#fighting for my life over here. Godspeed soldier

[believerindaydreams]

It's Saturday night, I'll write some Colonel Autumn being a dick to Arcade fanfic if I wanna

Autumn

Defending Paradise Falls. Ha.

Up to now the arrangement has been going smoothly enough- the Enclave lets their activities slide, even pays half again what Ashur would for a first pick at quality captives. Given the alternative of being sent north to the Pitt, most people are only too happy to be taken to the shelter of Raven Rock.

Part of the bargain, though, was to save them if anyone should break through the defences- and so that's what you and your men are doing here, responding to Eulogy's urgent plea. Standing at the gate of a settlement wreathed in flame.

"Sir," one of the men says. "Shouldn't we be assisting?"

You watch the slavers, firing for their lives; and the flag of the Temple of the Union waving above Hannibal Hamlin's incinerator squad. A sense of overweening disgust takes you.

"Let them wipe each other out. We'll move in when it's over."

They wouldn't trust the assessment from anyone else; but you're Colonel Autumn, darling of the Enclave, and your word is iron law.

So they hold fire until the battlefield is only a cemetery, bodies of slavers and slaves scattered, and then you nod and they move in. Plenty of flame here to cleanse the corpses, scour this place for keeps.

Ashur will be displeased; well, let him be. It doesn't do to let any one faction in the Wasteland grow too powerful, and there's still too much risk of him rejoining his former allegiance. A Brotherhood with the Pitt's resources at its command could break the Capitol balance of power.

And as for Hannibal...well. President Eden doesn't care for non Enclave heroes.

So he's a particular priority to locate; and when your men report him in the clinic, defended by an Enclave Eyebot of all things, you raise an eyebrow and follow.

They aren't joking. Half its metal fronds are gone, it bobs up and down in a faltering pattern, but it's still functioning somehow. Impressive. They usually explode after the slightest tap-

wait, is this one of those Duraframe models? Damnit, this should have been scrapped already.

It does its best to zap anyone who goes near it; and any of your men could down it at need but they're all holding back, perplexed and disturbed. No one's ever hacked an Eyebot like this before.

There might be a good explanation, of course.

You nod at the Eyebot, draw your gun and place it down again. In its place, you hold out a super stimpak. It beeps, twice, and when you move forward it allows you.

Hannibal is alive, if barely; a medkit will keep him that way for now. The others- a mix of silver Temple armor and those new-fangled Follower coats- aren't wounded quite so badly, you can afford the resources to patch them up.

Somewhere around the second bottle of purified water wasted on someone who might not even be good Enclave material, you realise that you've slipped back into character, Lone Wanderer instead of colonel, and that's a foolish thing to do with your men watching in silence. They shouldn't watch their leader showing softness, or aimlessly pocketing ammo like a common prospector. Maybe it's been too long since you've travelled with Boone.

"I will fight you," Hannibal mumbles, training a lever-action rifle on you.

It has been too long. Taking this sort of risk doesn't befit this uniform. "I'm not trying to kill anyone. Shut up and let the Enclave save you people."

He lets the gun drop, but maintains a hard stare. "I never heard that your men ever left your Vertibirds."

You lean in close. "I stole this colonel's uniform so these folks wouldn't shoot me. They don't know I'm the Lone Wanderer."

His pained face eases into a smile. "That isn't a title to be claimed lightly."

"Believe me, I don't."

He chuckles, accepts the vodka you offer him. "I remember forging a claim just that mad and making it stick...all right then, Colonel. How about the slavers, any of them make it out?"

"No. We made sure."

"Good...Arcade? Arcade, we did it. We're still alive, and it's thanks to your medic skills."

The Follower he's attempting to wake groans, covers filthy glasses with the sleeve of an even dirtier coat. "Take two stims and call me in the morning. I'm done in."

One of the others is waking now, a short woman who was still clutching her shotgun when she passed out. "Hannibal? Arcade? You feel as good as I do?"

"Just about," Hannibal says warmly. "And I'm very proud of you."

She snorts at him. "Enough soft soap. I only helped murder, oh, every slaver in Paradise Falls."

None of your men would talk back to you like that.

For a moment, you wish they might.

*****

Arcade

Well. This is good and bad.

It's good, because the last time he was conscious had left him fairly sure it would be the last. The trip here was meant to be recon, not a full-fledged battle; Hannibal's insistence on always being prepared is all that had saved them. Well, and his own battlefield skills, which have improved of necessity on this coast. And Simone carrying so many guns that everyone in the pen could take one.

And the small Eyebot that's been their secret weapon, going in for the kill in tight spots. He's sure it made the difference between their life and death at the last, when Eulogy and his minions were taking them on personally.

And considering that, thinking of blowing up ED-E seems hugely ungrateful.

He repacks his depleted doctor's bag, feels the heavy weight of the detonator in his pocket. One quick movement and it would be over. Nothing to tie him to a piece of technology that he had no business dealing with in the first place.

An Eyebot bound for Navarro, never even making it out of the Wasteland; and if it reached its goal it would find nothing but dust.

Arcade raises the detonator unobtrusively, looks at the Eyebot. An Enclave scientist is trying to mend it, cursing under his breath as it beeps cheekily, bobbing up and down.

He sighs and doesn't fire, walks back into the clinic to meet Hannibal, who's beaming with pleasure.

"All well then?"

"Frankly, I could have done without the Enclave swooping in to loot everything. Simone's giving me plenty of lip for that. But we've found a few more survivors and the Colonel's men are helping out." His voice softens. "And Paradise Falls is broken forever. We can go back to the Memorial and be at peace, now."

"Actually, Arcade Gannon will be coming with us."

Arcade jumps- not least because he hadn't heard the colonel's footsteps. "Sorry?"

"Can I speak bluntly to you two?" Autumn asks, in an undertone.

"Shoot," Hannibal says, evenly. "Because he seems taken aback by this."

"See, it's like this...my men checked the records, they say he's a deserter. That means either him or his head. I'd rather it be him, you know?"

The soft drawl is attractive, but not enough to distract him from the content. "That's a- a mistake?"

"We have good records," Autumn says, looking apologetic. "And the Eyebot...the Eyebot was a give-away, you know. They wanted to know who did that. And more than that..." His voice lowers. "I need help. Badly. We're supposed to go back to Raven Rock today, and I don't even know where the damn place is."

Arcade looks around to see if any Enclave soldiers are here to witness this remarkable statement. They aren't.

"You get into some funny situations when you're the Lone Wanderer."

"Oh! Boone's friend!"

"...you know him?"

Arcade gulps down an incriminating statement. "Yeah. He shows up at the Followers tent for help with his addictions, he has a weakness for Steady. And moonshine. I tell him to cut back and he never does."

"Sounds familiar," Autumn says dryly. "My vice is vodka- he talks about me? Because I've met more talkative Deathclaws."

"Ooh...um, not that much. But apparently you pay well and you don't sleep enough."

"True enough...and look, I'll be honest with you. This scares me. An in to Raven Rock is the biggest thing I've ever been caught up in, and in twenty minutes I have to head there with no backup. Maybe you could come along?"

"If you're unwilling to go back," Hannibal says, squaring his shoulders. "We'll help you. I don't approve of people being held under duress."

"But I could do so much good by finding out how they tick," Autumn says quietly. "Even if it kills me."

"It will kill you," Arcade blurts out. "You don't know what you're doing here."

The door swings open, a soldier marches in and salutes. "Sir. The Vertibird is warming up."

"You don't have to go," Hannibal says, loading his gun; and Arcade knows that's meant for both of them.

"Duty calls," Autumn says.

And his solemn tone decides Arcade like no rational argument could; a man walking into hell of his own accord with no idea how to get out. Because he's trying to save the Wasteland, because there's no one here to help.

And it isn't even Autumn's responsibility, or heritage, or guilt.

Arcade steps in front of him. "I'm convinced. I'll come back to the Enclave."

It's the thing he's been running from all his life; and he won't let an innocent walk into it alone.

"And the test came back on this, sir. Scientists say it won't explode, but they can't quite figure what it does."

Autumn takes the weapon, gingerly pockets it. "We'll let them loose on it at base."

"Tell the Followers," Arcade starts, and stops. "Tell them I'm dead."

Boone would understand, feeling like destiny has caught up. He won't have the others trapped too.

"I'll honour that," Hannibal agrees. "Godspeed, Follower."

If it's the last time anyone will call him that, there isn't a better man to say it.

That's the last thought he has, as they go outside and start for the Vertibird; because Colonel Autumn doesn't take a chance and shoots him in the back.

The Eyebot that witnesses the act goes down next.

[nighttimepixels]

someone asked me a really fun & interesting question that i got to answer earlier about my girls and now i’m curious about the lilytale ladies, if they were to be goddesses what would each of their domains be?

H… holy hell I love this ask,, guess who is weak for deity-type AUs?? THIS CHICK. It could go so many ways with them, tbh, but let’s go with…

(shortened list here, details about them under the cut! :D)

Serif (Lady UT Sans): Goddess of Stories and Memory

Vellum (Lady UT Pap): Goddess of Exploration and Discovery

Sapphire (Lady US Sans): Goddess of Light and Warmth

Amber (Lady US Pap): Goddess of Muses and Inspiration

Crimson (Lady UF Sans): Goddess of Combat and Bloodshed

Scarlet (Lady UF Pap): Goddess of the Hunt and Cold

Pepper (Lady SF Sans): Goddess of Passion and Greed

Cinnamon (Lady SF Pap): Goddess of Desire and Envy

Blade (Lady HT Sans): Goddess of Harvest and Ritual Madness

Twist (Lady HT  Pap): Goddess of New Growth and Spiritual Ecstasy

Alpha (Lady Q Sans): Goddess of Invention and Ingenuity

Glyph (Lady G!Sans): Goddess of Music and Dance

Dusk (Lady HF Sans): Goddess of the Lost and Forgotten

Dawn (Lady HF Pap): Goddess of the Untamed and Abandoned

Serif (Lady UT Sans): Goddess of Stories and Memory

Be it history or legends or the excitement of a bard’s tale, Serif is the one mortals seek for support in this. She’s a very accommodating goddess, in fact, and though she enjoys offerings of any sort of homemade food or pillow or blanket, her favorite off-beat offering is precisely what she reigns over - a story, told from the heart. Her followers are often the ones seeking to establish celebrations of stories in local communities, both real and fiction, and the murky in between, and the more stories you share or inspire, the more likely you are to find her favor.

Too, if you cross her - or, as mortals tell it, even if you cross her deific sister or strange associated friends of her fellow goddesses, you’ll find your memory wavering in crucial moments, your stories flat, your histories lost, your spark for that weaving of tales that unites all mortals all but severed.

Vellum (Lady UT Pap): Goddess of Exploration and Discovery

She’s a popular goddess not just among those setting out on journeys, but with those attempting to discover things about themselves, or in their field of passion - and particularly amongst children! Loving parents frequently seek Vellum’s blessing to help inspire bright-eyed children to maintain that spark with ever more life. You’ll have even better luck if you offer her sweets or proof of discovery - and most difficult but rewarding of all, if you can bring her something that allows her a discovery and bit of exploration of her own! (Rumor has it, clever puzzles are a great way to go if you’ve a mind for them…)

Her favor usually just recedes rather than turns outright sour if it does at all, and that’s mostly when you prove yourself cruel to others. However, if you purposely snuff out someones sense of wonder & eagerness to discover, you may find yourself on the rare outright bad side of her opinion… and godspeed to any mortal that thinks they can survive long without blessings in regards to discovery in their everyday life.

Sapphire (Lady US Sans): Goddess of Light and Warmth

The rising sun, the kindle of the hearth, the flicker of a lantern, the gentle guidance of the moon and stars - all these are in Sapphire’s domain, and all these make her all the more loved. She’s nothing so raging as fire, but without her mortals would be well and truly lost - and so for her, people tend to rejoice. Her temples are frequently overflowing with offerings, glimmering rocks that catch the light, a blanket laid out to be taken by those less fortunate to keep themselves warm, a warm cup of tea, a few matches.

Her followers are adamant that she particularly prefers things in her domain that can be of use to those who truly need them, and so are open to be taken should the need truly arise. They’re right, of course - though you might find yourself of the very sour side of her favor if you take of (or withhold) these things without need… particularly if it’s on purpose/in spite. Good luck in those cold nights after you’ve proven yourself cruel, when you can’t seem to hide from the whisper of a breeze that snuffs your every match, when the nights seem darker, the stars obscured by clouds… She’s hard to piss off, but not impossible.

