been growing and started to disform his pretty face... Wait pretty? When was that something you thought about anyone? Maybe being doomed to die did something to you.

But you didn't get to dwell on it for too long because as quickly as he hade moved he had moved on to the bushes right besides your camp. You were thinking about going after him and make sure he was okay but you didn't even get the chance to stand up before a rainbow of sorts seemed to be coming frome the bush.

Without even noticing you where sneeking closer and closer to what you assumed was Abner. You got about halfway there before he came back out looking exactly like at the prison before you left,well expect he had his undershirt on instead of his costume.

"are you okay? And I don't want you to brush it off this time." in hindsight you maybe sounded a little demanding but you didn't like death so you wanted to make sure.

"yes, I comes with my powers. It won't infect you I promise." his answer shocked you. Had nobody cared about him and just asked because they were scared? That didn't sit right with you at all.

"I wasn't asking because I was afraid, I was asking because I don't want you dead." you said that and then immediately regretted it. You didn't meen to sound so concerned and scared but in truth you were, so you guessed that was the reason.

However neither you nor Abner didn't get to think on it, because one of your team mates tried to eat another one of your team mates. The shark still scared you a bit but he seemed to agree to not eat you so it was a step in the right direction. That didn't mean you weren't taking precautions, you took your sleeping bag and moved it to where Abner was sleeping.

In the morning you were surprised to wake up to brown eyes watching you. It didn't make you uncomfortable at all, it made you feel seen and in a weird kinda way you hoped he would look at you more. But he didn't seem the kind to like eye contact.

The moment however was quickly broken by bloodsport yelling to get up and get our asses on the move. Apparently we were to find someone named Rick Flag. The camp he was being held at wasn't to far away and when you got there you weren't surprised that bloodsport and peacemaker were having some kind of killing contest.

You didn't do much because of your dislike to killing people so while they were brutally making their way through camp you quietly followed after. But you got wreckless and when you though everyone was dead you went out in the open. That was your mistake because a second later you heard guns clocking and people saying stuff you couldn't understand. You really thought this was it your last time on earth your last living moment, and your eyes went to his. At the time you didn't know why but it felt right.

His eyes weren't on you tho, no they were focused on something behind you. Before you knew what was happening he moved and stretched out his arms. Out of them came what you could only discribe as polkadots, quite beautiful if you got to say so.

You could only hear the comotion behind you and then the world was quiet again. Your eyes never left him and you could only wagly hear peacemakers comment about the polkadots. You desperately wanted to thank Abner in whatever way you could. But the moment was cut short by Abner himself.

"sorry it's so flamboyant" was all he said still not really looking at anyone.

"I think it's beautiful" you heard yourself say. You wanted to smack your hand over your mouth but the words had already left so what was the point.

Everyone else didn't really seem too care and quickly went to check on flag. And when you also started to turn around and leave, you chought his eyes again but only for a moment. You could feel your cheeks getting warm at that, damn him and his pretty eyes! But that also when you heard it, so quiet but still there.

"do you really mean that?" it was Abner, still behind you but seemingly closer.

"Of course I do, I may be the bad guy but a lier I am not." you said while turning to face him again. When you saw his face again you gave him a smal smile but a genuine one, then turned around to meet this new person you had never herd of before.

[jonogueirawrites]

Ipê Branco.

AO3

Tags: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Angst, Fluff, Jealousy, Slow Burn (ish), Smut, Dubious Consent, Sex Pollen, Rick Flag Lives, Peacemaker dies, Happy Ending.

Chapter 1.

Chapter 15 – Unwanted Sun.

Summary: Prim comes to Rick at the kidnappers' camp, but what she finds causes conflicting feelings to grow in her heart. Fear, frustration, and something else, darker. Rick is happy to see that Prim is alive and well. He also discovers that he's not the only one with feelings... even if those feelings are not what he was expecting. But it's Prim who sets the tone for their relationship going forward.

T.W.: Smut / Jealousy.

Bloodsport held Prim’s arm and pulled her for a brief conversation a few meters from Rick's captors' camp. “I know you want to go in there and kill them all, but we need to do this quietly.”

“I can be really quiet when I have to.” Prim looked him dead in the eyes and down to his hand around her forearm.

Bloodsport tried to organize his words in a way he wouldn’t provoke her. “I know you can. What I’m trying to say is that your emotions are all over the place.” Prim opened her mouth to protest, but he interrupted her. “I understand, I do. But if anything goes wrong. Just for an instant, imagine if anything goes wrong and they hear us coming. What do you think is going to happen to Rick?”

Prim clenched her jaw. Bloodsport could see the cogs turning in her head until she released the breath she had been holding. “You’re right. It’s just that….” She cleaned the sweat from her face. “If anything happens to him, I-”

“Nothing is going to happen.” He gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. “Let us take care of this, okay?”

“I’m not going to sit here and wait!”

“Of course not! I want you to create distractions around the camp. We’ll take advantage of it and kill them for you. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good. Yeah.”

“Right. Now take Cleo and Abner with you and go that way. Peacemaker and I will split here.”

“Okay. What about Nanaue?”

They all looked at King Shark playing with a bug near them. “He can do his own thing. Quietly.” Bloodsport emphasized.

At the end of their conversation, they went their separate ways.

From a distance, Prim could see Peacemaker and Bloodsport in their little competition to see who would kill more people and be the best assassin , which stoked the flame of anger inside her. Moving forward, Prim engaged in a brief fight with three enemies. She urged Cleo and Abner to go ahead.

The pair went ahead, and she engaged the fighters one by one, sneaking her vines around the neck of one man and lifting him to the treetop. The other had his ankles held and thrown against a tree. The last one tried to flee, but Prim used her vine like a whip and split his head in two. Panting and feeling enraged because they dared to delay her, she marched to meet the others.

The team members, minus Prim, gathered at the tent entrance. With slow and quiet steps, they reached the flap, and before Bloodsport opened it, allowing everyone to get in, they heard a woman’s joyful laughter. When they stormed the place, all they could hear was the rhythm of ‘Samba Na Sola’ by Céu.

“DuBois?” Rick’s voice cut the tension in the air.

Still with guns raised and the team behind him ready to fight, Bloodsport answered, “Hey, Flag.”

With a puzzled expression, Rick questioned further. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Waller told us you were… uh… Are you drinking tea?”

“This is Sol Soria. She’s the leader of the freedom fighters, the resistance trying to take down the current government. They saved my life.”

Lowering his gun, the only thing he could say was, “Oh, wow,” before turning to the other members, “Someone’s going to be pissed.”

“Who are you talking about?” Rick asked, his body tensed.

“Well, You see-”

Prim ripped open the tarp where Nanaue had his head and stared inside. Her fear-filled eyes fell on Rick’s confused ones. In no more than three seconds, she assessed the situation around and closed her eyes, cursing herself. She stalked off with hate irradiating from her.

Giving no one an explanation, Rick went after her. He had to make his way through the dense vegetation before he could get close to her. “Wait! Prim!” He cursed when the small tree branch hit him in the face. Fuck. “Prim!”

They ended up in a small clearing, and Rick held her hand, making her stop. “Take your hands off me.” Why did she worry about him when he clearly didn’t need her? Had he ever needed her? She tried her best to get rid of his grasp, but he squeezed it further, pushing her against a tree.

“Listen to me!” He grabbed both her arms, obligating her to look at him.

She averted from his gaze. “I don’t want to!”

“Please, Prim.” His voice loaded with pleading. “Just, please…” He held her by the waist and buried his nose in her leaves-tangled hair. He was grateful to have her safe in his arms again.

Prim tried to resist but ended up with her face hidden on his chest. She inhaled, filling her lungs, trying to get her shit together. He smelt of sweat and home. Longing and peace. “I thought I had lost you.” Her voice as small as their presence in the forest. “I couldn’t….” She sobbed. “I can’t bear the thought of losing you… any of you.”

Rick cupped her face with trembling hands, lifting her head to look at him. “I’m here.” He cleaned the tears on her cheeks. His finger ghosted the cut on her chin. “I’m here.” He tucked her hair behind her ear.

“I know.” She relaxed her shoulders and held his forearms. Sliding her hands up to his fingers on her neck. “Waller said you got taken, and they were dangerous people. She told us to kill them all….”

“Waller is a manipulative bitch.” His thumbs massaging her jaw. Rick felt Prim calm down in his arms. Her mouth curved into a beautiful smile.

“I know.” She giggled in agreement.

“Look at me.” He asked with gentleness in his voice. His eyes traveling her face. Admiring the shape of her eyes, the curves of her nose, the bewitching way her lips teased him.

Prim did as she was told, and she too observed him. Her fingers traced his eyebrows, his nose, and his lips. “Rick,” she whispered, afraid he would hear her. Her parted lips craving his.

Cupping her face, he declared, “I’m here.” He kissed the top of her head and then her forehead. His lips touched both of her closed eyes with extreme care and went down to the tip of her nose. He skipped the place both wanted with desperation in their hearts. He caressed the cut on her chin with his nose. “I’m here,” he whispered in her mouth and approached his lips to hers, with no hurry in his movement.

His lips touched hers in a ghost of a kiss, barely there. He moved his head to the other side and did it once more, resting his forehead on hers. When he placed his nose beside hers, he heard a soft whimper escaping her lips. Her warm breath tickling his face. Rick brushed his thumb over her lower lip through the tiny space separating their kiss. “I’m always here, Prim.” His nose rubbed against hers. His fingers traveled to her nape, wrapping her curls around them and pulling her close. “Always here.”

He kissed her.

It was like eating cotton candy. Sweet and soft. His lips touched hers, afraid she would vanish. When she opened her mouth to welcome him, he felt at peace. In the only place he had ever belonged. Rick kissed Prim like he had never kissed before. He pulled her face up and deepened the kiss. He wanted to feel her, taste her, live with her.

