#miles coming face to face with a self that took up a mantle he can’t imagine

[fellhellion]

Love being invested in a relationship who’s trajectory we know literally nothing about yet (Miles 1 & Miles 2)

[libsterslobsters]

I'm Gonna Crawl: Post 2

Post 1

Summary: Five years. That's how long the reader and Bucky have been apart (although for him, it was only five minutes) Now with Thanos defeated and both of them taking up the mantle of Avengers, can their relationship return to what it was? Or will they have to discover a new normal?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem! enhanced! super-soldier! Reader (Reader can see pieces of the future in visions as well as speak every language)

Warnings: Angst, fluff, language, smut (IF YOU ARE UNDER EIGHTEEN, DON'T READ!!!)

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One of the perks of being “enhanced” or in this case, a super soldier, is that you heal quickly. Within seventy-two hours, the bullet wound in his leg (not to mention the cut and black eye he sustained from several sharp blows to the face) and her matching one in the shoulder are almost completely healed, only a vague pink mark to show they were ever injured. The downside is-

“Do you want to punch sandbags until they fly off the hook, or run thirty miles around the compound first? I’ll start with whichever you don’t pick.” -they’re back to training as well.

He almost answers that he really doesn’t want to do either, it’s Sunday morning, for fuck’s sake, but it’s not like this is her first choice for what she could be doing this morning either, so he goes with-

“Punching things first. Think I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, so I’d best get it out of my system.” She nods and, squeezing his arm, takes off at a jog.

“See you on the other side.”

His instinct is to tell her to take it easy, she lost a lot of blood the other day and who knows if there’s been some bone or muscular damage that hasn’t quite fixed itself yet, but again, he swallows it down and focuses on the task at hand. Namely, taking out his bad mood on a punching bag.

Usually, when his body is in motion, his mind is at least somewhat at rest, but this time around, the exertion is just adding fuel to the flames. He’s too pissed off to just zone out and concentrate on hitting the target, still too busy trying to process what the hell happened three nights ago.

It was their first mission together. She’s been on a few separate from him, and he and Sam get called out together on the regular. Stupidly, he assumed that, since her specialty is translating or gathering intel, maybe being the little voice in someone’s ear to direct them through a maze of assailants and twisting corridors her visions had allowed her a glimpse of ahead of time, she’d be out of the line of fire. At the very least, most of the attention would be on him and Sam. But no, she was the bogey. She drew fire while he waltzed through a military fortress, recapturing stolen tech. When Rhodey so much as mentioned that possibility, he should’ve told him no, hard no. If anyone’s drawing fire, it’s him. Still, in his arrogance, he assumed it wouldn’t come to that extreme. Sam’s good at his job, and as much as he hates the reason behind it, so is he. They should’ve been able to hold the line without her painting a target on her back.

That, of course leads to yet another issue. He’s also pissed at himself for instinctively seeing her as more fragile, something that needs to be protected. Even before the same chemicals running through his veins infected her, she’d proven that she’s a damn capable person. He knows that she’s smart, both strategically and academically. Add onto that the fact that she’s fast and strong, not to mention she has visions (less than helpful ones most of the time, but they have their moments), and she’s a powerful ally. He certainly wouldn’t want to be on her bad side. And yet, when he saw that she’d been hit, his mind completely emptied. He wouldn’t have been able to remember which end of a gun to use if his life depended on it, because all he could think was, “Oh god. She’s hurt.” It’s old-fashioned, outdated. He should be past this mindset, at least when it comes to work. Out there, she’s his fellow soldier, not the woman he lies awake next to in bed, sometimes for hours, just to listen to her breath and know he’s not alone. Did Steve ever put Peggy in that box, he wonders? No, of course not, because Steve’s a better man than he ever was or will ever be. So yeah, he’s pissed off at himself.

And finally, although he can barely admit it to his own mind, he’s pissed off at her. Logically he knows it’s mostly fear, some primal instinct to protect what’s his, but every time he imagines her being shot, having a bullet pass by her lungs and arteries by a very narrow margin, and then telling Sam not to let him know that she was hit, it irks him. Did she think he’d come unhinged? Screw up? Or is she stuck in the mindset she seems to have adopted as a response to the last five years of “Screw looking after myself. It doesn’t matter.” A small part of him realizes that he didn’t call in either when he took a bullet, but that’s him! And, now he’s circling back to guilt for treating her like she’s weak.

All in all, he’s so damn furious that he doesn’t realize he’s no longer alone until she grabs hold of his arm just as he goes to swing again.