Amber (Lady US Pap): Goddess of Muses and Inspiration

Creatives the world over celebrate the blessings of Amber! She’s a tricky one at times, often pictured with an ineffable, almost mischievous smile - her blessings can come with a twist. You may not know how you’ll be inspired, but frequently it’s not how you expect - but that doesn’t mean it’s bad. Her most ardent followers (artists, writers, musicians, craftspeople - but also countless workers of all fields) often laugh as they curse and thank her in the same breath, inspired for a dozen new things as much as their current work.

She’s got a lesser affiliation with seeking help in finding new paths in life in general - but she’s got a good track record with those that think to seek her help in this regard. And hey, if you’re leaving her baked goods or the results of your latest inspiration, then you’re likely in her good graces.

Crimson (Lady UF Sans): Goddess of Combat and Bloodshed

A fierce goddess that some are a bit too nervous to pray to - but most seek her help at some point in life. War and fighting are common topics, which she works with of course, but lesser known is just how ferociously she acts on behalf of a very different kind of bloodshed, too. She’s most often favoring the underdog, those that desperately need her help, who are taken advantage of and in a terrible bind; but this also includes anyone who has periods. Bloodshed amongst mortals means so many things, and when in the dark of the night, she hears the tightly whispered pleas of those who fear what may happen if their cycle doesn’t come, she has a perfect track record of helping them. Too, those that experience pain or other difficult symptoms, she finds ways to help them - it’s not always pain relief, but perhaps some sort of reward for bearing the burden of such regular bloodshed.

She sees the red that stains cloth and skin and ground alike, no matter how looked over it is by most; she believes those that soldier through it deserve more, and provides the strength to continue on, dreams to soothe the aches of the heart in these hardest of days, and a little more sureness of foot to carry your weary body. Her favorite offerings tend to involve good liquor, but she also enjoys those that linger in her temples, offering tales of their hard-won battles - whether with a weapon, or in the mere workings of their life.

Scarlet (Lady UF Pap): Goddess of the Hunt and Cold

While many pray to her during the hard cold months of winter, any hunter would be a fool to embark without offering a prayer to Scarlet. It’s rare they don’t; it’s not so much that she’d be offended and curse their endeavors, but they’re so much more likely to be successful or find some good favor or growth in their ability that it would be a waste not too. She’s a proud goddess, yet also isn’t one to stand much on ceremony; a cold night’s hunt, while taxing, may also find you the most blessed by her. She rarely gives simple blessings; rather, through her work you may find your skill growing. Some opportunity arising during your hunt to become better than you were in some aspect of it. It’s convoluted, yet worthwhile… if you put in the effort and show your dedication to her affinity.

Offerings of some small portion of your hunt certainly go far, but she also enjoys long tales - most particular of hunts of the heart, pursuit of who you love… in a consensual way, of course. Terrible things come to those she finds have been turning their skills in hunting to provide onto hunting to hurt… many have come to a grisly end, legend says, themselves becoming the hunted in their final days as she drew out their ending as a punishment for what they instilled in others by sullying her domain.

Pepper (Lady SF Sans): Goddess of Passion and Greed

Curiously, her followers are quite split on whether her temples should be lavish or spartan; some argue that she most favors passion of the heart and mind, and therefore would most prefer that passion directed in a way that enriches your life and the lives of others, while others argue that she most favors passion of the body, and so her temples ought to celebrate physical feats, both intimate and otherwise. Technically, they’re both right - her domain spans it all. Pepper is the Goddess of all things Passionate; be it your skill or most loved artform or topic, or be it your acts of passion for those you love.

Offerings that prove your passion, though it seems vaguely described, are what she most favors; that has lead to some temples having… closed off, private sections, for passion between people that wish for blessings to keep such passion cultivated, shall we say. She’s also a fiery goddess, and even if you don’t slight her in particular - well, let’s just say if you act to quash the passion of another (providing it’s not actively harming anyone else’s ability to pursue happiness), you’ll pay a heavy price and may find yourself haunted by apathy and a bottomless, unfulfilled greed with none of the satisfaction of acquisition.

Cinnamon (Lady SF Pap): Goddess of Desire and Envy

Some scholars argue that her and her sister’s domains overlap too much - and it’s true, there is overlap, and many find themselves most successful in praying to both of them. Cinnamon’s domain is broad, however, and is a double-edged sword of the most bittersweet variety. More often than not she’s instigating desire in others, of varying kinds; a challenge to overcome, to sort through, to feel ever more alive in your curious mortal coil. Desire can lead to passion, or to joy, or to curiousity or to combat; it can involve discovery, or storytelling, or it can turn dark in so many ways… not the least of which is brooding, broiling envy.

She’s a gateway to many other domains, and is as loved as she is cursed. Best offer her something tasty, or else find a way to offer something that sparks desire in her as well (a tricky matter indeed, but she likes followers that get creative).

Blade (Lady HT Sans): Goddess of Harvest and Ritual Madness

One of several goddesses here who have a twist in their domain; she’s affiliated with autumn for obvious reasons, though any harvest at any time of year is best had with a prayer and offering to her. Most importantly, though, is the celebration of that harvest (especially in the fall) - and the celebration of this cycle of life. In the death of what has been harvested is the life of you and yours; in your life, brings new life, to be harvested in the future again… and on again. It’s a madness of it’s own, the circle of life; and the more you allow yourself (and ideally, as many people as possible) to celebrate in a raucous, near-mad party that indulges in the absurdity of existence, with food and drink and music and dancing, the more your following year will likely see good harvest.

Life is for living is Blade’s opinion, and the opinion of her most ardent of followers. Even in lean years, celebration and letting loose is encouraged as much as can be managed, at least on a single day, if not the usual several. Her offering is the ritual madness itself, combined with the act of feasting and sharing food with others. Those that would take without providing support of some kind, that would take advantage of the harvesters or quash the stolen joy of the festivals… well. They don’t just have bad luck. Whispers in the winter say such people might just disappear.

Twist (Lady HT  Pap): Goddess of New Growth and Spiritual Ecstasy

Often affiliated with Spring and Summer too, she nonetheless has domain over new growth in other times of the year… and, most pointedly, over growth that doesn’t relate to plants, too. While every farmer worth their salt offers prayers and first blooms to Twist come planting season, so too do people looking to embark on new paths, to become someone better, someone they can strive to be proud of. Too, she welcomes those that don’t know to pray to her… that don’t know how much they need that growth. It’s up to them whether they notice the subtle opportunities that arise under being under her watchful eye, whether they take the step in a positive direction, but she always hopes.

The madness of spiritual ecstasy is associated with her, too. It’s the sensation of breaking through an emotional wall you’d never thought you’d find crumbling under your desperate hands; it’s the vibrance of a dawn after a storm you never should have survived. It’s the incandescent moment of connection with a person your soul sings for; it’s the moments you’re moved to tears, your throat closing, your body trembling as every sense takes in too much atop a heart that cannot bear the agonizing beauty of a moment. It’s the power in a hand that’s always been too weak to bear what you witness yourself nonetheless bearing; it’s the ecstasy of a thousand voices rising in unison, bonded in the name of a single movement. You can pray for it all you want, but it is no easy thing to get; and yet such moments are of her orchestration, a madness you could never bear for long and yet could spend your entire life treasuring the few stolen moments you’ve had.

Alpha (Lady Q Sans): Goddess of Invention and Ingenuity

Little and small inventions alike, clever ruses and brilliant arguments, moments of connecting those two seemingly unconnectable dots - these are all under Alpha’s domain, and she relishes them. It’s a little madness in and of itself, sometimes, but should you cave to seeking it and see it through, you’ll see why her followers are so adamantly devoted. Her temples are akin to science and art museums, at times; prototypes left for her, people reciting brilliant breakthroughs in arguments, children convening to exclaim over their clever game or some connection that had never been explained, yet they made anyways.

Alpha doesn’t discriminate based on any strata of society, and in fact favors underdogs herself… and more intriguingly, is known to be amused by those who attempt to be clever in their prayers too- so long as it’s in good faith, and not just to be an ass. She’s been known to make an ass of those who try to turn cleverness to cruel advantage, and people murmur about those that get a bit too big for their breeches being cursed after flaunting being blessed by her and get greedy or forget to give thanks where it’s due (not just to her, but to the others around the person that made their invention/ingenuity possible).

Glyph (Lady G!Sans): Goddess of Music and Dance

As on the tin, her domain is precisely what you’d expect. There’s not a festival or celebration that doesn’t feature cheers to her, and every musician the land over frequents her temples which are never quiet. Some pray to both her and Amber, seeking inspiration in their music and dance, others combine their offerings between her and Pepper, seeking passion in their art, and still others pair her and Serif, in their effort to tell stories through music and dance- this doesn’t phase Glyph as goddess, and in fact she tends to appreciate those who connect her to other goddesses the most. Truly, she can be connected to them all, and her followers believe that she is in fact happiest when these connections are forged.

Her offerings most frequently come in the form of her domain itself, followers and prayers offered via songs or dances in her name, but too people may find themselves with her blessing if they offer their time to help others with their own music and dance, sharing the love and life of it. Rumor has it that wherever you find celebrations, where music beats with the footsteps of the dancing crowd, you may just find the silhouette of the goddess herself, dancing and inspiring song without people wholly realizing just whom they shared such a moment with.

Dusk (Lady HF Sans): Goddess of the Lost and Forgotten

Her temples are fewer and further between; in truth, there are only one or two that could even be truly called that. More frequently, small shrines are offered to her. At the edges of dark, haunting forests, on misty, cold beaches and at the edges of vast deserts… and too, in the shadows of dark alleyways, where people can be forgotten in plain sight. People who find themselves lost pray to her, quiet and desperate and alone, no matter how many people are around them. Those that pray, however abstractly, on behalf of those lost and forgotten, too, may find blessings as well, guiding lights home when the night seems too dark to get there, the call of a bird that draws them back to a path, or perhaps the flicker of a connection, an outreached hand, when they were in danger of losing themselves not physically, but emotionally or mentally.

She is not a popular goddess, but she is the quiet sort, at the edges of society; those that seek her help, truly, will rarely find themselves turned away, even if what they receive in turn is not what they expected. She has a particular affinity for those who find themselves lost while trying to help others, or while trying to resist the pressures that would have them or their loved ones otherwise crushed. She doesn’t expect much in offerings; curiously enough, simply a heartfelt prayer, and perhaps a return to a place you nearly lost yourself to lay down a blanket, or some food for another lost soul, will have you greatly in her favor indeed.

Dawn (Lady HF Pap): Goddess of the Untamed and Abandoned

Sister goddess to Dusk, of course, many confuse their domains, and yet their overlap is not as great as people would think. Whether it’s the untamed wilds or the untamed spirit, fighting viciously for what it believes in, it falls into her massive domain. So too are those not just lost or forgotten, but truly abandoned, by the will of someone who had the power to choose otherwise. Gentle to those affected by her domain, and vicious to those that landed them there, she’s a lesser-understood goddess who has a small but fierce following. Her temples are less temples and more… holy sites, in a way, some wild piece of landscape with a shrine built that is almost part of the landscape itself.

Her offerings tend to be supplies laid for those that are abandoned, simple things; but too, she has an affinity for wildflowers and rough crystals. You’ll have the best luck if the wildflowers are native and planted by her shrine, rather than cut down (where it will inevitably wilt and die); those that have received her blessing will often speak in awed, hushed tones of a great silhouette in the distance, five, six, seven times the height of a human… not an omen of ill fate, but a harbinger of a blessing they thought might never come.

[kaiju-z]

Seon Adventures, Episode 34: The Journey to Tutum

When last we left off our adventurers, the party had prevented a duel to the death between Mournimar and a duelist, hired by his ex-boyfriend, follower of Potencia Lazarus, rescued a talking Celestial Warlock Dog named Samson by brutally overkilling a group of deserters from the war and reached the border of Aetorumia and the neighbouring lands.

In the evening, while Malak confronted Luctan over his past behavior and gifted him an Orb of Direction, Samson the Corgi nearly escaped with his life, avoiding a fight with the spirits ithat dwelled within the well he attempted to steal money from. In the morning, Malak would express his displeasure in the party’s actions against the ex-soldiers, empasionately as Malak would allow himself demanding that they could and should do better than this, before also gifting them items of their own.

A Pipe Of Rememberence for Jun, a Handy Spice Pouch for Belli and a Pot Of Awakening for Mournimar. He would then finish his meal outside, before the five + Samson would reconvene on their journeys...

To everyone’s surprise, however, at some point, while Malak bought a map, Luck made a 7 gold coin offering at the shrine and the rest restocked any provisions they might have sacrificed on the journey so far, Samson had trotted off on his own little adventure. A one dog army~!

After paying the Innkeeper handsomely for her food and donating for her establishment’s futue, the party would get in their carriage and, led by Kevin and Killer, make their way out the border town, their eyes taking in the massive expands of sands and dunes. No structures in sight, Malak being quite familiar to it. Having known this shit and the thought he’d said goodbye to it coming back to haunt him.