A future with her flashed before his eyes, and he let his mind chase that dream. His hand trailed her neck all the way down to her lower back and brought her closer to him. A soft moan escaped her, and he pushed her body against the tree. His knee pressed between her legs that parted without reservation. He lifted her and placed her on his thigh. The pressure on her clit made her moan and bite his lower lip.

Prim moved her hips in a circular motion to feel more pressure and heard Rick grunt on her mouth. She held him with a hand on his neck and the other in his hair. His fingers followed the skin on the back of her thigh, leaving a trail of burning desire. They held and squeezed her hip and rested on the small of her back, pulling her down against him.

Rick parted from her lips and bit her chin. Kissing the crook of her neck and biting the skin under her jaw. His huffs and grunts on her ear pushed her over the edge, and she trembled in his embrace. “Rick,” she purred, and felt his lips envelop hers once more and his whole body shaking soon after.

They panted in each other’s mouth, not wanting to part or leave. They had been playing a game for the last months, from which none would ever emerge as the winner, and wanted to rest in the warmth of the other. Rick looked at Prim and saw nothing but his own reflection in her eyes. The only thing he could think about was if the love he saw in them was his or also hers. Maybe from both of them?

Prim smiled at him. She looked tired but pleased. Rick felt her fingers caressing his arm up and couldn’t stop the flinch and grunt that escaped his mouth when she brushed the dressing on his right shoulder.

“I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay. Sol helped me take care of the cut when they saved me from the ambush….”

For a reason Prim could not understand or pinpoint, she felt her jaw clenching. Her eyes stared at his shoulder, and all she could think about was the woman’s fingers touching him. Her teeth ground together, sending an immediate sharp pain to her head. Rick was still speaking, it was clear because his lips were moving, but her mind ignored his words. Instead, her brain decided to focus on the imaginary flirty laughter of an unknown woman.

Prim noticed him trying to get her attention back to him, but all she could think about was the woman touching him. “Yeah, yeah. Sure.” She didn’t try to hide her disinterest. Pushing him away from her and adjusting her dress, she saw Rick lost in confusion. “We better get back. The others are waiting for us.” And with that, she headed back to Sol’s camp. Her mind screaming and fuming. She wanted nothing but to go home.

Rick watched Prim walk away from him. What the fuck? What had happened? One minute she was content in his arms. The next, she pushed him away and pretended like nothing had happened…

If Rick was confused about Prim's feelings towards him before, her behavior there enhanced his turmoil. Every time they were together, she seemed to want him as much as he wanted her. Wasn’t she desperate to find him? Scared she had lost him? Crying because, in her own words, she couldn’t bear the thought of losing him? No!

Rick marched until he stood in front of her. His body towered over her and blocked her way. What was that he saw in her eyes? Was it...? No, it couldn’t be.

“What is wrong with you?” He spoke from all his height. Watching her small figure standing below him.

“Excuse me?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

He huffed. “You know very well what I’m talking about.”

“Look, Rick.” She ran her fingers over her hair. “I’m sure the others are worried. Let’s be on our way.” Her voice strained, and she cleaned the dirt from her dress, trying to ignore the trembling on her hands.

“No.”

“No?” She tilted her head, searching his face for an answer.

Rick took a step closer. Not enough to enter her personal space, but enough to make her uncomfortable. “Not long ago, you were in my arms. Kissing me like there was no tomorrow.” Another step. “Moaning my name and holding me closer.” One more step, and he was all over her. “What the fuck, Prim?”

“What do you want me to say?” She balled her fists by her sides.

Rick bent to level with her. “The truth would be great.”

“The truth?” She asked, disbelieving. “You talk as if I was the one who walked away….” Prim closed her eyes. “You know what, Mr. Colonel Flag? There is something called attraction and loneliness.” She placed her hands on her hips. “We both feel them and can’t deny them. But don’t worry, I know exactly where I stand in your life.” She looked up at him and saw the deep frown on his face.

“Where you-”

“Let’s be professionals about it, okay?” She readjusted her clothes and hair. Ignoring his half question. “I’m sure Sol is waiting for you.” She rolled her eyes. She didn’t mean to, but it seemed her emotions were in command.

“Wait a minute.” He smiled and chuckled. He covered his mouth with his hand in surprise. “Are you jealous?” He searched her features for any sign that he was right.

Prim blinked several times before frowning. “What?”

“You are, aren’t you?” He looked all smug from up there, where he stood tall.

Prim laughed. And it wasn’t her usual laughter. The trees around them shook from their roots to their tops, and the birds joined her sounds as well. She rested her hand on his arm and bent when she had trouble breathing. “Are…” she wheezed. “Are you kidding me?” It took her some time to control herself again. “You must be!” She cleaned a tear from her face. “Oh, creators. That was a good one, Mr. Colonel Flag.” Without looking at his face, she circled him and headed to camp.

Rick was dumbfounded. Could he be that wrong about her? Did he just make a fool of himself? Of course, he did. Why on earth would she be jealous for him? Him! He pinched the bridge of his nose and followed her. Fuck!

Prim walked ahead because she was afraid he would call her bluff if he gave her a good look. Was she jealous for him? Of fucking course, she was! Why wouldn’t she be? The image of that woman touching him flashed before her eyes again, and she felt heat rising from her feet. Bitch!

She apologized in silence. It wasn’t her fault. It was no one’s fault a handsome, sexy man would up and appear in their lives. Turn things upside down and make them question everything. Shit! Prim needed to get her shit together and not let anyone see what was happening inside her heart and mind. Something dark growing in her soul.

They reached the camp, and the others were gathered inside the main tent. Bloodsport exchanged glances with Rick while he explained the situation, and they decided to move on. Outside, the mercenary approached Prim and asked if everything was okay, to which she replied with a “Peachy!”

The team and the resistance got ready to leave, and Prim watched from the sidelines Sol give Rick a yellow t-shirt with the cutest bunny she had ever seen. In its hand a sign saying ‘obstáculos son oportunidades’. Prim looked at it and wondered if she should follow the little animal’s advice.

She lifted her eyes from his t-shirt to his face, and there was a fluttering in her stomach. He stared at her with the usual intensity. She averted her gaze before he read too much in her eyes. Finally pieced the pieces together and realized she was madly in love with him.

Shit, Rick! Why did you have to be so sexy and hot and… perfect? Everything I always wanted for me.

Rick sighed from the other side of the camp when Prim averted from his gaze. His heart hammered in his chest when she looked at him. Her laughter echoed in his ears, and the hope insisted on not dying fractured. You want to be professional? Then so be it! The anger that filled his soul wrapped its dark, cold tendrils around his heart and called it home.

Thank you for reading.

Next chapter.

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

Wallflower

Pairing: Pre!Abner Krill x Nicole Blake

Summary: Nic doesn’t enjoy crowds, but enjoys Abner’s company

Tag List: @heavenshipped @hyperionshipping @fangs-and-blades @withlovefromlyell

Warnings: Major spoilers for The Sui/cide Squad; alcohol mention

Nic didn’t even realize they arrived at the club until the minibus was parked. She watched as everyone aside from Nanaue climbed out but she remained in her seat. The group paused as Rick and Bloodsport looked back at her.

“Boom-Boom, aren’t you coming?” Rick asked, crossing his arms.

Nic clenched her fists at the nickname. “No, I’d rather wait in here with the shark.”

“Oh no, you’re coming inside with us.” Bloodsport ordered as he shook his head.

“Mmm, I don’t think so,” she shook her head back.

“We’re a team, we need to stick together,” Rick told her.

“In other words, you’re coming. Now get out of the fucking bus,” Bloodsport said.

Nic rolled her eyes but started to climb out. As she stepped out she tightened the straps on her gloves. “Great idea, guys. Bring the girl who blows things up with her hands into a loud, obnoxious club full of drunk people.”

Once she was sure the gloves were secure, she crossed her arms and joined the group. Nic quickly became thankful for the cover of night when she noticed Abner in his disguise. Her face grew warm and red at how cute she thought he looked. Instead Nic looked away and slowly followed the team.

When they entered the club, her senses were immediately overwhelmed by the smell of booze and sweat, the bright lights, and the horribly loud music. She wanted to be anywhere but there, but had no say in the matter. Nic was forced to follow and sit with them as they picked a table.

“We have some time to kill until Grieves arrives,” Peacemaker said before requesting drinks from a waitress. As she walked off, Bloodsport snapped at him.

“Seriously? Right now?” The Brit said irritatedly.

“Oh come on, Du Bois, this might be our last drink together,” Flag spoke up.

The waitress came back and set down several cups of alcohol in front of everyone.

“Alright fine, but one drink,” Bloodsport ordered.

“You’re gonna be that guy?” Peacemaker asked.

“Yeah I’m gonna be that guy,” Bloodsport replied.

Nic pushed her cup towards the center of the table for anyone who wanted it. This surprised a few people who looked at her.

“You're not gonna drink?” Peacemaker asked.

She shook her head. “I don’t drink.”

“Why not?” He asked.

“Because I don’t,” she snapped. “Now lay off.”

“Alright, sheesh,” he rolled his eyes.

It wasn’t long after the drinks that everyone started to get into a better mood, letting loose a bit and having fun. They eventually discarded their table and started to dance and drink more, neither Nic had any interest in joining. She sat at a table by herself, debating on whether or not she could sneak out. Rick and Bloodsport were having a laugh together while Cleo and Peacemaker danced. She bounced her leg nervously under the table. The only thing preventing her from picking at her nails were the gloves. She was nervous because the team was waiting to snatch Gaius Grieves, but more so because of the environment. She hated crowds.

She nearly jumped from her seat when someone sat down in the chair next to her, but she visibly relaxed a bit when she noticed it was just Abner. Nic kept her head down to avoid meeting his gaze or allowing him to see the blush that crept up her cheeks, no matter how dim the lighting was. She kept her eyes on her lap, even when he spoke.