“Jesus, Bucky. I know you’re grouchy, but don’t you think destroying five punching bags in thirty minutes is enough? Save some aggression for the run.”

He looks up to tell her something (I’m sorry? Damn right I’m grouchy? Let me take you home and wrap you in blankets so that nothing will ever hurt you again?) and catches sight of her sweat-soaked face. He hates how far she takes things with the running. It’s like she’s trying to see what the limits are, how much she can punish her body before it gives out and she drops. That’s what it was in the very beginning after the snap. She’s told him that. Now he wonders if she’s really as recovered from everything that’s happened as she claims.

“Have you had anything to drink? Water, or-” She groans and reaches to detach the punching bag (there’s a decent sized rip in it where he was hitting it over and over), making her shirt ride up. Her clothes were already so tight that just seeing her out of the corner of his eye was making it hard to think, but now they’re completely adhered to her in a way that’s nearly obscene thanks to all the sweat. Dammit. Think about something else. He needs to think about something else.

“Yes, I’m on my second water bottle, thank you Barnes. I’m not stupid, you know.”

“Just self-destructive.” It slips out before he can stuff it down. Her mouth falls open in shock momentarily, but then she squares her shoulders and looks him directly in the eyes.

“You’re one to talk. Always running straight towards the fire instead of putting it out first.”

“That’s my job.”

“It’s your hangup.” She laughs bitterly. “Bucky Barnes, the big, bad Winter Soldier. You’ve decided you’re so fucked up that the only way you can make amends is to run headlong towards whatever’s trying to kill you, without backup I might add, and keep to your mission no matter what your personal damage is.”

“Says the woman who took a bullet and stopped Sam from announcing that you’re hit.” They’re teetering closer and closer to a fight with every nearly snarled word, but he’s powerless to stop it. In fact, he’s ready to go. Have it out. But not right now, because-

“Hey.” He catches her arm just as she starts to hoist another punching bag onto the hook. “Be careful! You’re still healing.” -she’s hellbent on hurting herself. Again.

She whirls around as if he’s slapped her.

“Oh my god. You have to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop treating me like I’m going to break!” Her voice is shrill, rising higher and higher with each syllable. “I love you, but you are driving me insane. I am not your child-”

“No, you’re the person I want to marry!” He takes a deep breath, preparing to follow up with, “-and you keep acting like you have a death wish”, but before he can-

“You won’t even fuck me anymore!” Immediately, her eyes go wide and she slaps a hand over her mouth.

If her declaration surprised her, it absolutely stunned him so, not quite sure what else to do, he takes a few steps back and sits down. A few seconds pass before she approaches and, with a heavy sigh, sinks down next to him.

“Bucky, I am so sorry. I don’t know where any of this is coming from-”

“I think you do, Doll.” Her eyes dart nervously between his face and the floor. On instinct, he reaches over and takes her hand. “And so do I.” He takes a few moments to rearrange his thoughts before pushing ahead. “A lot has changed since-”

“The world ended. We lost. And then we won.” He nods.

“Yeah, and I don’t think either of us have quite wrapped our heads around it. I know I haven’t.”

It’s silent for a moment, and then, voice trembling, she tells him,

“After you went away, I was completely lost. Didn’t know why I had to stay. What kind of cruel trick is it, just when everything was starting to go right-” He finally had the poison of HYDRA sucked out of him, she’d found a safe place where she didn’t have to run and hide because of something she was born with, he’d worked up the nerve to ask her if she’d maybe one day be his wife. “-and then it’s wiped out? You finally went somewhere I couldn’t follow.” He still can’t imagine what those five years must’ve been like, not just for her, but everyone else who survived the snap. “I didn’t want to keep going. But I had to.” She chuckles. “Steve wouldn’t let me throw in the towel.”

A smile forms on his own face. “Yeah, he had a habit of doing that.”

“I guess…” She sighs. “I don’t know. I got harder, rougher around the edges. I thought I could just go back to normal once everyone came back-”

“But old habits die hard.” It’s not a question, but she nods.

“Yeah, and as much as I chip away at it, I’m not sure I’ll ever get back to who I was before.”

“You won’t.” She peers up at him, eyes wide in shock, maybe a hint of sadness. “I can tell you that right now from experience. You won’t go back, but-” He’s had a lot of time to consider this, so he can say it and absolutely believe it. “-I love the girl that’s here now. She’s pretty amazing, rough edges and all.”

She’s sitting so close. He could pull her into his lap, just hold her for a minute. So, that’s what he does, and just like the first time, they fit together perfectly, like she was made to fit in his arms, or maybe he was made to hold her. Either way, it leaves no doubt in his mind that they belong together.