Before the group could leave on their weeks long journey, a laugh would catch their ears and as they’d turn their heads in the direction of the amused fellow, they’d see an aged orange haired man with a shit eating grin, making japes at the group for traveling as they appeared. In plates and leathers and all that sort of stuff.

Questioning the scarred man’s attitude, the party would note that he appeared off-proportioned in a way. Somewhat dwarven, but much taller. A Half-Dwarf!

While Jun asks him if he could guide them, which he planned to offer his services for the very pricey 2 PIECES OF GOLD FOR EACH SIDE OF THE TREK, Malak would recognize his colors as being of the Galorum army. Old enemies of Aeterumia, during the war. But to Malak, that was old news. Yesterday’s enemy was today’s ally and all that.

With a wooden leg and a confident demeanor, Arryn, as he introduces himself to the party and they back to him, appeared to be the kinda guy who just hopes for work. And work he finds as the party accept him on this long journey, to guide them and keep them from walking off the path.

It pretty quickly sets in on the team just how hot it can be in the desert. And the air itself was so thick. Extra THICK, even! It felt like there was led in the air or some thing at later evenings they’d spend out in the open.  Temperatures being like under a blanket, but also nasty and humid.

The guide would mention it being left over bad energy from the war. The area is inflicted with the worst vibes. The vibes that took Arryn’s leg.

Days would pass. Weeks even as the group advanced through the dunes, past hills and rocks and rocks and small mountains around them, generally peacefully, with the exclusion of any foul business. Sure enough, Arryn was a trusted guide through these parts, getting them through the sands, to some more solid areas of rock and gravel.

The walk was a lot more even and paced from there, with the obvious dunes carrying on in the distance, but something would catch the travelers’ attention. Bones. They’d see lots of bones. Almost like a trail of them, leading to this sheer clear cliff face.

Investigating them, Malak would note that they were weirdly in tact, some of them. Dead and untouched. But there’s kind of a little curve around the corner, where the bone trail leads… He’d pick up a skull and cast “Speak With Dead”

“EYY!” the awoken skull would commence.

And the questions and answers would begin.

1. “How did you die?”- “Well, I was walking, right? And then there was this hot and cold stuff. And then it was just everywhere and it was really hot? And there was this big flappy beast behind me.”

2.  What were you doing out here?” “Me and my friends were following a trail of bones and figured whatever did this’gotta be guarding some good shit.”

3. “Were you being guided by a peg legged man?” –“No, we didn’t get a guide. We thought it was a waste of treasure and had to share.”

4.  “Did you have anything on you?” “I mean, we had our weapons and armor.”

5. “Is there anyone you’d like informed?” – “If me mate Chaz made it, he’s probably back at Havik by now.”

With the air of life leaving the skull, Malak would update the crew on his findings. From there, Jun would elect to poke the distracted Bard and suggest she send Orion to investigate the inner sanctum of the bone yard.

Orion slinks off and his body shrinks into the size of a normal cat, much to Belli’s amusement and the rest’s shock and awe.

He sneaks around the corner. Belli looks through his eyes. What happens is that he turns the corner and there’s this huge mammoth bone. Think elephant graveyard. He walks under that and he does a perceive... He steps out into the open, looks back where he came from and then Belli notices that the ground gets further away.

A pause. And poof. He’s gone.

Mournimar sneaks in, next, with a rope around his waist and careful maneuvering, feeling unseen as he makes his way through the yard, while Malak casts Aid on Arryn and the ladies. As the low armored part of the team.

With a careful eye, Mournimar sees the source of all these corpses. And as the Rogueish Ranger would raise his head up, the others would follow suit. And sea an Adult Blue Dragon, staring confusedly at his clawed mits, wondering where his quick little meal went. A  great big fuck off blue dragon.

Electing to avoid a fight with the dragon, for now, the group would carefully maneuver their way back to the carriage and do a big twist to avoid being directly seen by the dragon as they’d carry on and cross a river, along the way..

One evening, during shifts, Luctan taking the first... the disguised tiefling would wake Jun and ask her for her presense during his watch. The two would hold a private conversation, regarding Jun’s offer to hear him out, where they’d discuss the matter of trust, personal insecurities and pain, the understanding of pain and treatment of pain... Capping things off with a genuine interest in learning how to carry on, after a tragedy, something which the unmasked red tiefling had trouble getting to terms with.

By the end of the 1st watch, Luctan and Jun would come to an understanding and carry on with talks when the time allowed it. But until then, Luck would wake Mournimar to follow through with the second sentry outlook, while he rested.

Mournimar’s watch would be uneventful, compared to what had occured in his dreams... Something he’d share with Belli, when the first signs of morning would come up.

The enthusiastic cook would poke for information, which the Tiefling Ranger would share, regailing Belli with a tale of his dream, wherein he was visited, or more like... found himself in Jorzoth’s office. One of the Archdevils had brought him in for a 1 on 1 pow-wow, where in he’d inform the archer of Lazarus’ intentions with the duelist.

Lazarus had intened, through this duel, for Mournimar to best his contractor as a means to check in on his ex.

...

To say that this is a  weird way of checking on your ex, would be an understatement. And yet, that was the story he’d tell, through bites of an omlette.

In Mournimar’s own words, the break up and Potencia really changed him. Lazarus? He’s someone in need of praise. He used to be good and he was never like this before Potencia. There were... clear regrets there, in Mournimar’s mind and heart.

But Belli would protest to this thinking as you can’t change someone, who doesn’t want to change. While Mournimar doesn’t want him to be like how Mournimar was as a child, Belli reminds her friend that Lazarus is an adult, It’s his choice to make.

Breakfast is had amongst the group and Arryn remarks that this is the best hospitality he’s had. Ever.

From there? They’d venture forth and Malak tries to call Chaz. With a D100 he Sends a message to the dude. He gives him the full story, as best as possible. Chaz is sad, but the funeral was done already. He regets the nasty stuff he’s said over the year. But is greatful. Godspeed!

Drawing near to a river, Luctan would give Belli her pot. Like. Literal pot that had been in his posession for about a month now, give or take. Within one of the ceramic pots there were 10 silver ball bearings, each spelling a letter in Belli’s name.

And in turn, Belli would give Luck 5 smoke bombs. And she’d even show him her stash of a variety of bombs. Which she had been planning on using with the help of Orion as a dive bomber.

Stupified by his friend’s madcap ideas, Luck would be quiet for the most part during the next part of the journey as they’d cross over the river on a bridge and go through a town, populated by kobolds of different scales.

Initially weary of the group, they’d soon enough relax and observe, even follow them along as the party carried on through the town, when Malak appied his knowledge of the Draconic tongue, holding a friendly conversation with the locals, while Luck used his Prestidigitation to create funny images and smells for the kids.

As the town of Odum generally doesn’t generally get visitors, the party are kind of a treat to them. Through the talk, a kind of friendship forms with the Kobold settlement and the party learn that the dragon of the desert was quite the nasty one. Every time they’d send someone over to check what his demeanor was, they’d have to send another one, to check as well, because no one ever came back.

Mental note.

In the midst of this conversation, Jun would make friends with two of the littlest kobold kids, who’d climb on her and ask her all kinds of questions. Like why her face was the way it was. She’d happily use her shapeshifting power to appear like a Golden Dragonborn, much to the kids’ amusment.

With friendship in their heardts, the party would eventually carry on, venturing forth! Arryn would warn them that the next week is just gonna be desert. There’s a lake at some point, but that’s our lot.

While the week’s travel carries on, Belli shows off her vocal skills as she speaks in a few new languages she had picked. Among which was Dwarven, much to Luck’s shock. And frustration. ‘cause it took him 3 years to learn that on his own!

(”What? Like it’s hard.”)

Arryn, however, upon hearing Belli speak in Dwarven turns pale. When asked if he’s ok, the half-dwarf would reveal that anyone’d be shocked on hearing a nearly dead language.

In one day the dwarves and dragonborn in the area died off. Green evil magic took then down. Arryn survived, because he is part human. Malak knows this to be the effect of the Blight spell, but on a major level.

Jun suggests Steamroot to help with the pain. Her partner was hit with that spell and it had helped manage that. Arryn’s greatful for the suggestion.

They’d venture forth, once more, parallel to the main road. Mournimar asks about why we’re not on the main road. Bad things, ghosts, appear on the main road. Ghosts of the Dragonborn, particularly dangerous spirits.  Spirits are his expertise and avoiding them is where the expertise is at.

One particular night, deep into their expedition, Arryn asks them over a warm evening meal where exactly they were headed. Not to Tutum itself, right?

The party reveal some of what they’re after, but that seems to be more than enough for Arryn to put 2 and 2 together. 

“Of course, it’d make sense for them to eventually send someone to clean their tracks.” he’d remark, which in turn would push the party to question him on what he meant.

Arryn would say that it was never confirmed, but implied that the Council was involved in what happened to the dwarves and dragonborn. According to him, as he’d elaborate on events from the battle, as he was a soldier at the time, two dragons were in on the plan. One was dragged off to Guan and the other slain by the King’s Blade, which was burried within the tomb, onward.

Before anyone can stop her, a furious Belli’d send a message to River, demanding answers that she wasn’t even sure of the Halfling would have.

A hurt River would reply back with as much as she claimed to know, which was that this was a private job being done for a benefactor she couldn’t disclose. Upset, she’d question if Belli mistrusted her now?!

A debate is held on how to proceed.

Ultimately, the party  agree to go talk to the sword and get the facts straight. From there they’d see where they’d go..

Arryn would remark with surprise on how quickly they’d trust what he had to say had any truth to it. 

As the journey continued, they’d avoid the ghost town. Like. Town of ghosts. And keep going and going to a cave with funky carving.

There are carvings of a Tiefling with a big, big chonky sword. Fighting a dragon. An outline of an army that kind of fades and half of them disappear... 

Underneath this is this really fine intricate dwarven lettering and runes. As we get to the shrine, we end the session. 

Previous Episode / Next Episode

[kassies-take]

Super Shadowed

Warning: Angst

Danvers sister x b!danvers

Word Count: 2342

Part 1 || Finale

The day Krypton exploded Kal-El was sent to Earth and so was Kara Zor-El. What people didn’t know was that another member from the House of El was also sent to Earth. You were only eight when Krypton exploded, due to your smaller frame you crawled into the leg space as Kara sat in her seat.

When the pod got knocked off course from Krypton’s debris, Kara shielded your eyesight from seeing its destruction. You could tell she was scared too but she was doing her best to be the older sister.

There was only one time you woke up in the Phantom Zone and that was the most alone you’ve ever felt with Kara asleep, then you realized it has always been this way. You didn’t know how long you were awake. It could’ve been minutes, hours, days or even years. All you knew was that Fort Rozz was just out the window and that your life was going to be spent with Kara in a pod.

Earth was a whole different experience. If Kara was quiet you were quieter. This worried Kara, you were always the energetic bubbly kid sister, but she understood after losing a planet full of family and friends, it was difficult. You were both told to keep your powers hidden and only you kept true to those words. When your powers manifested you didn’t use them as much as Kara did.

While Kara was so hell-bent on being a hero you wanted nothing more than to be seen as a regular human. You were always overshadowed on Krypton and the moment Kara came out as Supergirl it all came back to you. How Alura favored Kara, how you were always babied by Eliza, Kara and even Alex, and ultimately how literally empty it felt to be in the Phantom Zone. Only Krypton and Earth were lonelier.

You made it clear to Alex and Kara that you didn’t want to be some hero. But that didn’t stop the three of you from being three peas in a pod. You and Kara fought over food, you and Alex teased Kara with her taste of music and there was never enough room on Kara Danver’s couch when you visited from school.

While Kara followed in Clark’s footsteps to be a journalist and reporter you put your mind to technology. After high school you went to M.I.T and received a job offer by Lena Luthor herself once you graduated.

Kara only managed to convince you to strap on the cape when she fell downhill with the whole I sent Mon-El away and now he’s married. Your suit was the same blue but the yellow and red were white and that was really when Superfriends knew of you at all.

“There’s another Danvers sister!” Winn beamed.

“(Y/N),” you introduced.

“T-that’s very human,” Winn stared at Kara

“(Y/N), abandoned her Kyptonian name. Kasa Zor-El.”

“Because Krypton is not here anymore!” You scoffed at the stares you received before you threw in the towel and flew away from Kara’s apartment.

Kara flew after you as you hovered over the city skyline.

“Kasa,” Kara pleaded with concern.

“Stop Kara, that’s isn’t my name!”

“Yes it is. This is how you keep Krypton alive. I get it, I really do. You had a life there, family, friends. But it’s been fifteen years, and on the way here I lost you.”