“Are you okay?” Abner asked, looking at her.

Nic let out a sigh and shook her head. “I don’t like crowds. I’ve never been much of a party person.” For a moment she glanced at Abner. “You seem to be having fun, though.”

He shrugged, taking in the surroundings. “I’ve never had alcohol before so I’m a little drunk.”

Humming in amusement, Nic lifted her head to look at him. “You don’t have to stay and be a wallflower with me. You were just starting to have fun.”

“I didn’t want you to be alone.”

Fighting back the blush, she cleared her throat. “Thank you, Abner. That’s kind of you.”

For the remainder of the night they sat next to each other in silence, the occasional comment or short conversation. At one point Cleo joined them, and they waited patiently for Grieves to arrive. And when he did, they pretended not to be paying attention to him or the conversation that Bloodsport started with him. When they stood and started for the exit, the three knew what to do and stood, carefully following behind.

Everyone in the club paused when the Corto Maltese Army stepped into the club, announcing they were searching for Americans. Nic’s breath got caught in her throat and instinctively grabbed Abner’s arm in fear. She nearly missed his reciprocation as he took her other hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, a silent promise she’ll be safe.

Nic was broken out of her fearful trance when Cleo gently shook her shoulder, saying something about they have to sneak Grieves out back and meet up with Bloodsport later. All she could do was nod and follow close behind Cleo as the three escorted Grieves out the back of the club.

[nextgenfairytale]

Arnold & Helga’s quarantine letters by Craig Bartlett

"Dear Helga, Day 33 of the quarantine. Going a little crazy. Thank goodness for Abner, who isn’t bothered, just seems glad that I’m around all day! Love, Arnold." "Dear Football Head, Imagine my surprise when Harvey delivered your letter this morning. In case you haven’t noticed, Einstein, there’s been a little invention called the smart phone, and I’m available by text. But I enjoyed writing this reply in an old-fashioned letter, because as you know I like to write, and it gives me the chance to go outside to mail it, and snoop around the neighborhood a little. So thanks for cheering me up, Hair Boy. From Helga. No, scratch that... Love Helga." "Dear Helga, Day 39, and I’m feeling it. It’s kind of an out-of-body experience. Grandma keeps telling me to Look Up, and Grandpa randomly comes upstairs to tell late-night ghost stories. Thanks for writing back, I never thought I’d miss hearing you call me Football Head, but these are strange days. I miss you. Love, Arnold. #stayhome" "Dear Football Head, I was minding my own business on some random sidewalk when Harvey stopped and pulled another letter from you out of his bag, like he’s Santa Claus now. And not like it’s any of your business, but I’m fine, stuck here with the Patakis for the duration. Olga’s acting career is on lockdown so she has to perform for us, going from Little Miss Sunshine to Mozart’s Requiem in 30 seconds flat. I’m mostly in my room, running out of stuff to read, so I was actually pretty glad to hear from you, Arnoldo. I could use some of your blind optimism. Write me some more, okay? Love, Helga.” "Dear Helga, Day 49 since we could just go to Slausen’s and get an ice cream. I’m spending even more time in my room — Grandpa started a game of Risk downstairs and it’s gone on for days. Things are getting surreal up here. The colors keep changing. I find myself asking questions like, where did Grandma find this carpet? I finally fall asleep and dream of flying, and then Nocturnal Ned wakes me at 7:00 and I count how many days it’s been. Thanks for the song dedications, by the way, they’re always spot on. But do they always have to be “from Helga who hates you”? And thanks for writing back, I really enjoy your letters. Love, Arnold." "Dear Football Head, Harvey came to the door waving another letter from you like I’d been waiting for it or something. The nerve of that guy. I told him I’d been out, staring at clouds and trying to see shapes in them like you do, and normally I could make fun of you and call you dorkwad or yutz or paste-for-brains, but you weren’t there. So I returned to Casa Pataki, where nothing changes: Bob’s on his phone straight through dinner, Miriam stares a hole in her blender like to smoothie or not to smoothie? And if Olga reminds me to wash my dirty little hands one me time I’ll wring her scrawny neck. Back to the magnificent solace of my room where I can write you back, as you requested. So don’t say I never did anything for you, Hair Boy. And please write back. Love, Helga." "Dear Helga, Day 58 of this thing. How could the days go by so fast and then just stand there? I’m in my room trying to make the walls go away. When I fall asleep, all I do is dream. I know it’s boring to read about other people’s dreams, but I had a dream about you. You were trying to tell me something, but I couldn’t hear what you were saying. You were smiling, though, so it was something good. I went out walking today, and Harvey asked me if I had any mail for him. I said, isn’t it supposed to be the other way around? I think he’s on to us, Helga. But please write back. Love, Arnold." "Dear Football Head, you’re right about Harvey. He came sauntering up, made a big show of going through his bag looking for your letter, humming some stinkin’ love song. I told him I don’t have all day, what does he think, I just pace around in front of the house waiting to hear about a certain Hair-Boy’s dumb dreams? And speaking of which, I’ve been having some doozies. Last night you came out of this spooky fog and I was trying to tell you something important, and you turned into Arnie. Then I realized that I was a monkey. Well, a monkey-girl. Anyway it’s nice to get these letters. I don’t mind reading about your dreams as long as they’re about me. Keep it up, Arnoldo. Dream about the day we can go out for ice cream. I’ve got a thing or two I’d like to say over a banana split. Which you are paying for, Bucko. Just kidding, we can split it. Love, Helga." "Dear Helga, Day 70 of this craziness. I tried sleeping on my couch to see if I would maybe dream less, but nope. Here’s one: we were up in Mighty Pete, and you said follow me down, Arnoldo, and then you were gone, and then the whole tree was gone. I was a little gloomy at breakfast, probably because it was chickpea pancakes (Dad’s still grinding his own flour substitutes). Grandma and Grandpa tried to cheer me up, but you know what? All I wanted was another letter from you. I went down to wait for Harvey, and he comes dancing up, and even with his mask on he was singing, “You’ll never find... someone who cares about you! Like sheeee does” and I’m like “C’mon Harvey, just give me the letter please.” Anyway thanks for writing back. These letters are giving me life. And yes, I will love to meet you at Slausen’s for a banana split, and I don’t care who pays. That will be a great day. Love, Arnold." "Dear Football Head, Ha! Think you’re dreaming a lot? Even if I tell you just my dreams that you starred in I’ll be writing letters for years, or at least till this quarantine is over. Okay, last night I fell asleep reading Ulysses, which always puts me right out, and then I was wandering in that Dali painting with all the melted clocks. And I’m yelling, okay I know time seems to be stretching these days but this is ridiculous! And then you float up in adorable cherub mode. I call out, “Hey! Arnoldo! When will the quarantine end?” And you say, “I know you want to come up, Helga, but we have to wait until Mayor Dixie says it’s okay.” And then I run and run up a bunch of stairs and into my room and slam the door, and then I notice it’s YOUR room! Heh-heh, not like I know what the inside of your room looks like, Hair Boy. Anyway thanks for writing. Harvey brought your latest and I practically tackled him to get it. I think he’s enjoying being the lockdown mailman a little too much. More dreams, please! Love, Helga." "Dear Helga, Day 82 and now we have a curfew on top of a quarantine, which is like stay home squared. I’m dreaming of the day we get our city back. Speaking of which, last night I dreamed you were a 100-foot tall giant running across our neighborhood, and I was trying to catch you, and realized I was a giant too, and was immediately terrified I was gonna step on someone. I hear a crunching sound and then a tiny car alarm and I yell, “Helga! Slow down, we’re gonna knock down the neighborhood!” And you turn around and grab the top off a building and say “Don’t worry Arnoldo, it’s cake!” And I can see it’s chocolate, with candles on it. And I’m, “But your birthday was the end of March!” And you’re all pleased, “Arnold! You remembered!” And then you explain how time is all stretchy these days so March, June, who cares? “I say it’s my birthday, Football Head.” And then you throw the cake at me and now it’s a food fight, and I wake up to the smell of Dad burning a cake made out of what turns out to be Amaranth flour, whatever that is. So happy birthday, Helga! I miss you. A lot. Write back, please. Love, Arnold." "Dear Football Head, I was out at my little spot where I like to, y’know, think, and Harvey came sauntering up like he knew I’d be there. “No letter today, Helga, but you won’t believe whose door I saw open. Slausen’s!” And my eyes bug and I say, “Hey! You’re supposed to DELIVER my mail, not read it!” And he starts dancing really annoyingly, “It’s gonna open, Mayor Dixie’s gonna call it! Soon!” And off he goes, singing “Someone who cares about you! Like heeee does!” I, uh, assume he’s referring to you, Arnoldo? Heh-heh. So I mosey home and wake Big Bob up and make him drive me over there. And Harvey wasn’t kidding, the lights are on and the sign on the door says opening soon, just waiting for Dixie to announce the next phase of opening the city! “Soon,” Hair Boy! Soon!! Are we still on for splitting that banana split? I await your reply very calmly. Love, Helga."

"Dear Helga, I just saw Mayor Dixie make the announcement on TV. Phase one of opening the city starts on Saturday! Restaurants can open! That means Slausen’s! I yelped them, they’re gonna open Saturday at noon! I’ll make this letter short — I ran up to the roof and I could see Harvey coming down the block! He waved, though, something tells me he’ll wait. Now I’m tearing up my room looking for a stamp. Okay! See you Saturday? Noon? Slausen’s! Banana split! Love, Arnold."

"Dear Arnold, The Rockies may crumble, Gibraltar may tumble, They’re only made of clay. But come Hell or high tide, Headless Cabbie or Ghost Bride, I will meet you on Saturday. Love, Helga."