“You changed. Everyone does. You got stronger and tougher, because that’s who you had to be. And I wasn’t there to change with you.” He can feel her shoulders shake, and even though she’s facing away from him, he knows she’s fighting back tears. “But I’m gonna catch up. It’s just taking me a while to get it through my thick skull that my girl’s a badass, and I need to ease off the bodyguard routine a little.” There. That’s more like it. A laugh, even if it’s a small one. “I just worry about you, is all. I don’t know how to stop it, and I’m not sure I can, but I’m working on it.”

“I worry about you too, you know.” She sniffs, swiping at her nose with her hand. “I’m fucking terrified because, now that I’m like you, I know what your limits are. I’m scared you’ll forget them, or you’ll ignore them because you’re trying to be a good man.” She cranes her head, meeting his gaze. “But you are a good man, Bucky Barnes. You never stopped being one, no matter what you think.”

“I think your picture of me might be more flattering than who I really am.”

“Shut up.” She presses her palm over his mouth. “I have visions, so seeing is never my problem. And it’s not the way I’m picturing you. We’ve known each other long enough for the shine to wear off.” Never. It’ll never be possible for him to know her so long that she’s not absolutely golden from where he’s standing. “It’s who you’ve shown me you are. And if the rest of the world doesn’t see it, that’s their problem. Not yours.”

He’s not sure if he buys all that, but it’s enough that she does. She sees him as that man, so he’ll try every day of his life to be just that.

“Come on.” Gently pushing her off of him, he stands and offers her his hand. “That’s enough training for today. We’re still wounded.”

She chuckles. “Is that your excuse for calling it early?”

He nods, barely suppressing a grin. “That, and you’ve gotta change into something that doesn’t fit you like a second skin before my brain permanently short-circuits.”

“Showers, then?”

“Showers.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

The compound sustained heavy damage thanks to Thanos crashing a ship into it, but in the past few months (helped along by Pepper’s billions and the entire galaxy’s appreciation towards the Avengers in equal parts), enough repairs have been done to make it partially usable. In this case, the locker room. Just the one, though. Which, of course means co-ed showers.

She won’t admit it, but she’s particularly appreciative of that little detail today. As she circled the compound on her last lap, she saw that the only two cars there are hers and Barnes. They’re the only two people here, and she fully intends to use that to her advantage.

“Join me? I don’t want to overextend my shoulder trying to wash my hair or back.” It’s a blatant lie, and from his expression, she can tell that he knows it too. But, he nods.

“Yeah, doll. I can do that.” Part one of the plan has been executed beautifully. Onward to part two.

She purposely leaves the travel sized bottles of shampoo and body wash on the floor so that, after rinsing off for far longer than is really necessary, she has to bend over to retrieve them. If it weren’t for her enhanced hearing, she’d completely miss the sharp intake of breath in response to her little show, but she catches it and can’t help grinning to herself. Part two: get him as worked up as she is. So far, so good.

The feeling of his fingers massaging her scalp, working the shampoo through her hair, is almost enough to make her forget that she’s a woman on a mission. Almost. As soon as she’s rinsed the soap out of her face, she turns to him.

“Your turn. Bend.” It’s not the first time they’ve done this, and as always, she has to fight back a laugh as he inclines his head towards her, the entirety of his hair falling forward to cover his face. “This used to take a lot longer before you decided to chop it all off.” He chuckles, eyes closed against the soap.

“What can I say? Seventy-three years without a haircut is my limit.” She can’t blame him, and although it was a shock at first, she’s come to like this new look. It makes him look…younger, somehow. More boyish. Like his life hasn’t contained as many horrors as they both know full well it has.

“You checking for lice or something?”

“Huh?” That jerks her out of her sentimental daze. “Looks like you’re clear.”

There’s no way to put it politely. She’s straight up ogling him as he rinses off. Five damn years…

“Ready to get your back?” And, she just got caught staring.

“Sure.”

His hands are gentle, putting as little pressure on her injured shoulder as possible, growing firmer as they work down her back. She holds her breath as she feels his palms ghost over the swell of her ass, but then he’s back to safer territory. At least, that’s what she thinks until the metal arm snakes around her chest, just below her breasts, holding her in place. His free hand runs down from her sternum to her middle, stopping just above her hips, then- fuck. Nothing. He’s backing away.

“Do you need help with your legs?” No, what she needs help with is located between them. Suddenly, the shower feels far too hot, and she’s desperate to cool off.