“I had no friends or family on Krypton!” You snapped.

“W-What are you talking ab-”

“I-I’m not talking about blood Kara. I had family yes but ieiu (mom) favored you, Aunt Astra loved you, Earth even loves you. I felt and still feel awuhkh (abandoned).” You said it in Kyptonese knowing it had more effect on Kara.

Kara’s face only fell in sorrow as she looked at you with pity. Something you definitely didn’t need.

“Kar, this is why I didn’t tell you. I don’t need your pity, especially after I told you.”

“That doesn’t explain how you got like this. You use to be so bright and cheery.”

“Nice to know I’m dark and moody,” you rolled your eyes and flew off towards the Fortress of Solitude.

“That’s not what I meant (Y/N)!” Kara screamed after you on your tail.

“KARA! YOU WEREN’T AWAKE. YOU DIDN’T SEE WHAT I SAW!” You landed in the snow

“What are you talking about?”

“The Phantom Zone,” you sighed. “I sat in our pod and looked into the empty void. At first I was afraid, but with Kryton’s debris around I realized that the empty void I stared at was just a reflection of my life on Krypton and now on Earth,” You eyes filled with tears and so did Kara’s.

“I didn’t know you felt that way ie (sister).”

“I’ve tried Kara. I’ve tried to go back. Krypton was my planet but it wasn’t my home. I don’t think I can stay here anymore. I’ll help you with your problem but I need to find my home.”

Kara pulled you into a hug, one that if your DNA didn’t hold Kryptonian DNA would surely break your bones.

Apparently Kara and Alex thought it would be a good idea to head to Barry’s Earth for his wedding. Kara thought meeting the whole gang would help you find a home within yourself, Alex just wanted you there cause despite your powers you were still her little sister.

Having seen the way Kara’s friends adored Kara made it worse. During the rehearsal dinner as Kara reconnected with her friends and Alex drank the night away, you were nowhere to be seen.

You sat over the edge of Jitter’s roof with your lead lenses glasses twirled in your hands. Yellow lighting appeared with a gust of wind behind it.

“So how do you know Barry or Iris?” A voice came behind you.

“Barry, when he went to Earth-38 and helped my sister.”

“Ah so you’re the famous Kasa Zor-El,” the voice approached you.

“(Y/N),” you turned to your right side.

“Wally,” he sat next to you. “I know that look, it’s the look of being in the shadows.”

You looked at Wally questionably as he continued.

“You have the same powers or you’re even better than the hero yet people only see you as the sidekick. You have powers yet people still see any threat as something you can’t handle. You try your hardest but will always remain number two a second option if their hero is gone.”

“I relate on a whole different level. I mean my Earth does not need another Super. Supergirl always saves the day,” you mimicked the tabloids.

You and Wally shared a good laugh or two as the person in the shadows. It felt nice to have someone you can relate too but as always the heroes need a babysitter for their hero work. That’s how you found yourself when Nazis stormed the church.

You and Wally were put on guarding duty.

“So what’s the game plan?” Wally asked with you trailing behind him.

“There is none yet. Whoever attacked us knows who we are, so just get Joe and Cecile as far as possible,” Barry explained.

“(Y/N), I want you to go with them,” Kara pleaded from the cortex entrance.

You looked between Kara and Barry.

“No way, we can help out,” you and Wally said together.

“You guys are helping by keeping our family safe,” Barry and Kara said in sync.

“They’re right, until we know what they’re planning, no one is safe,” Joe agreed.

Kara and Barry both gave a head nod as you and Wally sighed in defeat. Wally headed out with Joe first and as you prepared to leave you muttered a word of your feelings.

“Awuhkh, ” you said again before disappearing.

Though being a hero isn’t your forte, after the conversation you had with Wally you were not going to sit idly by while Nazis invaded Central City. It wasn’t your city but you did have the power and the knowledge to figure out what the Nazis wanted.

This was where you had more knowledge with than Kara. Now all you needed was a laptop or computer.

You connected to surveillance cameras of Star Labs to the screen and watched the process. Wally stood behind you as you both watched and pieced together the information given to you.

“Huh,” you laughed as Felicity found a location before a realization hit you that the prism they were after would mimic the red sun. “Oh crap.”

“What, What is wrong?” Wally asked.

“This prism can be altered to mimic the affects of the a red sun,” you explained.

“What does the red sun do?”

“Due to the yellow sun Earth has, Kryptonians are able to have different abilities. And the red sun gets rid of our powers, in short we will be humans.”

“So they’re trying to kill Kara?”

“But something isn’t making sense if they wanted to kill Kara they could just use Kryptonite.”

“Unless they’re making her body weak enough to cut her skin,” you physically snapped at Wally’s prediction and began typing.

The monitor zoomed into Alex with the Kryptonite arrow. Wally raised the volume at the previous recorded message with Earth X Kara having too much radiation

“Oh my god,” you froze.

“They’re using Kara as transplant.”

“And they just walked themselves into a trap.”

“You have to go,” Wally looked at you.

“What?”

“If Kara is going to be fighting herself there may be another version of you, I’ll stay here with Joe and Cecile. They need you more than they need me.”

“Godspeed Wally,” you patted him on the back before he pulled you into a hug.

“Go get em,” he smiled.

As you flew back to Central City what you planned on the way there was definitely a plan Kara Danvers wouldn’t like.

Getting through the Nazi soldiers that was the easy part, getting tthough to Kara X that was a different story. You walked towards Kara’s scared heart beat as you breathed in some confidence with what you were about to do.

You stood on the further side where the “red sun” couldn’t touch, you hid from Nazi soldiers that patrolled between the hallways before you headed towards the red room.

“It’s not going to work, you’re not going to get what you want,” you heard Kara say as you built up enough courage and walked towards the room.

“Really,” Kara X said and hovered over Kara

“Yes, really.” You’re own voice surprised you with how much power it had.

“Kasa,” Kara X stood in shock. “You died on Krypton!”

“In your universe maybe,” you stood your ground.

“And what. You’re going to stop me?” Kara X scoffed.

“No, I came for an offering.”

“(Y/N), you don’t have to do this!” Kara struggled to get out of her restraints.

“And what do you have to offer?”

“My healthy, younger heart in exchange for Kara and my friends freedom.”

You kneeled on your right leg with your right hand above your heart and your head slightly bowed. A Kryptonian promise.

“Kasa Zor-El! Don’t do this!” Kara was on the verge tears.

“Your sister died on Krypton, this way you will always have her with you,” you ignored Kara.

“I have to admit, normally I wouldn’t like such weakness but any warrior who faces their death with no fear is honorable,” Kara X beamed.

“She would’ve done the same for me.”

“Deal!”

As if on cue Thawne rushed in with Führer. Kara X and him shared a kiss before Thawne patted the gurney for Kara X to lay in.

“We’re going to need a new lab, I made a deal with my sister here,” Kara X pointed to you as Oliver and Thawne looked at you. “An exchange of her heart for her older sister’s freedom.”

“We don’t know if she’s a match,” Oliver growled.

“Do you dare defy me my husband?”

“No,” he puffed.

Thawne smiled “Don’t worry Kara Zor-El And Kasa Zor-El are practically twins.”

“Can the procedure be done on the Wellenreiter?” Oliver asked.

“With the prism it can be done anywhere.”

Kara X nodded, picked up Oliver and flew towards their version of the Waverider.

“Kara Zor-El ukiem, :zhalish. (Kara Zor-El I love you as my family, forgive me)”

You followed closely behind as Thawne smirked at Kara before he took the prism and disappeared. Kara still had the effects of the red sun in her system, she struggled harder and harder to release herself from the restraints as the leather dug into skin and drew drops of blood when Iris and Felicity entered the room.

“Kara,” Iris freed the restraints.

“W-where are the Nazis?” Felicity asked.

“Kara!” Alex threw the gun to the side and hugged Kara.

“Alex! They took her,” Kara cried. “They took (Y/N).”

Kara immediately wiped her tears and jumped onto the floor determined to get rid of her culture to save her sister. Only she has never felt as weak as she did at the moment as she collapsed onto her knees. She tried to get back up, the harder she tried the harder her body shook.

“Kara take it easy,” Alex held Kara once again.

“A-alex I c-can’t l-lose h-her,” Kara cried.

“I know, but if you go out there now. You will be killed!”

In that moment Kara finally felt you felt on Krypton, The Phantom Zone and even times on Earth. She hated it, she hated the lonely feeling even when the room was filled with friends and family, and she hated that you felt this way for you while life. A scream that rivaled the Canary erupted from Kara.

The whole room fell silent with goosebumps from Kara’s screams. No one has felt someone else’s pain as they did with Kara’s. It was the type of agonizing scream that puts any other thought on hold and drags everyone in a nearby vicinity into the same agony Kara was feeling. She lost her blood sister and felt guilty that you would never find the home you yearned for.

[mentalmimosa]

no place in the world left to go

They’re at a flophouse in Rome, a hotel so rundown that no fleas would set down their bags, and Tony’s tired, fuck, is he. The kind of tired that only scotch on the rocks, keep ‘em coming and an icy blonde with a nice rack can fix.

But there’s no blonde here. There’s only Bucky, a roughshod sergeant with dirt from the forests of France under his fingernails, still. They’ve been in Italy almost a week.

Which is why when the sergeant turns from the window and pulls off his shirt, the view is pretty but also rank.

“Need a bath,” Barnes grunts. “I saw taps down the hall.”

Tony waves his hand and doesn’t bother to raise his head from the bed. “Sally forth, then, soldier, and be clean.”

Bucky takes the view with him. But sadly not the smell: sweat and blood and something else, something even more pungent. Tony takes it in, lets it out, sticks it. Ah yes, he thinks, weary. That’s grief.

Steve Rogers, the Allies’ last great hope, had been dead for a fortnight, as the Brits say. 14 days, two weeks--whatever way you slice it, he’s dead and now Hitler’s winning the race. It was a propaganda boon. It still is. Tony’s gut says it might be enough to carry Germany to the finish line. There’s the Manhattan thing back at home, but the boys there have been too goddamn slow, and who’s fault is that, now? Not Tony’s. They’d booted him out of their secret club a few years before.

He isn’t bitter about that anymore. Mostly.

He’d loaned himself out to Churchill’s men and that had been a better fit for a while; they’d seen his value, the British, and given him money to play with and men, so many men eager to do what they could for Old Blighty and for Tony, eventually. They fell easy for him, those Englishmen, happy to spread their cheeks for the cause because they all wanted to be chosen as the world’s first Super Soldier: rich men and poor ones, Scottish and Irish and Welsh, each ready to pay for the privilege if necessary and oh, Tony was damn good at convincing them that it was.

But in the end, it hadn’t been his call after all. No, Winston had phoned his friend Franklin and the president had send his choice across the ocean and delivered him to Tony’s front door.

“Hi,” the kid had said, confident despite the skinny legs and big ears. “I’m Steve Rogers, sir. You must be Mr. Stark.”

“What the fuck,” Tony had said through a head full of hangover. “You’re Steve Rogers?”

That’d only made the guy stand up straighter. “Yep. Mr. Roosevelt sent me, sir. I was told you’d be expecting me.”

“Expecting, yes. You? Pffft.” Tony had turned his back and wandered back into the cool dark of his lab. “Fuck no.”

It had taken a lot of convincing and a flurry of all-caps coded telegraphs, but in the end, Tony had gone with it and strapped the kid into his machine and made--if he did say so himself--a hell of a man with a chip on his shoulder when it came to Tony a fucking mile wide. But Tony liked that about him, liked that he was mouthy when the brass wasn’t around, liked that Steve had a bit of temper that even after the serum a little well-placed whiskey could bring out.

“You,” Steve had hissed in his ear the first time Tony got fucked, bent over a workbench with screwdrivers biting his arms, “you are the bane of my existence, Stark.”

It was hard to sass with that thing in his ass, but he managed. “Then get the hell off me, asshole.”

Steve had laughed then, laughed and pulled Tony closer, squeezed his hips tighter. “No. I like screwing you too much.”

It was fun while it lasted, but then, of course, Steve had a job to do, didn’t he? To go and win a goddamn world war.

“You’ll miss me when I’m gone,” Steve murmured that last night, his mouth pressed to the back of Tony’s neck. “You’re gonna miss me so much.”

They were in Tony’s bed and Steve was fucking him through it and Tony was crazy to come, dying for it, but Steve’s fist around the base of his dick was a bitch .

Which was why he’d lied, whispered “I won’t” even though he knew that shit wouldn’t fly.

Steve nuzzled his throat and Steve slammed into him again and again and Steve didn’t make him take it back, didn’t call him on it, didn’t have to, so bald was the lie. And when Steve had come, he'd bitten the meat of Tony’s shoulder and howled and was still spurting when he'd open his fist and muttered “Come” and Tony'd gone firehose in the sheets and screamed for what felt like a week.