[ducktracy]

123. page miss glory (1936)

release date: march 7th, 1936

series: merrie melodies

director: tex avery

starring: the varsity three (singing waiters), tommy bond (abner), bernice hansen (miss glory)

for the first time since 1934, someone other than friz freleng is directing a merrie melody—our good pal tex. throughout 1936 and 1937, tex would do both merrie melodies and looney tunes shorts, but eventually shifted over to doing a bulk of the merrie melodies, especially with freleng’s departure around 1938. he’d only do a handful of (strictly) looney tunes shorts after 1937, those being the haunted mouse and porky’s preview, both 1941. also notice how there’s no credits on the title card—according to tex avery, leon schlesinger was dating leadora congdon at the time, an artist from chicago. an art deco inspired cartoon, bellhop abner falls asleep on the job and dreams of what the esteemed miss glory’s arrival to the local hotel will be like.

welcome to hicksville, a remote, rural, hayseed little town. towns people prepare a banner that proudly reads “HICKSVILLE WELCOMES MISS GLORY”. the local hotel is also preparing for her arrival, a forest of flowers covering the front desk. the manager orders abner, a gangly, young, air-headed bellhop you hurry up and prepare for the big event. abner spots an advertisement for cigarettes, the bellhop on the flyer (a reference to the bellhop mascot for philip morris cigarettes) controlled and admirable. determined, abner imitates the bellhop’s pose, puffing oit his chest and marching around with his spindly legs, bellowing “all for miss glooooryyyyy!” i love his design (i love a LOT of the designs), the buck teeth, skinny legs and giant shoes convey a strong sense of lovable stupidity.

abner marches over to a bench and waits patiently... until, unprompted, he zips back to where he was and douses himself in some perfume for good measure. the sound of a car horn approaches, and eagerly does abner spring up, only to find two geese honking at each other. a long, drawn out horn has GOT to be miss glory. or not. a cow strolls by, even looking inside as if to say “nice try!” the set up and timing is fresh and amusing, and the backgrounds are exquisitely painted.

time marches on, literally. a cuckoo clock springs open and a bird blares a fanfare, declaring “time marches on!” (a gag that would be similarly used in porky’s romance, albeit under the guise of “time munches on!”) abner’s now asleep on the bench, and his surroundings dissolve around him into an art deco paradise. even his own design changes, like a reverse buddy transformation—going from buddy’s 1935 look back to his 1933 look.

the hotel grows into a beautiful high rise in the city, a sign out front donning it as the cosmopolitan hotel. a cheery underscore of “lullaby of broadway” welcomes the barrage of esteemed visitors—a long limousine produces a lanky woman in a red dress and blonde hair, whose face we do not see. there’s a great walk cycle of an old man parking his snazzy red car out front, appearing prim and proper as ever... until he waddles inside with a ridiculously entertaining walk cycle, carrying flowers.

he approaches abner, who’s still asleep on the bench. a few rings of the desktop bell wakes him up in a jiffy, and the man orders him to page miss glory. immediately, abner is surrounded by a gang of men waving their arms and ordering him to page miss glory. dutifully, abner salutes, once more marching away and declaring “all for miss glooooorrryyyyyy!” he passes a waiter, and they swap contents—abner now carries a bottle of beer and a shot glass on his tiny plate. he corrects the contents once more as he passes another waiter, the alcohol rightfully returned. a great, subtle gag as the pompous waiter passes by a plant. once he comes out the other end, the bottle is empty, his nose is red, his pace much slower than before.

look at those designs (well, abner covers up one of em)! i love them! my love of art deco is ignited in this cartoon. the three waiters bob around and sing “page miss glory”, vocals contributed by abner as well. i really like tommy bond as a voice actor. obviously he plays beans, and has lended his voice to a handful of merrie melodies, most memorably owl jolson in i love to singa. looking at this headshot from his little rascals days as butch, you wouldn’t figure him to be a great singer. he isn’t (the kid wasn’t even 10 years old here), but he’s very endearing and likable.

lovely art deco styled bottles frame a man placing ice cubes into shot glasses like chimes—the borders of the scene black wjth bright green, flat, bottles. two men shake cocktail shakers within an iris. great detail as we go back to the chorus of waiters and abner, wine glasses carelessly strewn about, some empty, some half full. back to the two shakers, who pour the cocktail into a flute. the flute widens into a small, wide glass instead of the stereotypical tall, skinny champagne flute. wonderfully creative as the drink is poured into the iris, now red. we see a tongue and some teeth appear as the drink flows right towards us, the iris mouth hiccuping and a hand gingerly covering the mouth.

champagne bottles are popped to the beat of the music, except one, which refuses to open. the music stops and all we hear is awkward fizzing as the man squeezes the bottle like a toothpaste tube. the bottle finally pops and the chorus resumes as normal, fun and creative. two orange/cherry garnishes dance over some cocktails with their toothpick legs, toppling into the drink. the chorus is finished out by the waiters once more, a hefty pile of wine glasses covering their faces as they sway around and wave their glasses in the air.

a pompous old woman in a striking yellow dress makes her presence known, strutting around. abner mistakes her for miss glory—she turns around and continues to march on. unfortunately, abner accidentally has his foot on her dress, and the dress tears. she gasps “oh!”, and grabs two palm fans to cover herself. thus launches an elaborate, entertaining dance sequence as she twirls around, poking her head out of the fans and giving an incongruous old lady laugh. an absolutely wonderful scene, animated by bob clampett. yesterday i had implied the entire scene was his, and looking back i doubt that’s true, so... my mistake! the half where she does the dance is definitely clampett. unfortunately, i’m unsure as to who does the first half. he turns her back to the audience... until realizing that her back is exposed (she’s wearing a slip, don’t worry). she does a take, whips around and covers herself bashfully. a great scene full of tex avery humor—making the sophisticated as unsophisticated and unceremonious as possible.

a rather rotund man demands he wants service, to which abner calls for said service. a waiter salutes, sticking out his leg and knocking over all of the other waiters next to him like dominoes. they scramble to throw a feast before the man, great timing as the whirlwind of food dies down and a waiter plucks a tiny cherry on top. even better as the waiter forces his hand through the tower of goods as we watch with bated breath. he pulls out a tiny little olive on a fork, a closeup of him taking a tiny, delicate little bite. he placed the fork down, dabs his mouth, and leaves. incongruity is strong, striking, and hilarious. i’d be willing to bet money that tex avery modeled for that character.

suddenly, a man announces over an intercom that miss glory is here. come to see america’s sweetheart. none of the guests need further invitation, including a decrepit old man in a wheelchair with a bandaged foot, who scrambles out of his chair and whirls forward (accompanied by the sound of a jet engine warming up), exclaiming “hot diggity dog!” food is dropped, newspapers are dropped, decorum is dropped as everyone rushes to the elevator.

abner attempts to dive in, too, but the doors slam in front of him. he tries again, and is booted out once more. the charade continues, faster and faster as abner is carelessly thrown about, trying his damnest to get in. eventually, he resorts to pulling back the arrow on the indicator and hopping inside. the elevator boy marches out just in time to hang up a sign that says “OUT TO LUNCH”.

an armada of men rush towards the screen, and we get a lovely transition to see the real miss glory—the blonde woman in red we caught a quick glimpse of at the beginning. the waiters sing another chorus of “page miss glory”, chimes contributed by abner who is furiously pressing every single button on the elevator to get it to work. a distance shot of the hotel and a lone elevator slingshotting up and down at great speeds. the perspective on the miss glory scenes are lovely, men walking right in front of the screen and even an overhead view. the elevator continues to zig zag to the music.

finally, the elevator rises to the correct floor. great perspective as abner makes a break for it, yet the doors slamming him back inside. the malfunctioning elevator slingshots around once more, the force so strong it breaks the roof. abner is propelled into the air and prepares to meet his demise. a ringing bell sound tricks us into thinking he’s breathed his last breath, but not at all—a train conductor is angrily ringing his bell to get abner out of the road (lovely visuals as the skyscraper seems to extend further into the ground behind him).

the real abner wakes up to find his hayseed hotel manager ringing the desk bell. miss glory has finally arrived, for real this time. a crowd gathers around an expensive limo, eagerly awaiting her arrival. abner opens the door for his esteemed guest...

and a cute little blonde marches out with a lollipop, an oversized sash bearing the title “MISS GLORY” nearly covering her entire body. abner contorts his lanky body just to get a good look, exclaiming “miss glory!” bernice hansen works her baby voice magic as miss glory giggles “that’s me, big boy!” the shock is too much for abner, who faints right into her arms. miss glory doesn’t mind, instead saying “boy, do i slay em!” a few happy licks of her lollipop, and she orders “play, don!” (a reference to radio personality jack benny). sure enough, an orchestral close and an iris out bring the cartoon to a close.

what a BEAUTIFUL cartoon! tex’s first merrie melody hits the ground running. the visuals are fresh, new, and exciting, from the backgrounds to the people to the props. tex works his magic and adds his own humor so the cartoon isn’t too much of an ode to promoting the song (which i haven’t found a commercial recording of)—making the pompous as un-pompous as possible. at times, the cartoon does feel a little convoluted, as if tex is juggling and trying to find a balance between humor, style, and song. i wonder if leadora congdon’s input serves as any detriment to tex’s working style. i believe i read where he said he didn’t care for this cartoon in his later years, which i can understand. that’s the thing about these reviews: you have to look at them with the eye of a viewer in 1936 (which i know i don’t at all, constantly making connections to future cartoons). it’s not at all tex’s best work, but considering what we’ve seen up until this point in time, it’s phenomenal. absolutely worth watching. the visuals are stunning and that ending is just fantastic.

link!

[waywardnerd67]

Last Part of Me: Chap. 3 - Aftermath

Summary: The final battle between (Y/N) and Abner happens in the same cemetery where Michael and Lucifer were supposed to fight. Sam and Dean rush to the fight getting there too late. Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Reader, Zeniel (OFC) Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Fluff/Angst Word Count: 1747 A/N: As always this is unbeta so all mistakes are mine. Likes, comments and reblogs are splendid and I will love you doubly for them! Enjoy!