“That’s okay.” Her voice is shaky, and she mentally berates herself as she steps under the spray, rinsing away the soap.

She’s not at all sure that her excuse for leaving the shower and going to towel off made any sense, but with a few feet between them, she’s able to breath again. Alright, scratch the whole “shower seduction” idea. It wasn’t that great to begin with. She gets him as hot and bothered as she is, and then what? Shower sex is a slippery affair, and plus there’s the height difference… in the steamed up mirror, she catches sight of him climbing out of the shower and toweling off. Fuck it. What does she have to lose?

“Come here.” As he turns around, she hops up on the counter top (thank fuck Stark went all out and got the sinks that can easily hold the weight of an adult), allowing her towel to slip further down her chest.

She doesn’t miss the way his eyes flit down to her cleavage before settling back on her face as he stands in front of her.

“Yeah, Doll?”

“Let me get your hair. You’ll never get it dry yourself.” She’s really running low on excuses, but if she plays her cards right, she won’t have to keep up this ruse for much longer.

“You know-” She murmurs against his ear as she starts working a towel over his tousled locks, “-if you don’t take me right now, I’m gonna be really offended.”

His head snaps up, and she nearly drops the towel.

“Well, I can’t let that happen, can I?”

She has a smart-ass remark all planned out, but then his lips are pressed against hers, hard, insistent, and her brain completely empties of anything other than pure need. She’s not completely sure how, but somehow the towel wrapped around her torso (it’s so short, it didn’t even cover her ass sitting down) disappears, leaving them chest to chest, both still slightly damp from the shower. On instinct, her legs wrap around his back, bringing them so close together she can feel his cock twitch against her thigh.

“The floor, or-” It’s murmured against her ear between nibbles.

“No. Here.” It’s all she can do to hold back a moan as his whole body rumbles with quiet laughter.

“Someone’s eager.”

She leans back far enough to peer into his eyes.

“And you’re not?” The response is a thumb against her clit, and she has to bite down hard on his shoulder to muffle a yelp.

“If I’d known you were ready, you wouldn’t have gotten any sleep for the past two months.” That would’ve been a very small price to pay.

Five years is a long time, and her body tenses up at the intrusion of his finger inside of her, but she immediately forces her muscles to relax, and within seconds, it’s all she can do not to writhe against him.

“That’s it. Relax. I’ll take care of you.” It’s a lost cause. This is going to be noisy. She hazily thinks to herself that it’s all his fault.

He’s always been one for foreplay, making sure she’ll be comfortable once they actually get around to the main event, but finally enough is enough and, reaching between them, she stills his wrist.

“Get inside me.”

“Are you sure? You’re still tight-” Disentangling one of her arms from around his neck, she gives his hair a sharp tug.

“I’m like you now, remember? You’re not going to break me.”

He pulls back from her, hesitating, eyes darting between her face and the door.

“What?”

“I don’t have-” Oh. She quickly runs the calculations in her head. Given which day of the month it is, the likelihood would be-

“It’ll be fine. Just pull out.” To her relief, he doesn’t argue.

Her breath catches as he pushes inside of her, and if the panting against her neck is anything to judge from, she’s not the only one affected.

“It’s been too damn long.” Despite the situation (or perhaps because of it), she laughs breathlessly.

“You think it’s been too long? Try five fucking years!” His laugh tickles her neck.

“You’re never gonna stop using that one, are you?”

“Nope. I think I’ve earned the right.” After all, he constantly reminds her that he had to wait 98 years to meet the love of his life, so fair is fair.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to make it up to you.”

“Sounds like you just set yourself a challenge.”

“Guess I’d better get to work then.” As he says it, he pulls nearly all the way out only to slam back in again.

It’s primal, the way their bodies move together, desperate for a connection that’s been missing for so long. There’s no room or need for words to be spoken; their gasped breaths and strangled moans say it all. His hand sneaks between them, toying with her nub, and that’s what sends her over the edge. It’s the tipping point for him too because, muffling his cries against her shoulder, he pulls out just in time.

“We shoulda done that before the shower.” She’s still gasping for breath, but it forces a laugh from her. He follows suit, offering her a spare towel to clean herself up.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Barnes.” He shoots her a questioning look as she hops down on shaky legs. “I thought it was good before, but damn.”

He laughs, pulling on his jeans. “I didn’t want to risk breaking the bed. I’m a gentleman like that.” She knows the real concern was her safety, but if she concentrates on that too hard, she’ll start going mushy, and in this instance, crying after sex seems like it would kill the mood.