“Yeah,” Steve said when they were face to face again, when he was weaving his fingers through the mess on Tony’s stomach and Tony was panting like he’d just run the three-minute mile. “You will.”

*****

They hadn’t seen each other for years after that, not until 1944 when the Battle of the Bulge went south and with it, everybody knew, the Allies’ advantage. Russia had drained Hitler’s forces but the Bulge fiasco gave the Germans the victory they needed to get the homefront onboard with the war effort again.

Times were bad. Tony’s life, too. He hadn’t been able to get the serum to take in anyone after Steve and the Brits had taken his tech and booted him out. He was one wrong bottle of rum from sleeping on the goddamn street.

But then the telegram had come from a holdout area in France: SR WOUNDED. DOCTORS USELESS. COME. And then a set of coordinates, which he had chosen to ignore, because how the fuck was he going to zip across the channel while dodging Nazi arms? He'd comforted himself with bathtub gin and no ice. It was probably a prank, anyway.

In the morning, though, there’d been a knock--10 minutes worth, actually--delivered by a no-nonsense woman bearing Army boots and flak jacket.

“Put these on,” Captain Carter had said brusquely. “We’re crossing the channel in five hours. Tell me, do you have your own gun?”

“Do I--?” He’d blinked in the dusty sunlight she’d brought into his flat. “No.”

She crossed her arms and pointed at his pants, waited until he’d picked them up. “Well. You do know how to shoot at least, surely.”

“Not really.”

“Christ on a cracker. A word of advice, Mr. Stark: don’t repeat that to anyone. If asked, you’re a crack shot with your daddy’s pistol, which I shall provide, and you shall carry as if you know what the business end is for, hmm?”

It’d taken almost a full day to get from London to the middle of some fairytale forest in France where Steve Rogers, that bastard, was trying his damnedest to die. He was gray when Tony bent over him, gray and without that sharp, fuck you light in his eyes.

“Docs can’t do anything for him,” a dark-haired guy crouched by Steve’s head said. “They got the bullets out ok, but the wounds won’t close, even with real tight stitches.”

“Bucky threatened to nail ‘em shut,” Steve croaked.

“And I would have, too, if somebody hadn’t stolen my hammer.”

“Boys,” Tony’d said, easing back the blood-stained dressings. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Steve thought it might have something to do with the serum,” Captain Carter had said on the way over as the boat skipped silently through the waves. “He’s never been cut so deeply before, so he wasn’t sure if there’d been changes to his blood chemistry that might be interfering with the healing process.”

“Shouldn’t be,” he’d told her, repeated to himself again and again. “Not by design, anyway. But intent only gets you so far, huh?”

Now, staring down at the putrid mess that was Steve Rogers’ chest, all he could think of were the hours he’d spent with his head there after they’d worn each other out, after Steve’s steam had blown off and his own fuzzy, righteous anger at the universe had been temporarily pummeled away. For all the rough of their fucks, what followed was sweeter, more goddamn gentle, than Tony’d ever been with another man. Girls, they liked that sort of thing sometimes, to be coddled and cooed at before you booted them out, but the men in Tony’s life had always been of the fuck-and-run variety, and he’d been just peachy with that.

But Steve was a cuddler, a warm, overheated blanket once his balls were empty that wanted nothing more than for Tony to be tucked up in the lea of his arm, their mouths close. Sometimes, that kind of shit led to more sex, but a lot of times, it didn’t; there was just skin against skin and breath over breath and the soft slide of Tony’s fingers up and down the pretty valleys of Steve’s chest.

None of that was left; it’d all been blown to shit.

“Two bullets,” Barnes told him when they stepped away, leaving Captain Carter and the Commandos behind. “Point blank. Stevie never had a chance.”

“How the fuck did this happen?”

Bucky just blinked at him. “It’s war, Stark. Shit like this happens all the time. He turned his back, he got jumped, and now--”

“Now,” Tony said softly. “He’s dying.”

In the end, he figured it wasn’t the serum that was killing Steve, it was the only thing keeping him from dying, and wasn’t that the cruelest irony of them all, huh? The thing that’d made Steve a weapon in the first place had made him its last victim. It’d have been better if he was just a man, a mortal, whose heart wasn’t fueled to fight, whose body would have reached for peace and just let him die.

“It was a longshot, bringing you out here, Tone.” Steve’s fingers had been stiff and frozen in his. “I’m sorry you risked your life for nothing.”

“Pffft, nothing,” Tony said. He didn’t try to hide that he was crying. They all were. “Got to see your mug again, didn’t I?”

Steve had smiled at him, dry lips stretched. “You’ll miss me when I’m gone, won’t you?”

Tony kissed his forehead. “I have already, asshole. This whole fucking time.”

They’d buried him behind the barn where they’d been hiding. Barnes wouldn’t let them leave a cross, so Dugan and Happy built a bairn.

And then there was nothing left of Steve Rogers, of the Super Soldier Project, and the war was getting closer. Tony could hear the German firing line.

“Well, gentlemen,” Captain Carter had said. “That’s it then, eh? Good luck to you.”

“Yeah,” Falsworth said, repositioning his cap. “Godspeed and all that.”

“Hey,” Barnes had said at Tony’s elbow, his eyes dark and his mouth set. “You’re with me.”

Tony startled. “Why?”

A shrug. “Because. Steve would’ve wanted it that way.”

*****

Two weeks of running later and they're in fascist Italy, of all fucking places. It wasn’t much, but it was damn sure a step up from a country crawling with Nazis. Here, there was only an infestation and these were fat and happy, living it up on Il Duce’s hospitality.

“This is better,” Bucky had muttered as they crept through the night streets. “Believe me.”

“Does that mean you’ll let me sleep? for more than two hours at a stretch?"

Bucky’d chuckled and swept an arm around Tony’s waist, a counterweight to keep him upright. “We find an inn that’ll let us in, Joseph, and sure. Knock yourself out.”

But he isn’t sleeping, is he. He’s lying on a bed for the first time in what feels like a lifetime and he’s not asleep. No, he’s listening to the water run down the hall, the pipes creaking and banging, and imagining what Sergeant Barnes looks like with his clothes all stripped off.

He’s grieving and he’s exhausted and somehow, beyond all that, he can feel himself getting stiff.

He’s feeling too much, that’s all. The world is turning upside down and a man he might have loved, whose life he might have ruined, died right in front of him and there are flames flickering at the foundation of the person he was before and the promise of ashes doesn’t frighten him as much as it should. His body and his brain are just overwhelmed and they’re taking it out on his dick. If he just lies here still for a minute, just lies here and breathes, he won’t think about the fact that Steve’s eyes wouldn’t close or that he was still bleeding even after he stop bleeding or that no one beyond the circle who dug it will ever know the location of his grave. He won’t think about the fact that there’s only one bed in this hotbox, one bed and two bodies and how lovely Sergeant Barnes is, the way his voice sometimes hits the same notes as Steve’s. He won’t think about spreading his fingers over clean skin or about Bucky’s back bowing. He won’t think about how much he needs to be kissed. He won’t--

“Stark.” Bucky’s in the doorway down to his shorts. “Taps are free. You should use them.”

“Yeah?” Tony sits up. Too fast, it turns out. “Do I smell that bad?”

That almost-smile again. “Hell yes.”

He leaves his boots by the bed and strips fast in the bathroom. Bucky’s rinsed out his shirt and pants and hung them crooked on the towel bar. When Tony’s done, shivering in the draining tub, he drapes his over the side. There aren’t any towels. It doesn’t matter. They’re the only ones on the whole top floor.

Which means, he figure as he pads soggy down the hall, that if he can jimmy the lock, there’s no reason for them to share a room. No reason except, when he steps over the door jam, Bucky’s thrown back the sheets and opened the windows and is framed in one by the stars and flickering streetlights.

“Tony,” he says. “You should see this. C’mere.”

Outside, the streets are quiet. A few cars, a couple of horses, but if he looks out beyond, towards the horizon, Rome herself is dressed for high times. Victory. Il Duce can probably smell it. God knows Hitler can. Captain America’s disappeared from the scene and the jackboots are marching, marching, and soon, Britain will be in the Axis’s grip. As for the US, South America, the rest: it’s only a matter of time.

Bucky’s shoulder brushes his. “You think we can still pull this out?”

“No.” Tony tips his body until their skin touches again. “Fuck, no, kid. It’s all over now but the shouting.”

“That’s what I figured. I could see it Captain Carter’s face, you know? She never would have split us up otherwise.”

“You didn’t have to drag me along, you know. I’d, uh--I'd understand if you wanted to go your own way now that we’re out of France.”

Bucky turns his head. “Why would I do that?”

“Come on, Barnes. I have to be slowing you down.”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

“What?”

A hand on his face, worn and gentle. “Steve’s gone. I got no place in the world left to go.”

It’s only when Bucky’s lips meet his that Tony understands, like a kick to the gut: You, he thinks as Bucky’s thumb traces his jaw. You loved him, too.

In bed, Bucky’s slow, the kind of slow that makes Tony want to break apart, the kind that turns his body to sugar melted under the heat of Bucky’s mouth and his hands.

“Wish I could be inside you,” he mumbles as he straddles Tony’s hips and leans down to nuzzle his neck. “Wish I had some slick to get you stretched so I could feel you all around me, huh? I bet you get so tight when you come.”

Bucky's hair isn’t as long as Steve’s was back then. He's a lot skinnier--the war diet; his cock’s fatter and he moans so much sofer when he comes. But in the dark, in the growing chill of the coming dawn, it’s close enough that Tony’s heart blurs and then he opens his eyes and sees Bucky's grin, watches Bucky's eyes flutter when Tony's back arches and he gives it up and up and up and then Bucky's saying his name and kissing his face and it isn't ok that Steve's dead, fuck no, it isn't, but right then, as he kisses Bucky back, for the first time in a long time, it feels ok that he's alive.

“We’ll need to leave in the morning,” Bucky says. He’s strumming the lines of Tony’s ribs. “Not at first light or anything, but one night here is enough.”

Tony kisses the dip in Bucky’s chest. “Where we going? Got some place in mind?”

Dry lips on his cheek, the promise of something--what? “Nah. Some place different, hmm? That’s enough.”

[leychee]

Cradlesona Character Sheet

art by precious bb @vitaminxi

*my cradlesona takes place in a Modern Day Cradle

here are links that have more stuff because i don’t want to make this post too long (it probably already is):

toyhouse

google docs (more in-depth + pictures)

Basic Info

Name: Adriana Lee

Nickname: Adri

Birthday: September 5th

Age: 24

Height: 163cm

Affiliation: Black Territory

Occupation: Fashion/Interior Designer + Freelance Event Planner

Paired With: Fefferoni Thotspeed Fenrir Godspeed

Pets: (6 dogs cuz why not)

Moonie (Australian Shepherd)

Button (Pomeranian)

Pudding (Pomeranian)

Tofu (Toy Poodle)

Iris (Australian Shepher)

Chowder (Samoyed)

Adriana’s Story

Back in school, she was given the nickname Ice Princess, but not because she’s a cold, stoic person

There was an incident that made her really upset, but instead of getting angry she kept a straight face. When she entered the classroom, her classmates noted that they felt a sudden temperature drop because of her presence.

Is pretty much quiet at first, but once you get to know her, she opens up. Being with people she’s close with makes her more outgoing. She can get kinda rowdy when she’s hanging out with her hyper friends

Not afraid to stand up for herself and her friends. She’s always willing to help the people she cares about, although she’s awkward when they reciprocate

In school, she had gotten into a few fights with bullies trying to protect her friends and won every single one of them

Very protective of her younger siblings and is a doting older sister

Adriana comes from a well-known family that owns a design company split into two departments; fashion and interior

Her family often collaborates and deals with the Godspeed family

She works as a fashion/interior designer because it’s what she was taught and also grew to love, but doesn’t agree to take over the family business and wants to make a name for herself

Right after finishing school, her parents tell her of a marriage they had arranged for her even after she voiced her strong opposition of arranged marriages multiple times in the past

She runs away to her best friend’s, Stephanie, house and stays for about a year before reconciling with her parents (she ran out of the room before her parents could tell her the guy’s name)

Aside from differing opinions on arranged marriages, she loves her parents very much and has a close relationship with them both

She later discovers, after her and Fenrir become a couple, that he was the one her parents set her up with, which also surprises him

“How come you’re surprised? Did neither of our parents tell you my name back then?”

“I was against the arranged marriage, too. I completely zoned out after my dad said those two words.”

“Oh my god, Fenrir.”

“What? You ran out!”

“You zoned out!”