Catch Up Here: Last Part of Me Masterlist

(Y/N) felt someone pulling the hood from her head and she slowly opened her eyes. Blinking a few times her eyes came into focus as she looked around seeing headstones and brown grass everywhere. She could hear a few soft voices whispering behind her.

“Hey, you might as well speak up for the whole class to hear or be quiet. I don’t care which but choose one.” She said being met with silence, “Best choice you could have made.” She muttered.

“Hello (Y/N), it is nice to meet you finally.” Abner’s voice came from behind her sending chills down her spine.

As he walked in front of her, (Y/N) was taken back by how different they looked from one another. He had shaggy coal black hair, pale hazel eyes and tan skin. He was not tall nor muscular. He truly did not look like a threat at all which made him more dangerous.

“Abner, I presume. You know there was no reason to kidnap me. I was on my way to the meeting place of your choice.” (Y/N) said as the corner of his mouth curled into a smirk.

He knelt in front of her reaching one arm behind the chair she was tied too. She felt her hands freed and then he untied her feet extending a hand to help her up. (Y/N) ignored it and stood up in front him. Glancing around she saw that they were surrounded by his followers. She knew that running was out of the question.

“I’m sorry about the harshness of your capture. However, your pesky angel friends were onto your leaving Heaven. I could not take the chance of them taking you back there. Not before we had a chance to speak first. You can see that you can run away so do you think we could just sit and have a conversation as siblings?” He asked as he motioned to a bench at the entrance of the cemetery.

She nodded following him and sitting beside him. He started off by asking her questions of how she was brought up and when she discovered her powers. He seemed genuinely interested in getting to know her and if (Y/N) did not know better she would have given him the benefit of the doubt. However, Castiel’s profile on him was running on repeat inside her head.

“Abner, may I ask you a question?” She asked as he nodded, “What exactly is your plan for Earth? With me?”

He ran his hand over the back of his neck chuckling, “Is it not obvious what I want? It is the same thing our father would have wanted. For his children to take his place on the throne of Heaven and finally rid this pathetic world of all weakness. You and I storming this planet together in the name of Michael. Only those who pledge their complete devotion to us will roam the Earth.”

(Y/N)’s body went cold listening to his demented plan and she could feel a surge of power traveling up her veins. She stood up looking down at him, “You know I won’t follow you and I will kill you.” She said calmly as he stood in front of her.

“Yes, I know. However, you will lose your life because I am more powerful than you could even imagine. You will lose, (Y/N). I will not take any joy in killing my sister, but I will also not let you stand in my way of the mission that was instilled in me from the moment of my creation.” Abner waved his hand at the angels nearest them.

The popped away along with every angel that had surrounded them. She looked around bewildered as to why he would send them away. “What happens next Abner?” she asked as he walked away from her.

“You gather your army and I will gather mine. We will meet back here in the very spot our father was supposed to defeat his brother Lucifer. We will finally have the battle for the world. One week, sister. One week and everything comes to an end. I will see you then.” With that he vanished the sounds of wings flapping.

(Y/N) sighed heavily knowing she needed to see Castiel and Zeniel as soon as possible. One thing was for certain, the Winchesters could not be a part of this battle. They would instantly be killed and the mere thought of Dean dying was enough to make her powers go wildly uncontrolled.

She flew to the sandbox where Zeniel was waiting impatiently for her. (Y/N) could see how angry she was at her, but still engulfed her into a big hug. “If you ever do that again I swear to Chuck I will end you myself.”

(Y/N) chuckled nodding, “I promise I will never do that again. Now we need to talk with Cas about going into battle and how to keep the Winchesters out of it.”

For the better part of the next week (Y/N), Zeniel and Castiel devised a plan to go into battle against Abner. (Y/N) pulled Castiel aside after their last meeting with the angels going down to Earth with them the next morning.

“Cas, I have a special order for you and you will probably not like it.” She said as they sat down in her room.

A small smile spread across his lips, “You want me to keep the Winchesters as far away from this battle as possible, right?”

She nodded smiling, “You know me so well. You know Abner will use them against Zeniel and myself. We cannot afford for either of us to be distracted. Abner is much more powerful than I am, but to Nephilims against one then we have a chance.”

“I agree. I will do my best to keep them from the fight.” Castiel stood up walking to the door then turned around, “However, I do want to point out that Sam and Dean are a great weapon to use. Abner will never expect them to survive the fight but as we both know they are harder to kill than they look.”

(Y/N) snickered, “You may be right about that, but I don’t want to take the chance. I ca-can’t even think about if… anything was to happen to him…” her emotions were getting the better of her and Castiel nodded knowingly.

“Don’t worry (Y/N), I will keep them safe.” He said reassuringly as he walked out of her room.

She could not sleep as her nerves kept her body buzzing. She sat up writing in her journal along with a letter to Dean. She was confident in her soldiers, but she knew realistically that the chances of them winning was not good. (Y/N) did not want to leave any of her feelings for Dean unknown. She wanted them both to have some sense of closure.

The next morning, Castiel set off to the Bunker to keep the Winchesters there. (Y/N) and Zeniel were in the armory of Heaven getting ready for their battle. Everyone was silent as they put on their armor and grabbed their weapons.

She led them through the doorway to Earth and then through the entrance of Stull Cemetery. In the very spot where Sam took a swan dive into the Lucifer’s cage, Abner was waiting for her. His flock of followers stood behind him. At least thirty or so angels against (Y/N)’s twenty. The odds were in his favorite but something deep within her gave her the confidence that they had a chance.

“Hello, (Y/N). I’ll give you one last chance to join me before I rid all of you from this existence.” Abner shouted.

(Y/N) stood her ground giving a hand signal for her army to halt. She shook her head as Abner’s laughter filled the tension filled air. His face went emotionless in a spit second and he said, “Have it your way.” He motioned for his army to attack as she did.

The battle was brutal as angel fought angel. The smell of sizzling wings filled the air and charred the ground beneath them. She caught a glimpse of Zeniel with blood streaking her blonde hair. Just past her (Y/N) spotted Abner and she charge through the battling angels straight at him. A cocky smirk on his face fueling her anger that surge her powers into overdrive.

“Finally, the world can see just what that apocalypse was supposed to be all those years ago.” He said as she pulled out Michael’s sword.

Appearing behind him as if out of thin air was a long lance that she recognized from her father’s journal. “How did you get that?” she asked as they began to circle one another.

“You were not the only one he left his legacy too. It will give you the slow and painful death you deserve for betraying the beliefs of our father. You disgrace him!” He yelled his wings flashing before her.

They were exactly like hers but the arura around them was darker. He lunged at her and their battle began. It seemed as though everybody around them stopped to watch the greatest battle go down. Clinking of their weapons echoed throughout the headstones and she was amazed by the strength he possessed.

She was able to get the better of him pinning him to the ground and aiming her sword at his chest. Abner was panting and just as she was going to end it all she heard the familiar roar of the Impala. In that single moment everything changed. (Y/N) glanced away to see Dean, Sam and Castiel running towards them.

That is when her chest felt like it was on fire. Her heart was beating in her ears and her legs were losing feeling as she hit the ground hard. (Y/N)’s sword fell by her side and she stared up to see Abner standing over her.

“Goodbye sister.” He said plunging the lance deeper into her chest.

She could no longer catch her breath. Every time she tried to her chest burned and a metallic taste flooded her mouth. In the distance she could hear Dean’s voice yelling her name and she prayed to just see him one last time.

(Y/N)’s eyelids were too heavy to keep open and she felt as if her body was floating. The only sounds she could hear was her ever slowing heartbeat until there was nothing. No sound, no sights, just nothingness. A vast void. The Empty.  

If you enjoyed this story then check out my Masterlist!

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[carynnhalen]

There were only a few hours until sunrise. 

Crime in Gotham would start slowing down for the night, the city’s villains and criminals able to breathe easy now that Batman had gone crawling back to his cave. Now was the time to get together, share their stories, make new plans and find the next big job or heist. My Alibi, an old burlesque club turned dive bar, was a choice place to end their nights.

Carynn killed the engine of her bike, already able to hear the music, laughter and loud conversation inside wafting out into the night. She shoved her keys into the pocket of her jacket, her quick footsteps towards the building betraying her nervous energy. She’d been to the bar hundreds of times, but never for the reason she was stopping in for tonight.

She swung the door open, her nose scrunching at the musky, smoky smell inside. Just get in and get out, she told herself. What’s the fun in that? the voice in her head asked. It’s still early, let’s pick up a snack before we head home.

Carynn shut her eyes tightly. It was better to not try and argue with her. Instead she made a quick scan of the faces in the room. With each second that she couldn’t spot her target, her fingers wrapped tighter around her keys.

With an annoyed huff she gave up her search and headed towards the bar. Carynn hopped up onto one of the stools, smiling thinly at Abner Krill who gave a quick wave in her direction before turning back to his conversation with Peacemaker. 

A bartender, Stacey, spotted Carynn and came over with a smile. She was a sweet girl, probably barely into her 20′s. Carynn had absolutely no idea what she was doing in a dump like My Alibi. “Hiya, ‘Rynn. What can I get ya?” she asked in a thick, almost stereotypical Brooklyn accent.

“Uh, actually I’m not staying long tonight,” Carynn said, looking over her shoulders one last time for her contact. “Have you seen Lazlo? I was supposed to meet him here.”

“The fuck do you need to meet with Pyg for?” Carynn rolled her eyes at Peacemaker’s voice. 

“How is that your business, Chris?” she snapped, shooting a bored look in his direction. Christopher Smith was unfortunately an ex boyfriend. They’d met at My Alibi and he’d somehow sucked Carynn in to a four hour long conversation about 80′s hair metal and hating their fathers that had somehow turned into a six month relationship that she’d rather die than reveal to anyone she knew. 