“You know-” She pulls her t shirt over her head, not bothering with a bra. “-I never really liked the bed I have now anyway.” It’s also really too small for two full-grown adults to share comfortably.

Sliding his duffle bag over his shoulder, he takes her hand. “Then maybe we should go home? Give you an excuse to get a new one?” Before she can answer-

“Go home. Please, I’m begging you, for the love of god, go.” Her eyes dart towards the source of the noise. The door, or more specifically, the other side of it. “Hearing you and the bionic man fucking once was enough. I’m gonna shoot you both and then myself if I have to listen to round two.”

Bucky catches her eye and mouths “Oops!”, sending her into a fit of giggles.

“You know Sam, you could’ve just walked away. You didn’t have to wait outside the door like a creep.” She has to bite her fist to keep from laughing out loud.

“Yeah, trust me. I could hear you from all the way down the hall.”

“Sorry.” She gasps it out between bouts of laughter, and she must be pulling a funny face, because he snickers to.

“No, you’re not.” No, she really isn’t. Just that they got caught.

“We’re heading out. You’ve got the place to yourself.” Giving his hand a tug, she pulls open the door, revealing a flustered Sam.

“I hope you remembered to wipe down the counter, you nasties!”

As they make their way down the corridor, Bucky calls out,

“See you Monday?”

“Yeah. And you’d better be wearing pants!”

[eyesforjade]

2: the snap

Summary: The situation wasn’t going as Tony wanted, not even close. When he went out for a walk with Pepper that morning, he didn't expect to be on an alien ship going to another planet, much less that a magician would appear during this walk, accompanied by Bruce Banner with yet another threat for them to confront. Stark hoped his life would become easier after he had partially abandoned his armor and chosen to live a normal life with Pepper and his daughter Elisabeth, but things had to get worse in one way or another.

Word count: 10,5k.

Warnings: I’m from Brazil, I write in portuguese and translate to english, with what I know and learn from the language, and with some help of google translate, it may oy may not be understadble, but I’m trying my best, and hope you like it.

Masterlist

 The situation wasn’t going as Tony wanted, not even close. When he went out for a walk with Pepper that morning, he didn't expect to be on an alien ship going to another planet, much less that a magician would appear during this walk, accompanied by Bruce Banner with yet another threat for them to confront. Stark hoped his life would become easier after he had partially abandoned his armor and chosen to live a normal life with Pepper and his daughter Elisabeth, but things had to get worse in one way or another.

He remembers the tranquility of things before leaving home. Lisa was talking excitedly about an excursion the Midtown school would take the students, and how excited she and Peter were. He remembers to smile, and to face Pepper who had a huge smile on her face, he remembers when his daughter left home to go to school, and Pepper looked at him saying that these two were unexpected, and that she was curious to know where that relationship would go. Tony thought the same thing, and so he fought tooth and nail to keep the boy safe.

Thinking on a positive side, Tony was happy to be with Peter, because it meant his little girl was safe on Earth. It was selfish to think about it like that, the boy took an important part in Tony's life, he was like the son he never had, and he has won this place since he started a friendship with his daughter a few years ago. The boy had acquired powers after being bitten by a radioactive spider and assumed the mantle of Spiderman after that, years later, Stark would recruit him to help him with the Captain America X Sokovia Accords case, or as his daughter nicknamed "Civil war".

Which led him to the current situation. Trapped in a spaceship, with a plan based on a movie about aliens, without many options, Tony follows the boy's plan without hesitation, and in the end, it was a good plan, perhaps not the best way to save the wizard, but a plan that had worked. The spaceship belonged to the three now, and the next step was to think about what they would do next, Stark watched Peter talking to Strange's magic cloak, while his own costume retracted, turning over the clothes he wore for his walk.

 "We got to turn the ship over." Stephen speaks, getting up quickly, the cape quickly adapts to his body.

“Yeah, now he wants to run. Great plan”. Tony replies approaching Parker, seeing if the boy hasn't been hurt in any way. If in Sokovia his daughter had gone against him, just because he was using Peter in a battle that wasn’t his, imagine what she would do if the boy got hurt here.

"No, I want to protect the stone". After checking it, Tony turns to the steering part of the ship, it wasn’t designed for human hands, but rather, Thanos's hands, alone he wouldn’t be able to control the ship.

“And I want you to thank me. Go ahead, I’m listening”.

"For what?" He hears the man's voice. "Nearly blasting me to space?"

"Who just saved your magical ass?" Tony turns around, facing the man. "Me".