After her and her parents’ reconciliation, she begins to spend more time with them and being at the company, then begins to realize how much she enjoys her the environment and reconsiders taking over the company when her parents choose to retire

To be extremely honest, she fell head over heels for Shu Shu before Fenrir lmao

The little pupper was so excited when Fenrir took him to the dog park to meet up with Adriana and her six dogs for a play date

He totally didn’t fall in love with her after seeing her run around and roll in the grass with seven dogs…....totally

She totally didn’t fall in love with him when he tripped and fell into the lake followed by 7 doggos diving in after him happily

Past Life

Wasn’t originally going to join the army after being recruited, but changed her mind when she witnessed a traumatizing event. (not going into specifics) This made her want to do whatever she was able to do, in order to help others and prevent more tragedies

Has a packed schedule most of the time and gets scolded by the other officers a lot for not getting enough rest

Either Sirius or Luka makes sure there’s tea and snacks ready in the kitchen when she stops by though

Was the 8 of Spades (has someone used this already?)

She’s very agile and has a lot of stamina. Black Army soldiers believe she beat 100 Red Army soldiers alone

They find her fun to be around, but are scared of getting on her bad side, afraid she may crush them dead lmao

Many of them admire and look up to her like they do with the other leaders

Member of The Raven’s Shadows - receives secret assignments related to collecting intel on Amon and his plans. Sirius is the only one who knows of each member’s true identities

Extra

Instead of throwing out her unwanted clothes, she donates them

When she finds out that some of the higher ups in her family’s company had been telling the employees to throw out whatever products they didn’t sell, she changes it and now they’re either recycled or donated

Kind of wants to get into real estate to buy out apartment buildings and lower rent prices to make living more affordable for others

Typically for students and low-income families; also people who are going back to school after working for so long

Has workshops to help teach people how to be financially responsible

If she can start a program/collaborate with a few universities, she plans to start offering students internships at her family’s company

[tenjouu]

revolvere (3/?)

facetious plot summary: Lancelot loses his magic upon traveling back in time to the day of Alice the Second’s arrival. How will he save the world equipped with only his winning looks and charisma? Read on to find out!

Featured in this chapter: an unusual matchup—Lancelot vs Fenrir! 

1  |  2  |  3 : fenrir goodpace

Harr confronts him, but more importantly—before that, Alice comes as the giver of good news.

“King Lancelot!” she exclaims. She saw him before he even saw her, and comes hurrying down the hallway. She’s doing a fantastic job of making this look like a one-sided Beauty and the Beast spinoff, but Lancelot can’t fault her for it; he’s quite content to see her too.

“Don’t run in the hallways,” Lancelot chastises. “It’s dangerous.”

“Yes, my king,” she obliges (sounding put-out) as she skids to a halt, and then she perks up. “Oh, King Lancelot, you shouldn’t have.”

Alice reaches out to take the tray of madeleines and eclairs from him, but Lancelot raises them out of reach. She lowers her arms, looking confused.

“I can do this much. Why not open the door instead?” he says. People always treat kings like they can’t do anything for themselves. And besides, if he lets her take the tray now, he won’t be able to eat a single one.

Alice holds open the door, and Lancelot enters first with a hum of gratitude. When she closes the door behind her, he doesn’t even have time to turn around before she takes off.

“Sirius is so happy,” she gushes. “And I think Ray’s glad that the two armies won’t actually be going to war. They’re the only two who know right now, but when will it be okay to bring more people into the fold?”

“Hello to you too, Alice,” Lancelot says wryly, taking a seat at his desk, folding his hands under his chin. He gives her a pointed look. “I’m doing fine. I missed you as well.”

Her cheeks flush red. “I get it, I get it,” she says, sidling over. “Sorry, King Lancelot. Are you well?”

He smiles. “Good,” he says, and if she dared to, she probably would’ve rolled her eyes. “Now, your message from Sirius and Blackwell?”

“Sirius said that he told Harr Silver what was going on,” she reports. “And Ray says that he wants to meet at the Civic Center as a show of confidence, and to touch base with you. And he says that it’s not a good idea to keep secrets from one’s officers, and that he’s going to tell them eventually.”

“I plan to do the same. Things are coming along nicely,” he muses. “Amon will try to contact me likely tomorrow or the day after about pacing his plans. I’ll let everyone know how to proceed after then.”

Alice hums around a mouthful of pastry when Lancelot finally sweeps his gaze back over to her. She pauses in chewing when they make direct eye contact.

“Would you like some tea with that?” he asks.

She swallows guiltily, mistaking his sincerity for reproach. “Sorry—the desserts here are really good... Please continue, King Lancelot.”

“No, I was being serious,” he says. “I’m not angry—I realized that I forgot the tea.” He pauses. “And I thought of this just now, but did you not come with a guard today?”

“Oh, Fenrir came with me again today,” she explains, “but I think he’s with Zero right now.”

He knows that Zero is meticulous and disciplined. Lancelot has complete faith in him. But that’s such a stark contrast from the first time Alice came over, where he stayed sentinel by Lancelot’s office’s door until it was time for her to leave. He points this out curiously.

Alice shifts a little under his scrutiny. “I may have...given them the...impression that you’ve been nothing but a respectful gentleman to me. Fenrir has his doubts, but he respects that I trust you.”

“Alice,” Lancelot sighs.

“It’s true!” she protests. “You’re very nice to me, King Lancelot.”

Who in their right mind would be mean? Lancelot doesn’t say. He places his hand in his chin and contemplates her. “You’re very chipper and enthusiastic about this whole thing. Though I appreciate and trust your easy cooperation, I’m curious why.”

Alice leans close and whispers conspiratorially, “I know lives are at stake, but it’s kind of exciting. And I’m just glad to help. I want to do anything I can.”

Lancelot doesn’t want to be Alice’s reason for developing a danger-loving streak. Edgar from his world would have come close to treason if he found out Lancelot had. So Lancelot simply accepts her reason for what it is and hopes to dear god that Harr will keep her away from all of the fighting, when Harr finally decides to come out of hiding.

A knock sounds at the door.

“Come in,” Lancelot calls. Just as well, he’ll ask the person to send for tea.

It’s Edgar, speak of the devil. Lancelot thinks that the universe never aligns stars in his favor. Edgar smiles as he enters.

“My king, just to confirm,” Edgar says. “Did your majesty invite the Black Ace to spar with our own?”

They’re what? How did Zero end up indulging Godspeed?

“No,” Lancelot says. He cannot be arsed to deal with it. He’s spending time with Alice right now, damn it! The Black Army gets to have her damn near 24/7; he’ll be damned if goddamn Fenrir Godspeed cuts his meager allotment in half.

Then he pauses, looking between Alice and Edgar. Alice stares back inquisitively. Edgar’s smile is impenetrable. Well, the best plans are flexible, after all. He trusts Alice to hold her own against Edgar.

“Edgar, accompany our guest on a tour around headquarters,” Lancelot declares. “I will go handle this myself.”

“My lord?” Edgar asks, still smiling. This is his version of bafflement.

“She’s easily bribed with sweets,” Lancelot supplies helpfully as he passes Edgar on his way to the door, and whooshes out the room with his cape.

/

It seems that Godspeed wasn’t actually the only one who instigated this, because Zero is tending to an unconscious man as the Ace of Spades holds his own against other soldiers.

The brawling style of Sirius never fails to impress. It’s clear he’s taught his men well. But Godspeed fights with a technique that is unmistakably his own. Wild, swift punches that shatter an enemy’s guard rather than get around, nimble sidesteps that keep him on the enemy’s non-dominant side. Lancelot gets the feeling that the man’s ambidextrous, because he watches him face off two of his soldiers and come out victorious.

“Why are you fighting my men?” Lancelot intones, finally stepping forward.

Godspeed turns to him, fists up and ready.

“Jealous?” Godspeed prompts cockily. “I’ll fight you too, Red King.”

“Interesting,” Lancelot replies. “But I must decline. I’m here to cut this short. I’m to be spending time with Alice right now, after all.”

“Then why aren’t you with her?” the man retorts. He relaxes his lean, muscled form. “If you’re afraid to bite...”

“Did you defeat Zero?” Lancelot asks.

Godspeed shrugs. “Your men have bad defense because your army relies on crystals,” he shoots back. “At least your Ace put up a good fight, but I’ve been fighting with these hands before I even picked up a sword.”

“You fight with guns. You don’t even use a sword.”

“Before I even picked up a gun,” Godspeed amends. “Anyway, it came close to a tie. You’ve got good men.” He shrugs. “But it seems like the Black Army just might be stronger in an honest fight, fist-to-fist.” He opens an eye and arches a brow at Lancelot. “Since we don’t rely on magic.”

Lancelot may be at the point in his life where he’d let a few things go because he’s got a limited supply of fucks to give, but he still has his pride as a king and warrior. Godspeed is an amateur at trash talk; instead, he brings genuinely good criticism, but one thing he’s got wrong is the magic. Lancelot doesn’t mind teaching him a lesson. If he loses to this upstart, he’ll abdicate the throne and retire straight to the graveyard, effectively immediately.

“You seem strong,” Lancelot says, shedding his cape, and then coat.

Godspeed’s amber eyes light up impossibly bright, almost feral as he grins. “No magic, Red King. No unfair advantages.”

“No magic,” Lancelot agrees.

Fenrir Godspeed puts up his fists and charges in.

Lancelot, even though he’s taller and less fluid in his movements, makes up for agility with unyielding defense. Godspeed keeps his battle calm, refusing to let frustration get the best of him. Some hits land where they would hurt, but Lancelot has fought Sirius a few times, and these blows are like taps in comparison.

“You’re not bad,” Godspeed grunts. “Rusty, but solid.”

Lancelot doesn’t answer. The man is the type to talk during a fight, it seems. He breaks past Lancelot’s guard with a well-aimed jab and lands a blow across his jaw—before Lancelot can even blink, he pivots back, like an acrobat. He raises his leg and sends Lancelot back with a sharp kick to the chest. Lancelot emits a sound of pain.

“Seems like I’ve got you beat in agility, old man,” Godspeed crows on his follow-through with another uppercut, thinking he’s sure to win with this last move.

“You might,” Lancelot agrees, letting gravity pull him down. He folds into himself, ducking from the swing, catching himself on his hands.

He lifts his lower half and uses his legs to sweep Godspeed’s feet from under him. A loud squawk follows as his back hits the grass. Lancelot keeps his legs constricted around his own. Godspeed’s tiny frame can’t win against Lancelot’s brute strength.

“But I’m not stiff,” Lancelot says, twisting his body up, and presses his arm against Godspeed’s neck. “Your loss.”

Godspeed’s furious glare tempers itself to a good-natured resentment. The fight fades from his eyes, and he sighs, letting his head fall against the ground. His eyes close, and the wind ruffles their hair as their breathing comes under control.

The battle was over in five minutes, but Godspeed had been fighting before Lancelot joined the fray, after all. He doubts that a fresh Ace of Spades would lose so quickly.

And he’s still young, after all. He’ll take this loss gamely and get over it. He’s a century too early trying to pick a fight with a king.

Speaking of age—

When Lancelot unentangles their limbs and pulls Godspeed up, he arches an authoritative brow.

“Old man?” he repeats.

To his surprise, Godspeed looks abashed. “Oh...did I say that? Sorry,” he says awkwardly, face scrunched up. “It slipped out. Whenever Sir—the queen—agrees to spar...uh, he’s—um—easy to rile up...” He grimaces. “I realize that was out of line, King of Hearts.”

Lancelot snorts. Godspeed gives him an incredulous double take.

“I’m younger than Sirius is, so I’m quite secure in my vigor,” Lancelot replies. “This ‘old man’ just beat you, after all.”

Godspeed makes a sour face but ducks his head, accepting his loss.

“Infirmary, I think. For my men, and for me,” says Lancelot. “I don’t particularly care for bruising on my face.”

Something must have changed between before the fight and after, because Godspeed grumbles, “Sorry,” under his breath as Lancelot turns to Zero.

“Don’t be,” Lancelot says simply. “Don’t do things that you don’t mean.”

[fandom-collective-writers]

Medical Meltdown

Fandom: Ikemen Revolution

Pairing: Kyle x Fenrir x Mousse

Prompt: I won’t lose you too.

Warning: Angst, Character Death, Blood

Requested by: Anonymous on @ikemen-discord-writers

Author: @kiarigirl-blog

Word Count: 1,198

Summary: When Cradle’s two armies join forces to take out Amon and his Magic Tower disciples, Kyle is left to take care of the injured.  But he is only one man and he learns that death is inescapable.

A/N: I put a little happy ending to this.  Sorry to the fans of the character who died.