He ignored her, pointing his beer bottle in her direction. “It’s not a tinder thing, is it? ‘Cause if it is that’s so fucking gross that I don’t wanna hear about it.”

“Then why don’t you keep your mouth shut for five fucking seconds and mind your own business?”

Chris scoffed, taking a slow swig of his drink. “You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

Carynn opened her mouth to spit back a reply when Abner nervously rose his hand, looking between the two of them. “Uh...Lazlo’s in Arkham.” he offered.

“What?” Carynn groaned. “When the hell did that happen? Would it kill him to give me a phone call? Maybe say hey! Got locked up! Won’t be able to make it tonight!”

“Well, he’s a schizophrenic freaky fuck that likes to saw off people’s faces so I’m thinking it’s probably a big N.O. on the phone calls.” Chris interrupted. Carynn rolled her eyes again.

Stacey gave Carynn a somewhat apologetic smile. “It happened like two days ago, hun. He snatched up the Mayor’s new wife and Batman gave him the business. He’s probably gonna be locked up for awhile.”

I told you this was a horrible plan to begin with, the voice in her head said. Disgusting, even. Why eat cold, old meat when we could have it fresh? You heard Christopher, maybe we could take him up on the offer. It’d hold us off for awhile.

Carynn groaned, rubbing her eyes roughly. “Okay...thanks for the info. Guess I’m outta here then.” she gave the trio a thin smile and hopped off of the bar stool. 

“Oh, ‘Rynn, wait!” Stacey gasped lightly, running around the bar and over to Carynn, she took her by the wrist, pulling her away from Abner and Chris. “Before you go, there’s this guy I think you should totally meet. He’s new so I don’t know a whole lot about him, but he’s totally got that tall, dark and handsome thing goin’, ya know?” she was nodding her head in what she probably thought was an inconspicuous manner towards the corner of the room.

Stacey’s description was pretty spot on. Mystery man was sitting at a booth by himself. He had a head of dark, curly, messy hair, a strong jaw and looked like he hadn’t slept in a full week which somehow added to his over all...handsomeness was really the only word she could come up with. 

Please let me eat him, the voice begged. Look at him, he’s positively scrumptious. 

Carynn frowned, looking back at the bartender. “Wait, are you telling me I should go hit on him?”

Stacey pulled a somewhat guilty face. “Well...ya seem kinda tense. Down in the dumps, ya know? Maybe it couldn’t hurt goin’ on a few dates and...whatnot.”

The corner of Carynn’s mouth turned up as she looked back at the mystery man. He had a short whiskey glass in hand, absently staring off into the crowd around him. “...Whatnot, huh?” Carynn repeated. “Well, that’s actually sort of...totally embarrassing, but it’s the thought that counts, I guess. Thanks, Stace.” she patted the bartender on the shoulder before heading for her mystery man.

He smells even better than he looks, the voice sighed. 

She was right. Somehow his smell was stronger than any other in the room. It was a clean, strong scent. Cologne mixed with something that reminded her of the Jasmine bushes her mom had when she was younger. 

He looked her way as she grew closer. Carynn noticed a little more light in his dark eyes once he spotted her. Suddenly she realized that she hadn’t come up with even a fraction of a plan of what she was going to say to him. 

Just fake it ‘til you make it, she reminded herself. It hadn’t failed her yet. 

Carynn slid into the seat across from tall dark and handsome, flashing a warm smile his way. “Hey, Stacey said you’re new around here.” she nodded towards the bar where she knew that Stacey was probably watching from. 

Her mystery man’s lips turned upward in an amused grin as his eyes flickered between the bar and Carynn. “I am. Here for some work,” he held his hand out to her. “Marc Spector.”

Carynn scoffed loudly rather shaking his hand. “Bullshit.”

Marc raised his eyebrows, letting out a laugh. “...You don’t believe me?”

“No way. That’s totally a fake name.” she shook her head.

Marc’s smile grew a little wider, eyes still on Carynn as he dug his wallet out from his back pocket. “See for yourself.” he said, sliding his ID towards her.

Carynn picked it up, scanning for info quickly. His name was indeed Marc Spector. He was 5′9, in his 30′s and a fellow Pisces. “Huh...well, nice to meet you then, Marc Spector. I’m Carynn Halen.” she greeted, handing his ID back.

Marc let out a snort. “You thought my name was fake?”

Carynn shrugged. “I’d show you my ID, but I don’t have one. You’re just gonna have to trust me.”

Marc smiled and nodded. “Right...so, can I get you a drink?”

“Sure,” she chirped. “I’ll have what you’re having.”

Marc excused himself, Carynn turning around briefly to watch him walk off. 

Christ, the voice in her head said. He almost looks even better from behind.

“Will you shut up?” Carynn muttered. “It’s hard enough talking to a hot guy without dealing with how ravenously horny you are. Take a frickin’ chill pill.”

You’re no fun lately, the voice argued. At least take a little sampling if you won’t let me eat him.

“No,” Carynn snapped. “Now behave, or I’ll go vegan for a week.” thankfully that seemed like enough to quiet the voice for the time being. 

Soon Marc returned with their drinks, and the two settled into easy conversation. Carynn learned that Marc lived in New York for a few years before moving to London, and that he was in Gotham for a merc job that he seemed to be playing close to the chest.

Before Carynn knew it, a few hours had passed and the sun was peaking through the windows. “Sunlight is officially my cue to head home.” she said, standing and stretching. 

“Yeah, probably wouldn’t kill me to try and get some sleep,” Marc said with a tired smile. With a wave to Stacey, Carynn headed outside alongside Marc and started for her bike. “Look at that,” Marc said, nodding up towards the sky. “Day moon,”

Carynn looked up at the tiny sliver of silver in the sky and let out a short grunt.

Marc laughed. “Not a fan?”

“...It’s complicated I guess. Things get pretty intense around here during a full moon.”

Marc grinned, looking from Carynn back up to the moon. “Yeah, I guess I could get that...well, Carynn Halen, am I gonna get to see you again?”

Carynn smiled at him, biting her bottom lop. “You got a pen?” Marc patted his pockets before pulling a pen out of his jacket. She took the pen, turning one of Marc’s hands and writing her phone number across his skin. 

“That’s not a fake number, right?” he teased.

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see. See ya around, Marc Spector.”

[ruffsficstuffplace]

The Viridian Vanguard (Part 13)

Note: I’ve been rereading Keeper to get a handle of where I am in this story, and I realize that Winter spoke of the escape plans and doubting being able to escape the Valley twice, and she said it in this story like she hadn’t already been doubtful of it, and spoke it here like it was for the first time. God, I really need to keep a timeline of conversations and important beats, I think.

I probably won’t, but still. Anyway, here’s the next chapter, seeing as last week was the end of AWRD.

Bee came to visit later that evening, bearing news of the Terrace’s clean-up efforts so far. Most of the minutiae was downloaded straight to Penny’s databanks with a Fae version of a data storage crystal, while Bee told Weiss and Winter a summarized account.

“… So, with the Water Quadrant indefinitely closed until further notice, and Primal Aeilana also either completely occupied with the clean-up, and with her joining the expedition for supplies and components leaving this week, we’ll all be training under the other Primals at their Quadrants for the time being.

“Generally speaking, our class will be split up into small, 2-3 folk groups, scheduled on different days of the week, in different Quadrants at once. The actual training sessions will be supervised by the Primals, or their own chosen representatives, and we won’t be required to interact or join up with any of their original students, unless it’s specifically for cross-element training.”

Bee looked up from the holo with her notes. “So, any questions, concerns, or objections?”

“Nothing from me,” Weiss said, “I’m just happy I don’t need to meet a new group of folks I might accidentally kill with my magic...”

“Just one question on my part: if I’m already considered part of Primal Aeilana’s class as you and Weiss are, does this mean I’m exempted from the initiation rite, even after she returns and the Quadrant is reopened?” Winter asked through the can.

“Yes, you can skip it,” Bee replied. “The Evoking Altar is very low on the master list of repairs and replacements, and Primal Aeilana is not willing to wait for however long it takes for it to get the greenlight, more so fixed.”

“Oh, thank Piper...”

“I wouldn’t be too relaxed if I were you, though: Primal Aeilana will figure out an alternative rite, and she’s probably already asking around for ideas as we speak.”

“Trust me, my only concern is avoiding facing a realized representation of my fear of the Keepers.” Winter replied. “Otherwise, I am good for whatever ridiculously dangerous and/or ill-advised stunt she wants me to do.”

Bee smiled, and said, “Just a bit of friendly advice: never say that in front of Primal Aeilana.”

“Duly noted.”

“And with that out of the way, it’s time for the last item on my list,” Bee said as she turned to Weiss. “Weiss, seeing as your coat, mask, gauntlet, and focus have severely damaged, and Maker Abner has just informed us today that he has no definite time frame on when he can finish repairs and upgrades, you’ll be lent stock set in the meanwhile, the same standardized gear used in the Pits.

“However, since it’s not nearly as good at controlling your power as your original gear, you’ll also be wearing a magical inhibitor for a while.”

Weiss nodded. “What does it look like?”

“There are actually very many variations of the design, but what you will likely be wearing is this,” Penny said, before projecting a holo with a picture of the device alone, and being worn on by a model.

“… Are you seriously telling me I’m going to be wearing a cone of shame?!”

“The element-proof cone will likely be considered optional, so you will only really be wearing the main body of the collar, if with additional accessories,” Penny explained.

“And what will those look like?” Weiss asked, annoyed.

Penny showed her.

“Okay, now you have got to be fucking kidding me!” Weiss snapped. “That can’t be it! That can’t possibly be it!” she wavered for a moment, and turned to Bee. “Is it…?”