"I seriously don't know how you fit your head into that helmet." Tony goes back to analyzing the system, while Stephen approaches him.

"Admit it, you should have ducked out when I told you to". Peter didn't dare say anything while the two argued, so he just kept close to the two of them watching. “I tried to bench you, you refused. Almost as stubborn as my daughter...”

"Unlike everyone else in your life, I don't work for you."

"And due to that fact, we’re now in a flying doughnut..." The comment made Strange roll his eyes, this conversation wouldn’t take them anywhere. "Billions of miles away from Earth, with no backup".

"I’m backup". Peter takes the comment as an opportunity to join the conversation.

"No, you’re a stowaway". Tony says quickly, pointing a finger at himself and then at Stephen. “The adults are talking”.

"I’m sorry, I’m confused as to the relationship here." Stephen looks at Stark with a confused expression, pointing his finger at Peter. "What is he, your ward?"

"No". Peter quickly extends his hand. "I'm Peter, by the way."

"Doctor Strange". Stephen speaks quickly, not shaking Peter's hand.

"Oh, we’re using our made-up names". Peter steps back nervously. "Um… I'm Spiderman, then". Stephen looks at him, and without saying anything else, starts to approach Tony.

“This ship is self-correcting its course. Thing’s autopilot". Tony informs the other man.

"Can we control it?" Peter begins to approach the two, while Strange leads questions about the situation. "Fly us home?" After a time of no response from the other man, Stephen speaks again. "Stark?"

"Yeah?”

"Can you take us home?" Tony nods, but his mind doesn't want to follow that plan. "Yeah, I heard you". Stark folds his arms, looking back at the wizard. "I'm not so sure if we should".

"Under no circumstance can we bring the Time Stone to Thanos". The wizard makes it clear once again, making Tony sigh. "I don't think you quite understand what's at stake here".

"No". Tony approaches the man. “It’s you who doesn't understand, that Thanos has been inside my head for six years, since he sent an army to New York and now he's back!” Peter remembers the 2012 attack, like it was yesterday, Lisa was at his house when the attack started, Pepper had left the girl there before going to a conference in Washington, and he remembers what it was like to see his best friend worried about her father. "And I don't know what to do, so, I’m not so sure if it’s a better plan to fight him on our turf or his... But you saw what they did, what they can do". Stephen regarded Tony as if he was as crazy as he seemed, that plan could end terribly badly, and trial and error wasn’t a viable option. “At least on his turf, he’s not expecting. So, I say we take the fight to him”. Tony was silent for a few seconds, considering the other man's expression, he didn't know how far they could go, and it was a very risky thing, but it was worth the try. "Doctor. Do you concur?"

"Alright, Stark". The man speaks calmly, he knew what he was risking there, and understood the responsibility he had the moment he put the necklace holding the stone on his neck. “We go to him. But you have to understand... If it comes to saving you or the kid or the Time Stone... I will not hesitate to let either of you die”. While Tony didn't look shaken, Peter's heart had probably skipped a beat or two, it was a lot of responsibility, planning such an attack, and it was at times like this, that he would rather have listened to his best friend, he should have stayed on the bus. "I can't, because the fate of the universe depends on it".

"Nice. Good. Moral compass”. Tony fiddles with his cloak, as if fixing it, and starts to approach Peter. "We’re straight. Alright, kid". Peter didn't move, and just watched Tony make a hand gesture, from one shoulder to the other. "You’re an Avenger now." Despite his nervousness, and as the whole situation scared him, Peter couldn't help but smile at what the man had said, he understood the responsibility of carrying that title, and he knew that he couldn't let Tony down, he couldn't let anyone down.

 ☼

 It was supposed to be just another excursion, or that was what Elisabeth Stark thought when she left home. When you're the daughter of the famous billionaire and philanthropist Tony Stark, you can expect literally anything when you leave the house, going from being recognized by your father's not-so-secret "identity" to a donut-shaped alien spaceship invading Earth, and today, the tour to the Museum of Modern Art in Manhattan had been interrupted by the second option, and Lisa couldn't be more nervous.

Elisabeth had seen the ship from the place she sat near MJ, who was just talking to her about her friends and the place they were going to. She could see that Peter had also seen the ship and knew well that the boy wouldn’t be on the bus for very long, which made her even more nervous. She knew him well enough, knew that he wouldn’t miss an opportunity to help the city, and understood that she wouldn’t be able to stop him for anything in the world.