The clanging of steel continues into the dark endless night.  Amon’s push for complete control over Cradle had seen to it that every able bodied man and woman took up arms in defense of their homeland.  You were elbow deep in blood and severed limbs when your king came into the makeshift clinic looking battle weary.  Blood smeared across his pale cheek leaving him with a haunted gaze.

You look rough, King Lancelot.

“How is everything going?”  Your voice trickled out tiredly in spite of how it was intended.  You stood peeling the once white gloves, now a dark crimson color, from your hands.  It was the first break you had since the fighting started.

Lancelot’s golden locks of hair shook in the calm wind like a silken field of wheat.  His fingers ran over the stained jacket he wore, hiding a spreading flow of blood.  A faint gurgle fills his throat as he tries to reply.  “Not so good.”  He sat on the nearest cot and slowly opened his coat revealing the laceration just inches from his heart.  

“Oh god, let me get you fixed up-”  Your words halted as Lancelot wavered and passed out.  Your quick reflexes served you well as you caught him before he fell to the floor.  You eased him onto his back, feeling the chill from the night made his temperature drop significantly.  Cutting away his shirt you drenched his chest in a cleansing rinse.  The wound continued to spill blood but your fingers expertly stitched up the five inch long cut.  You carefully bandaged his chest taping off the gauzed area before taking a seat.  

You will need plenty of rest.

“Mousse, can you go and let Jonah know I need to speak to him?”  

The sleepy former Ace of Hearts grumbled, his fists scrubbing sleep from his eyes, awakening himself to your voice.  “If it'll help save Alice I'll be happy to.”

She's the reason we're here fighting my friend.  I'm not going to stop fighting until she's back in my arms.

A loud agonizing groan rings out as you waited for your Queen to arrive.  It was the sort of pained noise that was felt deep inside.  “Someone help, Mousse has been injured,” cried a soldier.  

You looked out of the faux hospital to the gruesome scene.  Mouse's face was charged like burnt steak, a victim of Amon or his cronies, blood spilled from the back of his head like a broken vase.  “Bring him in, quickly!”.

The soldier laid his stuff body onto the table, praying over him as you dinner a clean pair of gloves.  Your fingers pressed to his neck but there was a lack of pulse.  Suddenly you started chest compressions trying to retrieve a heartbeat.  “One… Two… Three… “  Not one to give up, you continued trying, bruising his lifeless chest with harder and harder pressure.

“Kyle, you have to stop!  He's gone.”  Jonah grabbed your shoulders and forced you away from the patient.  His eyes turned solemn for a moment before noticing Lancelot.  “That's why you summoned me?  Is he alright? “  Genuine emotion now filled his soft voice.  

“He's resting.  I should know more later.” The death of the sweet and largely innocent Mousse weighed heavy on your soul to the point that you bit your lip.  Jonah shook your shoulders jarring you back into reality, his eyes expectantly stared at you.  “Oh, yeah.  Guess you are in command until his injury heals.”  You explained the King's injuries to Jonah hoping that he wouldn’t freak out.  Your own anxiety pulsed inside your brain.  

Rays of warm golden sun broke through the thin flap of the medical tent to rouse you from slumber.  Your hands brushed against long dark lashes, sweeping the pain from looking Mousse.  A yawn slipped out as you drug yourself off a cot.  

A soft groan steals your attention over to your king.  His hand brushed along his chest for the first time since he passed out.  “Kyle?”  He turned his golden haired head, blue grey eyes shifted, taking in his surroundings.  

“King Lancelot.  You're awake.”  Your face relaxed seeing him wake up.  “I will send for Jonah.“  He shook his head slow at your words.  “I have to at least check and see how the stitches are doing.”

Carefully the tape was peeled off his chest, your fingers probed the wound testing for pain.  Lancelot winced, teeth gritting together stopping himself from screaming or yelling at you.  The stitches held firm, holding the flesh that together.   “It looks good, there shouldn't be any concern for infections.  Just take something for the pain and take it easy.”

Just then a couple soldier who served as nurses brought food for any patients who could eat. You moved, making your way to check on other patients.  An empty cot reminded where Mousse had been brought tears to your eyes.  

A squad of soldiers dressed in black stormed into the clinic carrying someone you recognized.  The fuchsia hair belonged to Fenrir Godspeed, the Ace of Spades.  “Help, he is bleeding to death.”  Their frantic voices rang out like a choir.  

You pointed to the open bed while dragging on a pair of gloves.  The jacket to his uniform was charged from magical blasts and fun powder.  The scissors slid through the fabric with easy as you stripped the unconscious man.  A wound the size of a fist stretched his gut open, to your horror.  You poured cleaning solution over his stomach, dabbing away debris.  Your hands worked in a flurry, closing up on nick and cut at a time.  

A nurse poured more solution as you continued to work.  “I won't lose you too!”  

Sweat beaded over your brow as minutes turned into an hour, his life perilously slipped further away.  By the time you managed to staunch the flow of blood, his pulse had slowed to almost nothing.  “ Please, don't let another person die, “ you murmured to yourself.

You closed your eyes softly hiding the exhaustion from anyone who saw you.  You kept Fenrir's hand in yours even as you fell into a deep sleep.

“It's over!  We've captured Amon!“  The camp erupted in celebration during the faint light of dawn.  Lancelot commanded soldiers to help him out of the bed and into the camp while you checked up on Fenrir.  “Alice?  When did you get here?”

Her face looked up at you then sad eyes looked down at Fenrir.  “When word reached me that Mousse died, Oliver suggested I come see if I could help.”  She brushed her fingers over her friend's cheek.  “You gonna be okay?“

You tried to smile at her, many things you wanted to say but you kept silent for a moment.  “Yeah.  I should be.  As for him, time will tell.”

She nodded her head, eyes finally looked at you.  “Will you be home tonight?”  Her voice was sweet and a little sad.  Worry rested in her eyes and kept her from looking like her normal happy self.

“After I see Fenrir back to the Black Army base.  I promise and we can cuddle if you like.”. You reached out, brushing your thumb over your girlfriend's soft lips.

[isuzukuretsuki]

Ikemen Revolution - Fenrir’s Route

Aaaand here’s one for Fenrir’s route!

My main comments are: FUCK those avatar challenges. It took me five thousand years to finish this damn route because I was stuck grinding for Lin for five thousand years because according to cybird, I can’t get the good ending w ma man unless I look cute smh.

The night that Alice lands in Cradle, she pretty much goes out to the garden to sob her eyes out because of the stress of being killed (oh honey don’t worry this game doesn’t have any bad ends. If you were in a game like Amnesia then I’d start crying LMAO). Fenrir happens to see her and wipes her tears away (*๓´╰╯`๓). He decides to spend the month with Alice to make her have as much fun as possible, and makes her promise that so there will be no regrets, the two will not fall in love.

But we all know that’s not gonna happen.

I guess because the boys finally learned from Lancelot’s route to never send a nameless faceless nobody with Alice, Ray assigns Fenrir as her personal bodyguard. 

Fenrir takes it upon himself to be Alice’s personal tour guide, so they go on a date around the Central Quarter eating all kinds of sweets like a bunch of dorks D’AWW. Of course the red army are full of party poopers who crashes their alone time.

@Red army boys, I LOVE YOU ALL BUT YOUR SOLDIERS NEEDA CHILL. Like my grievances from Lancelot’s route carry over in twofold because the nameless red soldiers are once again, STILL a bunch of blood thirsty hooligans who are clearly letting “may glory flow crimson through our veins” slogan get to their heads WAYY too much. 

(☪̤̆_̆ ☪̤̆) THAT’S SO SPECIFIC LMAO.

But anyhoo I guess having a body guard with actual plot armor was really beneficial because Fenrir drives off all of the Red soldiers! And as it turns out, they were sent by Edgar (but of course why am I not surprised smh).

They return home and a few black army soldiers comes out shitting their pants because apparently there’s a ghost, and when Fenrir hears that HE shits his pants. 

Luka has his priorities straight.

Fenrir pussyfoots outside the army headquarters for a few minutes because GHOST but then big bear Sirius comes out RURL pissed because everyone keeps making a ruckus.

WHY DO I FIND THIS SO FUCKING FUNNY. LIKE IT’S PICTURE PERFECT. I CAN IMAGINE HIM DOING THIS IN MY HEAD FRAME BY FRAME.

So the ghost was actually a magic cult goon creeping around like a lech looking for women's’ underwear, whom Seth covered for. I had zero interest in Seth before but I do find it interesting that more hints about Seth’s connection to the magic cult goons are being dropped, and if anything it makes me want to play his route now.

I’d love to be your friend!!! But unfortunately Fenrir is a giant stick in the mud and won’t let me! But never fear because your route is coming out soon so soon I’ll be more than just your friend LOL!

 Fenrir gets news that some of their soldiers got cornered on the Red Bridge. Well what do you know, turns out the nameless red soldiers are still mad that they busted a nut in anticipation for nothing because they didn’t get to skewer any soldiers in Lancelot’s route, so now they’re taking out their pent up frustration here.

Luka hears the news as well and rushes to the red bridge just in time to see Jonah and the rest of the red soldiers man handling the black army soldiers (wtf Jonah I expected better of you). Luka goes from simmering with rage to boiling with rage and charges at the red soldiers. Obviously the red soldiers don’t care (or... they just can’t comprehend) that Luka is their superior’s freaking brother because all they can think about is reaping the reward for unnecessary stabbing and so they go into Ultimate Shish Kabobing Mode and decide to kill Luka.

Jesus christ... these fucking red soldiers. I am so sorry but I think the only people in this clown of an army that has any shred of honor or self control are the red army love interests LOL.

Anyway Fenrir drags Luka’s delirious bloody corpse back to the black army and the scene ain’t pretty. But it’s okay because we all know that this game doesn’t have the balls to actually kill anyone so it’s not like there’s any need to be worried.

See even Alice acknowledges it lol. This game’s too soft (not that that’s necessarily a bad thing... if I want angst I’ll just read fanfiction ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

Apparently the one who actually made swiss cheese of Luka was Jonah. At first I was just SO CONFUSION?? JONAH WOULD NEVER DO THAT! until this bomb dropped and my only reaction was honestly just “...yikes”.

CRIES @ MY HEART

Jonah sneaks into Black Territory unarmed and Fenrir decides to arrange for him to see Luka like a the great wingbro he is. Alice’s left awkwardly keeping Jonah company but the ice quickly breaks and they end up spending the day talking about Luka ♡(.◜ω◝.)♡.

Fenrir successfully sneaks Jonah into Luka’s room but the two end up just having a screaming match and Luka boots Jonah out of his room. Understandable, considering how all the red soldiers are like little kids that you needa put those backpack straps on because who knows what the fuck they’ll do if left to their own devices.

me whenever I have any kind of guests over.

eat my ass @ Sirius 

When it’s decided that the Black and Red army are gonna go to war for realsies, Alice requests to go onto the battle field with Fenrir so she can repel magic. Sirius freaks out going all like “ojou-chan, you mustn’t! It’s not a walk in the park!!” but Alice ain’t having any of that and essentially tells Sirius to eat her ass. Fenrir being the amazing bro he is sticks up for Alice and asks Ray if he can take her with him, swearing he’ll protect her. Ray’s like sigh fine. This scene was honestly my favourite because I loved how much confidence Fenrir had in Alice and how he respected her desire to help. Unlike a certain someone ੧| ‾́ェ ‾́ |੭ (totally not throwing shade at Sirius LMAO).

CRIES SOME MORE THAT’S SUCH A CUTE NICKNAME.

I could have asked the exact same thing of you Sirius.

The rest of the Black Army can clearly see sparks flying between Fenrir and Alice but unfortunately, Fenrir has to join Sirius in the emotional constipation of “what is this feeling in my chest?! Definitely not love!” Granted Fenrir has an excuse because of the promise he made her, but it’s still frustrating nonetheless.

oh my god can you shut up about this dumbass slogan for one minute. 

Ngl despite the heart warming moment of resolve when Fenrir decides to take Alice into battle, it’s pretty damn hard to take the war seriously because it feels like a bunch of 14 year old teenagers doing a play-war considering of how almost comedic it is. Again, I’m not saying that this game needs to be an angst fest where everyone dies, but for a story about two armies on the brink of war, it does a pretty bad job at building any real tension or showing this war as a source of any real conflict with any real stakes or any real consequences.

I totally *do not* dislike that nickname 👀

We cut back to the red army who are all quite frazzled because they all had that “oh fuck” moment when they realized that they’re getting their asses whooped by the black army.  Lancelot decides to stay his hand, whereas Jonah rages at Edgar’s incompetence but Edgar’s ultimately like “¯\_(ツ)_/¯ King’s orders”.

Alice you’re doing amazing, sweetie.