“It is,” she said gravely.

“Motherfuck...” Weiss growled.

“What does it look like?” Winter asked.

“I believe the closest objects you are familiar with would be mittens and socks, similar to those worn by infants, except larger.”

Winter paused for a moment, before she sniggered.

Weiss scowled at the can.

“Sorry.”

“I would like to clarify that it’s only about a 30-27% chance that the menders will decide you require such accessories!” Penny said.

“Thanks,” Weiss grumbled, before she turned to Bee. “Anything else?”

“The same deal applies to Penny’s new body, but she’s got a loaner, too,” Bee said. “It should be arriving by the time you wake up tomorrow morning, actually! So, any questions, concerns, or objections?”

No one had any, they bid Bee farewell, and she left.

“So, after all this time, looks like we’ll finally be able to go to school together, in the same classes, huh, Weiss?” Winter said.

“And we’ll both be much older than our peers, delayed by several years, and stick out like two sore thumbs, especially since neither of us can speak fluent Actaeon yet,” Weiss added flatly.

“Yes, that’s true, but I think we should really focus on the bright side of all this, Weiss: there’s no more having to worry about Father’s ideas and opinions about the path our education and lives are supposed to take; the curriculum, classes, and projects here are going to be infinitely more interesting than anything we’ve ever had; and the skills and qualifications we can get from the Terrace are going to go a long way to improving our lives here in the Valley.”

Weiss nodded, and paused for a moment. “Hey Winter? Can we at least try and go to the Terrace on the same days and at the same time, even if we’re in different groups and at different quadrants?” Weiss asked.

“Of course, Weiss!” Winter replied. “As much as I can help it, I’ll be there right by your side. Besides, you could use the extra help if you get the cone and the mittens.”

Weiss scowled. “Oh, fuck you, Winter...”

“I love you too, Weiss, goodnight.”

“Night.” Weiss said, before Penny pulled the can out of the barrier and “hung up.”

Weiss was quiet for a moment, before she turned to Penny, and asked, “Hey Penny? When we get back to training at the Weaver’s Terrace, do you think anyone’s going to hate and/or be afraid of me because of everything that’s happened…?”

“I will be frank: there is a very high possibility of them holding very negative opinions of you, but I sincerely doubt that many of them will go through the effort and the consequences of publicly airing said opinions, especially towards you personally. Aside from the fact that you are the Keeper’s mate, the weavers strongly encourage good relations among the members of their Order: if they cannot achieve harmonious cooperation, then they should at least strive for peaceful coexistence.”

“Heh,” Weiss smiled, “seems like Feroki hasn’t gotten that part yet, has he?”

“It certainly seems that way!” Penny chirped. “Though, to be fair, he still has yet to mature into an adult, nor advance to the Adept level.”

Weiss nodded. “Thanks for that, Penny, good night,” she said, before she closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep.

“You are welcome, Weiss, and good night also,” Penny said, before she went into standby mode.

The next morning, Weiss was woken up by a mender, informing her that Penny was to be taken away to be installed into her loaner body, and that Weiss was to start her special physical therapy that day.

“What exactly are they going to do to me?” Weiss asked as the barrier around her bed was taken down, and she was carefully loaded into a wheelchair.

“I have been given any exact details, nor do I have time to explain all the possibilities, but I can assure you it is most definitely going to be incredibly thorough considering your condition!” Penny said as she was taken away, before she was too far away for her voice to be heard.

“What exactly are they going to do to me?” Weiss said as she looked up at the menders accompanying her.

<Sorry, Nivian no speak,> said one as he pointed at himself and his companion. <Mender in charge can, tell you when you get there.>

<Thank you,> Weiss said, before she was wheeled out of the ward and down one of the hospital’s many halls, wondering what sort of fresh hell the Valley had in store for her now...

Fifteen minutes later…

Weiss lay naked and stomach-down on a blanket on top of a flat slab of rock, completely limp and relaxed as a therapy mender massaged her, while carefully working in a series of oils, balms, and lotions into her skin. Lines of ice blue magic and many other colours glowed all over her body, flowing and moving along with the mender’s hands or on invisible paths; rippling and spreading out over her skin; or pooled up and stagnant in some places, until something forced them to flow again or dispelled them entirely.

The lights were low and warm; a bowl of incense, herbs, and oils burned beside Weiss and produced a sweet, relaxing smoke; the wall of enchanted air gently swirling around them kept all the other scents and sounds around them out, the temperature at just the right range for Weiss’ comfort.

<How are you feeling, Weaver Schnee?> her mender asked.

Weiss gave an incoherent, burbling sound of pleasure and satisfaction.

The mender giggled. <I would take that as a ‘I am feeling quite well, thank you.’>

The rest of her treatment proceeded like a luxurious spa day: more specific treatments for her hands and feet that happened to include a manicure-pedicure; a facial with some mildly hallucinogenic (but incredibly pleasant) aromatherapy involved; a stroll through the hospital’s vibrant and expansive garden to get some sun, fresh air, and enjoy the greenery; until it ended with a special breakfast outdoors, along with some tonics and medication.

What parts of the menu and items on her prescription that were less than pleasant to take were vastly outnumbered by the ones Weiss happily took her sweet time savouring. She largely ignored the other patients around her and they did the same, until Jaune happened to be as set down on the free space beside her.

“Morning, Jaune!” Weiss chipred, figuratively and literally glowing from the leftover traces of mana dancing on her skin. “Fruit? I don’t know what it is yet, but it’s certainly fresh and delicious!” she said, extending her plate filled with bite-sized, artfully cut chunks.

“I’ll pass...” Jaune moaned, slouching over the table with his arms resting on it.

“Still reeling from your head injury?” Weiss asked sympathetically.

“No, well, kinda, but it’s not really—“ Jaune sighed, took a deep breath, then said, “I just got back from a really intense massage...”

“You did? I can’t imagine why you look so down right now, mine was incredible!” Weiss said, before she popped another bite into her mouth.

“Eh, I think it’s because we’re different, uh, what is it, ‘alignments’ or something?” Jaune replied. “They said that since I was earth, and because I apparently wasn’t massaged enough or properly for a few years, they said they needed to use a really firm hand.”

Weiss swallowed, and asked, “How firm are we talking about exactly...?”

Twenty minutes earlier...

Jaune screamed as an incredibly large and muscular therapy mender-weaver slowly ran his massive hands over Jaune’s body, magical ripples glowing on his skin, shaking him like a miniature, localized earthquake. “Ilias, so much tension! So many knots! So many disrupted flows!” his mender bellowed over Jaune’s whimpering. “No wonder your body is in such poor condition, Mr. Arc!”

Jaune burst into a fresh round of tears. “Please, make it stop!”

“We will, we will!” the mender said as he started to move into more powerful kneading, intenser pulses of earth magic. “Trust me, Mr. Arc: by the time you’re out of this hospital, you will feel like a new man!” he continued as he grabbed one of Jaune’s legs, and gently bent it.

“AAAGH!”

“You will find all your old pains and aches have disappeared, especially those you never knew were there!” he began to slowly stretch it out again.

“AAA-HAAAH-HAAAH…!”

“Then, then you will see the true peaks of your power, the true capabilities of your body!”

Jaune’s mender exploded into boisterous laughter as Jaune quietly sobbed and whimpered.

“… Yeah, that does sound a LOT more unpleasant than what I went through...” Weiss said quietly. “Did it work, at least?”

“Yeah...” Jaune falling forward and letting his head hit the table. “Still gonna be sore for a while, though...”

“There, there, Jaune: I predict a high chance that your condition will begin to rapidly improve in the near future, both physically and in general,” Penny said as she came up to them.

Weiss turned to her, and gasped, her eyes widening. “Penny! You’re back! And oh my gosh, you look so adorable!”

Penny giggled as she flew in front of them, her core was now housed in a human-style flying drone with part of her original ears and tail attached, the custom covering making her look like a round, soft, flying mouse plushie with brilliant green eyes. “Maker Abner thought it necessary that my loaner body look as aesthetically pleasing, nonthreatening, and friendly as possible.”

“Well I certainly approve,” Weiss said. “Can I touch you?”

“Go right ahead,” Penny said, “this body was designed for it.”

“Thanks!” Weiss said as she reached out and started touching Penny. “Oh, wow, did this cover come from the Plushie Palace?”

“Yes it did!” Penny repiled. “Almost 100% Viridian Valley Sheep Wool, with some necessary additives! And speaking of the Palace, a representative from them actually wishes to see you quite urgently.”

“Why the rush?” Weiss asked as she pulled her hand back.

“It’s about the terms of repayment for your loan to them, from their buying your debt from the Trader’s Guild and returning your collateral, Winter’s Eluna Plushie.” Penny replied.

“Oh, that, right!” Weiss said, nodding. “I completely forgot about it, so much has happened since then… anyway, can it really not wait? I’m really enjoying myself right now...” she said, gesturing to her breakfast.

“I can understand the sentiment, Weiss, and under other circumstances, I would have encouraged the Palace to please return on another, more convenient date for you, but it really would be prudent to assess this matter as soon as possible.”

“Is it really that serious?” Weiss asked, her body’s glow fading slightly.

“Well, I don’t mean to alarm you, Weiss, but if we don’t come up with a solid plan to make the first payment within the next two weeks, and all future payments after that, there is a very high chance we will default, and have to face legal and economic repercussions that will effectively render us bankrupt for the next five-ten years.”

Weiss blinked. “… I’m sorry, say what again…?”

[dailyaudiobible]

05/23/2018 DAB Transcript

2 Samuel 2:12-3:39, John 13:1-30, Psalms 119:1-16, Proverbs 15:29-30

Today is the 23rd day of May. Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I am Brian. It's great to be here with you today. I hope that your week is doing well. And we're gonna dive back in, picking up where we left off yesterday. And we're just getting going in the book of 2 Samuel and continuing forward in the life of David. This week we're reading from the New Living Translation and we'll read 2 Samuel 2:12-3:39 today.