 "Holy shit!" Lisa and MJ turned their gaze to Peter and Ned, the four now aware of the ship in the sky, and Elisabeth was sure that Parker had asked Leeds to distract the rest of the students. “WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!” Without having to do anything else, Ned gets up and goes to the back of the bus, followed by MJ and several other students, leaving Peter and Lisa sitting in their seats. "THERE’S A SPACESHIP!"

"Think about what you're doing". Lisa whispers to her best friend, watching him put web shooters on his wrists.

"Saving the city". He responds with a smile, trying to reassure the girl.

"Putting yourself in danger". Peter with a quick gesture, puts his hand on his friend's face, giving a huge smile.

"I wouldn't be the friendly neighborhood buddy if I didn't do that". Before Peter could move, Elisabeth held his hand, making him look at her quickly, Ned's distraction had worked, but he needed to be quicker if he wanted to leave before anyone noticed that he was gone. "I'll be right back".

"No matter what you think at the time..." He looks at his friend confused, not understanding where she was going. "If my father thinks about getting on that ship, stop him, and above all, if he gets in that thing, get back to the bus".

"Lis, I ..."

"Promise me". Without saying anything else, the boy nods, leaving through the emergency exit quickly, leaving Elisabeth alone on the seat. Taking a deep breath, Elisabeth gets up, following the example of the other students, but soon realizing that one of the students hadn’t followed Ned's distraction, sitting on the seat in the back, Harry Osborn was smiling towards her.

"That was... interesting?" With a nervous smile, Lisa notices the students return to their seats and the bus stops, quickly, she sits down next to Harry. "So, Spiderman and Iron Heart, great partners..." Harry was one of her best friends, she met the boy at a science fair when the boy complained about his father giving more recognition to other people than to his own son, this started a friendship between the two, and has been expanding, and now Harry, Peter, Ned, MJ and Lisa were inseparable.

"Didn't you go see the donut-shaped ship?" Harry smiles widely at the comment.

“Are you kidding? This to me is like a weekend dinner at home”. Lisa accompanies her friend, laughing about it. The driver suggested that everyone stay calm and reported the situation to the teacher responsible for the excursion, and it seemed that Roger Harrington didn’t have a smooth trip.

"I urge everyone to remain calm, the roads leading to Manhattan have been temporarily closed." The professor points to the ship. “Because of that. We have no prediction for when we can continue our journey, or if we should continue, so stay together and stay on the bus, and...” All students remain silent, and the teacher seemed lost in his lines, just nodding his head and sitting back down.

"You know, I'm starting to think that this guy should take a vacation". MJ says quickly, approaching the bench that Osborn and Stark sat on, Lisa turns around with a smile, seeing that Ned and Flash were with her.

"Stark, you who are experienced in this kind of thing..." Flash starts making MJ roll his eyes, waiting for something stupid to come out of her mouth. "How likely are we to die on this bus?"

"That’s so low mood, Thompson." Brad yells from the back of the bus.

"Yeah, nobody's going to die." MJ replies, but in her eyes, I could see that there was a certain uncertainty in what she said.

"We will only be stuck on the road for a few minutes, it's not like the world is going to end for this". Betty speaks, rolling her eyes and sitting down next to Ned.

 However, what would be minutes ended up becoming hours. Stark remained vigilant with the ship practically all the time, talked to her friends to distract her mind, while the bus wasn’t moving anymore, and after practically an hour, the ship disappeared from the skies, and she had no news of Peter and neither of her father, indicating that the two of them would probably be inside the ship. After a few more minutes, Elisabeth realized that she also couldn't stand there, she had to get off the bus and find help as soon as possible, to know what was going on outside the bus.

She could hear Harry and Flash talking about the ship, and Ned was asking her what would happen next. MJ sat in silence on the bench next to her and looked out the window as if all of her problems were going to disappear while she didn't look, Betty stayed close to them, but hardly talked, Lisa was sure she liked the company of Leeds, and that somehow it comforted her. Stark didn't know how to answer all of the questions, and felt almost immediately, her heart ease when her cell phone started ringing. She looked quickly at her cell phone, seeing the contact name “Uncle Rhodey”, without thinking twice, she answers.

 "Hello?" Her words came out almost in a whisper, and she felt relief when James Rhodes started talking to her.

"What's up, little princess?" The group of friends she had around her were practically silent, and all she could hear on the bus was the other students talking to each other.

"He's on the ship, isn't he?" Elisabeth knew the answer to that question, she understood that everyone needed to act quickly to stop the threat, including her.

"According to Pepper, he is". The girl hears this, and closes her eyes in agreement, as if she is trying to assimilate it yet, the chances of Peter being on the ship with him were enormous. "And that's why I need you, there's something coming, and we don't have enough people to fight it".