Alice continues to fight with Fenrir on the front lines but she realizes that she really loves him and she doesn’t want to go home anymore! UNFORTUNATELY FOR HER, our lovely gentleman Fenrir “this feeling in my chest is totally love but I WON’T ADMIT IT!” Godspeed repeatedly dodges her attempts at confessing (¬_¬). GOOD SIR I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING. You’re just trying to put off having a heart to heart about your feelings until the full moon so you can boot Alice back to her world without ever having to talk about it (ლಠ益ಠ)ლ.

Alice tries once again for the nth time to confess her feelings to Fenrir but this time they’re interrupted by the magic cult goons who are hell bent on capturing Alice. This plays out exactly as you’d predict and the two get cornered at a cliff LOL. Alice gets blown off the cliff and Fenrir jumps after her to save her.

This, my friends, is what we call: plot armor.

They miraculously (and conveniently) survive their fall and end up in the castle ruins in the forbidden forest. I guess being lost in an abandoned forest with a totally not haunted castle next to them sets the mood for sexy time because they end up making out like their life depends on it. Conveniently, without actually saying they love each other ლ(ಠ_ಠლ). 

GUYS... THE DRIVER IS LITERALLY RIGHT THERE.... GUYS....

They make it back to Black Territory in one piece with the help of Loki and Harr and Ray loses his shit because he thought they died T T T.  Fenrir is sent back to the front lines and Alice is totally ready to go back and kick some ass but I guess all the fire and confidence in this power couple completely deflated because Fenrir becomes Sirius 2.0 and refuses to take Alice SMH. 

Alice finds Fenrir boarding a carriage to leave, and she stops him and tries to tell him that she loves him. Fenrir responds by pulling Alice into the carriage with him and at this point I was HYPED because “is he actually gonna take her with him?!?!” but my hopes are quickly dashed when he shoves her into the carriage, initiates round 2 of INTENSE MAKE OUT SESSION LIKE YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT..... then throws Alice’s sad ass back out of the carriage and leaves her behind once he’s finished (┛ಠДಠ)┛彡┻━┻.

UGH! FENRIR! JUST--- AGHHHHHHH. 

YOU CAN SAY THAT AGAIN. Like yea sex is great, but have you ever heard of proper verbal communication??

(I also find it funny how the driver was just sitting there the entire time they were making out doing a big boi sweat).

me with group assignments in school.

Fenrir comes back on the night of the full moon and Alice for the 100TH DAMN TIME IN THIS ROUTE, tries to tell him that she doesn’t want to go home, but Fenrir, again, dashes her hopes and tells her she has to go back he won’t be able to protect her all the time. Which we all know is bullshit, but nevertheless Alice decides to listen to him. 

Ha ha ha you are so full of shit.

And so Alice once again goes to the gates of hell garden portal which I officially dub as “The Hole Where Bad Things Happen” or more accurately, “The Hole That No Player Ever Wants To See”. 

Anyhoo Alice leaps back home and spends about a month moping in London until one day a black army soldier comes to London and begs Alice to go back with him because Fenrir’s in danger! Alice, having literally zero self preservation because I guess her time on the battle field taught her jack shit, blindly follows this fellow back to Cradle and the moment she arrives, the guy reveals himself to be a magic cult goon and so she’s kidnapped and taken to Amon’s sex dungeon.

Look. I’m not gonna accuse Alice of “dumb mc syndrome” and I don’t necessarily blame her for falling for it but at the same time, COME ON. THIS IS THE DUMBEST PLOT POINT EVER. Of all the possible reasons she comes back to Cradle, THIS IS THE ONLY THING THEY COULD THINK OF? What makes it so aggravating is that it’s stated multiple times that any person from Reason can repel magic, so if that’s the case, the cult goons could have just kidnapped any random off the street instead of wasting time and energy looking for Alice. And if they could conveniently stroll into the land of Reason, why didn’t they do that ages ago?!

You know that writing rule “make your villains smarter, not your protagonists dumber”, or something like that? Well in this case, everyone is dumb!

Anyway during the month Alice was gone, Lancelot finally decides to stop going radio silent and consults the Black Army about Amon and his weed stash. This felt really convenient and almost inconsistent with Lancelot’s character because in the other routes he was hell bent on not talking unless 100% cornered, but in Fenrir’s route he spills the beans like it’s no big deal. 

Fenrir hears the news of Alice being kidnapped by Amon and the Black army pretty much storms into the Magic Tower and fishes Alice out. Amon finally reveals himself but honestly he doesn’t put up much of a fight because Fenrir shoots him with one of those hiccuping guns and that’s enough to deflate all of Amon’s fighting spirit lmao so he gets arrested in the end. Talk about anti climatic as hell. This entire thing just felt really stupid because if all they had to do with storm the damn tower, they should have done so ages ago.

Admittedly I do like the resolution to this whole fiasco. Fenrir is totally ready to get down and dirty, but before that Fenrir and Alice actually, finally, and at long last, properly talk about their feelings and sort out their relationship mess. 

Dramatic End:

Alice officially joins the Black Army, and they hold her enrollment ceremony. Hosting it is usually Ray’s job since he’s king but since Alice is his best friend’s babe, he decides to let Fenrir take over. Unfortunately, Fenrir can’t keep his excitement in check and ends up picking Alice up and spinning her around in joy ╭(๑ ॔ㅂ ਂ ॓)و ̑̑. THIS WAS SO CUTE I LOVE THIS ENDING.

-----

Honestly I have a lot of mixed feelings about this route. There’s the good, the bad, and the ugly, but since I don’t wanna end this post on a salty note so I’ll just start with the ugly and work my way up.

The Ugly: The route starts losing momentum their promise of not falling in love morphs into the source for Fenrir’s self cockblock fest for the rest of the route and him repeatedly rebuffing Alice’s attempts to tell him she wants to stay in Cradle became unbearable frustrating. Playing Sakuya’s route in Norn9 alongside Fenrir’s route did not help at all because his route also had a “promise of not falling in love” premise and had the exact same problems as Fenrir’s route so honestly my frustration was just doubled at this point.

The Bad: The plot is balls off the rail in the second half if it isn’t obvious enough from my complaints earlier. The Hole That No Player Ever Wants to See making a reappearance in Fenrir’s route kills a lot of the build up between Alice and Fenrir and there was honestly no point of having Alice go back to London. The circumstances that lead her to returning were so stupid it had me head banging against the wall.

The Good: I think Fenrir and Alice have a very strong “friends to lovers” romance going on and it was honestly really sweet and wholesome. I loved how their friendship and subsequent romance builds them both up and makes them better people-- they’re both stronger together, they’re equals, they’re partners. You really get a sense of camaraderie between the two and their relationship is founded on mutual respect, understanding, trust, and confidence in each other which I’m 100% on board with. Fenrir taking Alice onto the battle field with him is a testament of the rock solid trust between them. They have a very strong partner in crime vibe that I love! 

I adore how Fenrir refers to Alice as his “best friend” or his “best buddy” and it was just so cute, it made my heart swell because I’m a firm believer that your s/o SHOULD be your best friend.

Overall imo, Fenrir’s route is about on par with Lancelot’s, though it has higher highs and lower lows than Lancelot’s route did.

Anyway, I’m making my way through Edgar’s route currently (♥ω♥*).

[thunder-the-ranger-wolf]

One: On the way

Story: The Captain America Experience

Series: Brothers in Arms

Summary: "You run away and they'll keep after you. It never ends well, that way. Fight back, stand your ground, you have at least half a chance. That's all I'll ever need."

"We are Pack, Socren. Why don't you understand?" A small, blonde boy boy with bright blue eyes trotted to keep up with a dark-haired boy with hazel eyes. The dark-haired boy, Joclar, was trying to impress upon his younger brother the importance of the life they lived.

"Of course we are Pack. We are littermates, Brother. That is one of the closest parts of Pack there is. What do I not understand?"

"Not just us. Everyone."

The blonde boy stopped short, eyes narrowed.

"Even Atros?"

"Especially Atros."

"But he hates me!"

"Father hates you. All he can do is follow along."

"Right." The scrawny blonde sneered. "He wants me dead, Joclar. I see it even if you don't. I bet he'd be so ecstatic he'd dance on my grave. He wouldn't even bother to fake a proper howl he'd be so happy."

"If you keep that attitude, no one will howl for you. Least of all Atros." The younger of the two hissed in shock and froze, despite his brother's intentions. The Alpha's wife, Watren, had no love for any child not her own, and Socren was a Runt to boot. The assembly horn broke through his thoughts.

"The Feast begins soon. You two will sit next to Atros when the time comes." The woman ordered. Joclar nodded, but Socren spluttered.

"But... I can't-." The Alpha Female's expression darkened, and she brought Socren to her level with a tug under his arms.

"Do you challenge me, boy?!" She hissed, obviously struggling. He could hear the slight pant in her voice, and it brought him great joy. He dared not to show it, though, keeping his face solemn.

"Of course not, Lady Watren. I shall do as you say."

"You better." She growled, dropping him with a huff and stalking toward the ceremonial table. They followed shortly after, Joclar hissing insults in his ear.

"You do not go against the Alpha's Female, no matter what you believe to be right! Zalcre will surely have your head!"

"Let him." Socren sneered. "It's not like he hasn't wanted me gone from the start."

Joclar couldn't respond as they took their seats, but shot him one last glare as they sat on either side of their older brother. Atros was still, watching the proceedings with the eyes of a statue and only moving to greet his younger brothers.

"That was not wise." He murmured, when Socren brushed against him to sit down.

"I care not what you think." The sickly boy scoffed, a hint of a wheeze in his voice.

"I-."

"Should pay attention." Socren offered, motioning to their father's waiting gaze. Atros nodded and got to his feet.

"Whatever happens, we'll always be brothers."

That was no comfort to the younger blonde.

"People of the Pack, of the Community, as you know, I cannot remain Alpha forever. My firstborn had returned from the trials all future leaders must face, those of strength and intelligence, and I am proud to say that he has passed with flying colors. As such, it is Atros who will take my place as head of the Pack and leader of the Community."

Zalcre stepped aside and the young man in his wake faced the cheers of the people.

"All hail Atros, long may he reign! All hail Atros, long may he reign!"

"Steve?!" He jerked awake at the sound of his name and nodded to the woman who sat a seat away. The car was halfway to the testing site, he realized with a jolt, and Peggy was staring at him.

"Fine." He snorted, recalling her words. The most beautiful woman on the planet and she, like everyone else, was more concerned that he wouldn't make it to the procedure, much less through it. He began to recount his many adventures with a dark humor, scorn flashing through his gaze. No one ever challenged his brothers. He saw no pity in her eyes, though. He didn't know what the look was.

"You don't give up easily, do you?" She muttered.

"You run away and they'll keep after you. It never ends well, that way. Fight back, stand your ground, you have at least half a chance. That's all I'll ever need."

The young man had won many a fight that way, but for every victory, defeat was imminent.

Captain America Experience*Captain America Experience*Captain America Experience*

The large, dark-haired male found his brother talking to Erskine as things were being set up for the proceedings.

"Anthony!" The German doctor had long been a favorite of his, right up there with his mentor, Howard Stark. Speaking of, the three of them would be monitoring the process as it went along. If he were to hand his brother over to the care of another, he would have some role in how that went. "This is Steve Rogers."

He was just as scrawny and determined as the last they'd seen each other two years prior.

"Well met, soldier." He purred warmly, clapping a hand on his brother's shoulder. Socren scowled and failed to step around it, barrelling into his brother with all the force of a freight train the size of a newborn kitten.

"So this is where you've been all this time." His youngest brother mused. "Get to play with all the shiny toys, did you?" Steve snickered as he circled his older companion.

"Yes." Tony grumbled. "You're too heavy for piggyback rides, so don't bother."

"I'm never not going to ask for one, so get over it."

"You gonna be this big a baby when they put you on the front lines?"

"Of course not." Steve smirked. "I gotta be smart about it. Blonde or not, I got more than fluff between the ears."

"You wouldn't have made it this far if you didn't." Tony conceded softly. Steve dodged his upcoming noogie and stepped back to stare at his brother.

"You don't approve." He muttered, voice flat.

I'm not of any influence and we're not related. “I can't tell you anything that will change your mind."

"But you don't like it."

"If anyone can get through this procedure, it's you. Just get through it."

"Think of it this way. Now I can actually put up a fight."

"That's what I'm afraid of." He groused. "Far be it from me to stop you doing what you want."

"Exactly." Steve snorted. "It'll be fine." He assured his brother. "You and Stark have checked the math and Erskine is brilliant enough that it's worked before. I can do this." He insisted.

"Yeah, sure thing."

Erskine gestured to the machine and Tony nodded.

"Here goes. Godspeed." The engineer offered.

May the Norns be with you. Tony muttered.

Whatever happens, we'll always be brothers. Steve vowed.

Always. Tony swore.