Commentary:

Alright. So, we have a good amount of political intrigue happening in 2 Samuel. And as we were talking about yesterday, once Saul died it wasn't just David became the king. Because of all of the reasons of succession, right? So Ish-bosheth who was Saul's son and the next in line because some of his brothers had been killed in the same battle that Saul had been killed in, was anointed the king and was protected by the army of Israel, with Abner being the first in command. Joab, on the other hand, was David's first in command of his forces. And let's just remember, these guys all served in one army at one time. They all knew each other. They were high ranking warriors. They all knew each other. But eventually, right? There can't be two kings of one country. And so as time went on things heated up, a battle happened. David's forces won that battle, which left Abner, who was Saul's general, running for his life. And he happened to be being chased by Joab’s brother, Asahel, so the general of David's army. So this is like a really really tight close thing going on. Asahel knows Abner. They've known each other. They've probably fought battles together, but Asahel is chasing Abner to try to kill him. And the battle is going on and Abner’s trying to tell Asahel to stop chasing him because he doesn't want to kill him, right? Abner doesn't wanna kill Asahel because Abner and Joab know each other very very well. But in the end, Asahel is killed in battle. And this isn't murder on Abner's part. That's not the way it's treated because it happened in battle. But later we see the intrigue happen. Ish-bosheth turns on Abner. Abner turns on Ish-bosheth, the king of Israel, and defects to David, bringing the entire country who wants David to be king, along with him. So these two generals, first in command of the military, these guys are highly revered among the people. When Joab realizes that Abner has come to the king even though he doesn't know the whole situation, he can't believe that David would have let him go. And so he and his one remaining brother have a plot and they assassinate Abner, the leader of the Israelite army. Which puts David in a very precarious political position. Here the entire nation is coming around him to anoint him king and oust Ish-bosheth and the family of Saul. But the one who had kind of rallied everyone together around David has been murdered by David's military. That's what it looks like. So even though Abner's killing was a revenge killing, it thrust David into a really really weird predicament politically. So, David's gotta make a move and what we learn, what we see in David, gives us some sage advice. When David finds himself in the wrong, he doesn't bluster and basically stamp his feet and claim, I'm the king. I can do whatever I want. He humbles himself and that's what he does in this situation. He humbles himself. He weeps and mourns for Abner. He knew Abner. He had fought alongside Abner. And it was Abner and Saul who were trying to chase David down. But David knew the life of a warrior and he knew Abner was and he respected that. And he felt as if Israel had lost a mighty military person that day. And he mourned. And he had everyone put on sackcloth and ashes and they mourned. And David sang a song at the funeral. So, all this stuff people are seeing this. And it's helping them see that David didn't kill Abner. Because had that rumor gotten out and had David been blamed for Abner's death, it would have probably led to full blown civil war. But David, the king, the king of Judah, humbled himself, honored Abner. And it turned the people's hearts to David because they knew he didn't do it. That's the story of how this shepherd boy David could become the king of Israel. And we will follow that story tomorrow, but when we move into the book of John, we see a very very similar posture. Here we have God Almighty wrapped in flesh in the person of Jesus enjoying his last meal with his friends when he chooses to do the very awkward thing that he did, which is to jump up in front of them and then disrobe, put a towel around his waist, get a basin of water and wash the filthy feet of his friends. Again, a very humble, gracious, kind thing to do. But this is God down on his knees before his friends, before his creation washing the grime off of their feet. So, in the life of David, we see this humility and it gives us an example in our own lives because what happened was David's humility brought him, actually elevated him to the throne.

And we see God's humility through Jesus in the same fashion. But with Jesus, He used the entire situation as a teaching moment that has vast implications, not only on His friends, His disciples, but on us. Because once He had washed everyone's feet and stood up and wiped His hands off, He said, You call Me Teacher and you call Me Lord and you are right because that's what I Am. So, since I, Your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you oughta wash each other's feet. I have given you an example to follow. Do as I have done to you and God will bless you. So, let's consider this humble posture today. Whose feet can we wash today? And this doesn't have to be disrobing and putting a towel around your waist and getting a wash basin and getting down on your knees and washing someone's literal feet. This posture of humility, especially when it's unexpected, brings such calm to any situation. Jesus said, I have given you an example to follow. What does that look like for you today?

Prayer:

Father, we invite You into that question. What does that look like for us today? We don't necessarily know what that looks like for us today because we don't know the events of the day. But we do know that we must be aware for these opportunities to be Your hands and feet in the world and follow Your example. So, come Holy Spirit. Make us aware and alert of the situations going on around us. And show us how we can walk through this day in humility, knowing that in Your kingdom to be the servant of all is to be in a very high position. Come Holy Spirit, we pray. In Jesus name we ask. Amen.

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Community Prayer and Praise:

Hello Daily Audio Bible family. This is Sean 316. And I don’t know what in the world has taken me so long to call but, well, back in January I lost my job so I called and we’ve been praying ever since for a job or a new opportunity. And somehow, someway, even without a job the Lord has been providing for me and allowed me to take care of my mother without a job and we were able to live as comfortably as when I had a job even without a job. So, it’s like I just had this extra-long vacation. And then out of nowhere the Lord blessed me. When my resources were at their minimum, He decided to bless me a couple weeks ago with a great job. And for some reason I failed to call...just give the Lord praise. Well…Hallelujah. The Lord is worthy to be praised forever and ever. And if there is anyone out there, any brothers or sisters who, like me, failed to call or forgot to call after the Lord has provided you with the answers to your prayers, please call. Please give us an update because it is the word of our testimony that we’re able to overcome. And I just want to thank the Lord and I thank you all for your prayers. And God bless you all.

I’m Tonya. God has convicted me to call in with my testimony. For all of you out there who are dating, who are in relationships, I pray that this message comes across with love because I do not mean it to offend anyone but I just want to tell you my story, my testimony. I did not meet my husband until I was 39 years old and you know why? Because I stayed single for five years because I was done sinning, I was done having sex before marriage and it just convicted me. A Christian woman sat me down and talked with me and it convicted me. When I met my husband, the first thing I asked him on our first date was, was he a Christian. I know for some of you that may not be the path that you choose but this is again my testimony, my story. Met him. Asked if him if he was a Christian. He told me yes. I then, after I was dating a couple of months, and we were having sex, God convicted me after this woman sat me down and I then had to confront him and told him I was no longer willing to sin and I did not want to have a sex anymore until I was married with my husband, whether or not the him or someone else, that’s the decision that I had made. Five years of being by myself just with the Lord. And five months later he proposed. I got married at 40. I had child at 41. So, to all of you out there who are in relationships and you’re not sure, you’re not married yet, I know this is such a hard message for us to grasp because we live in a world with sin and wherever God is doing, and it just seems like a norm. But read these Bible verses. Corinthians 7:3-4, Hebrews 13:4, Mark 7:21-22, Proverbs 5:18-19, Corinthians 7:2, Matthew 5:28, Genesis 2:24. Read these verses. Meditate on the word. I am praying for you all. I am praying that all of us stop sinning. And something else I heard is that we repent. We repent enough to stop sinning. I love you guys. I pray these words come over you with…

Hi. My name is Brenda I’m from Main and I’ve listened to the Daily Audio Bible every day since January 1st of 2015. Thank you, Brian and Jill. I am asking if you could please say a prayer for my beautiful granddaughter, Madison Marie. She’s nine years old and had a terrible accident. Her hand got caught in a treadmill and she’s lost the skin in the nerves on her fingers. Although we haven’t seen a specialist yet the doctor told her mom it will take up to seven years to heal, but in the New Testament, the book of James chapter 5 verse 16, it says that the earnest prayer of a righteous person has great power and produces wonderful results. In verse 50, it says such a prayer offered in faith will heal the sick and the Lord will make you well. We call her Maddie. She just turned herself __ and she was doing so well. Will you please pray for her and ask our Lord to heal her precious little hand. And please pray for her mom and her dad, my daughter and my son-in-law, that they stay strong and they’re blessed with great doctors. I believe. I believe in earnest prayer. I believe in earnest prayer of righteous people and the power that has. I ask our Lord will heal our little Madison. So, I turn to you and ask for that prayer. Please pray with me. Thank you so much.

Hello friends. Calling from the southern Texas front here for a couple of dear friends who are also DABbers, I’m calling in for Burke who has recently been diagnosed with __ disease. __ pray Father. Father, we come to You and just ask Lord, just be here with us Lord as we humble ourselves to You Father. We ask Lord that Your kingdom would come Lord. We ask for healing over Burkes body Father. We ask that his thyroid would be renewed and restored. Lord we see Your hands right now healing him Father. We see Father the regeneration of cells and tissue Father as Your hand works miracles upon his body Father. We pray Lord for just You to continue to work in him Lord, that You would comfort him and console him Lord in the times when he’s feeling scared of the unknown Father. I ask Lord also that You would just begin to Father give him the confidence Lord to know that Your miraculous hand is at work Father. And I pray Lord that there would be forgiveness in all that he is Lord, that there would be nothing entering Your work. From our perspective, that You forgive our sins Father, that we would be working on a clean slate Lord and that Your work would continue to work, Your Holy Spirit would begin to move Lord in all of us Lord. We ask forgiveness for our sins and for anything that we’re holding onto. We release those things to You and we ask for Your whole armor to be upon us Father. Lord, the truth would be wrapped around her waist, righteousness upon our chest, the shoes of the gospel upon our feet, the shield of faith protecting us, the sword of Your word piercing our hearts, and the helmet of salvation protecting our thoughts, our mind, emotions, everything that we are in do the glory of Your kingdom. We love You and we honor You and we praise You in Jesus name. Thank You all family. This is Delta Alpha FoxTrot calling from the southern Texas front.