"Which is?" She opens her eyes again, seeing Harry looking worried, he even holds her hand, and she realizes that her friends had practically the same expression as Osborn.

"A big guy named Thanos, he's after some Stones". Stones? Stark had so many questions in his head, who was Thanos? What did he want? And what were these Stones he was looking for? “Listen, I need you here, where are you? Do you need me to pick you up?”

"On a bus on the Queensboro Bridge, where do I need to go?" From the expression that Harry had now on his face, he knew that she wouldn’t be with them, and quickly, the boy was already getting up to talk to the teacher, being followed by MJ and Ned.

"Do you have your suit with you?" She quickly says yes. "Perfect, meet me at the Avengers headquarters, I'll explain everything here".

 Ignoring Flash's various questions regarding what was going on, Elisabeth gets up, passing Harry and MJ, looking at the teacher. He seemed nervous, but he wasn't sure how to deal with the situation, letting one of his students out was practically irresponsible, all the students on the bus were under his supervision, not that Peter Parker cared about this, but looking at situation, he knew that the girl wouldn’t be useful here, and wherever the Avengers were, it would be the best place for her to be.

That was her cue, and she quickly went out of the bus, feeling every single eye of each classmate on her back. She passed a few cars, until she found the perfect takeoff point without damaging nobody’s property. Her suit had the same technology as her father's suits, Lisa had designed it herself, but always with some adjustments from Tony, the nanotechnology used in both suits was put on their bodies succinctly, while Tony's armor fit in his body according to the clothes he wore, hers fit inside a nanotechnological bracelet, where the armor stayed when she wasn’t wearing it, and with just a touch, the armor fit on her body.

With the armor on her body, she starts to take off, going to the meeting point. Passing through Manhattan made her aware of the damage done by the invaders, the records of her father's armor, indicated that Friday had evacuated the streets until 43, and notified the rescuers in the case of injured civilians. The streets were practically impassable, cars abandoned in practically the entire region of attack, and some places destroyed, probably due to the fighting that happened there.

Without thinking too much, Lisa accelerates the flight, needed to get to the Avengers headquarters right away, and find out how she could help. She took advantage of the flight to check some things about her father and Peter, Tony had activated the sending of 17: A, a new suit for Peter that the two had work together, with nanotechnology the suit would give an upgrade in everything that the old uniform of Peter had, including a way to go after his father in space, both his suit and Tony's were far from being traceable, and that worried her a lot.

Arriving at the base, she didn’t need to be received by anyone, her costume had already retracted into the bracelet, and she walked quickly through the halls of the place, meeting James in one of the meeting rooms, having a conference with the secretary Ross. Elisabeth remained silent, waiting for Rhodey to finish that conversation, she didn't know what was going on, but from what she heard from the conversation, Vision hadn’t yet been found, which only opened more questions in her head, why were they after Vision?

 "Still no word from Vision?"

"Satellites lost him somewhere over Edinburgh". Rhodey sends a smile towards her, being returned, she leans against a wall near the door that she had entered, crossing her arms.

"On a stolen Quinjet with four of the world’s most wanted criminals”. That's when she realized, Steve and Natasha were involved in this, she was sure Wanda was with Vision, just as Sam would be with Steve wherever he wanted him to go. If the situation was a case of life and death for the four to reveal their location to the world, it meant that it was imminent danger, just as Ultron was to Sokovia.

"You know they're only criminals because you’ve chosen to call them that, right, sir?" She looks back at Rhodes.

"My God, Rhodes". Rhodes had a serious look; it was the kind of look she only got when she did something that no one would approve. "Your talent for horseshit rivals my own”.

"If it weren't for those Accords, Vision would’ve been right here”. She looks at the hologram, seeing Ross quickly approach James.

"I remember your signature on those papers, Colonel".

"That’s right". Rhodes nods. "And I’m pretty sure I’ve paid for that".

"You have second thoughts?"

"Not anymore". The noise of the door; indicates that new people arrived at the place, she approaches Rhodes, seeing Steve, Natasha, Wanda and Sam, who was helping Vision to walk, her heart squeezes, she hadn’t seen the four in a long time.

"Mr. Secretary". Steve speaks, stopping at the door, looking at the three, Elisabeth can't help but smile at him.

"You got some nerve". The secretary walks again, facing Rogers. "I’ll give you that".

"You could use some of that right now". Natasha replies, the woman is completely different from what Elisabeth remembered, her hair was short at the shoulders and blond, as if she had changed to be easier to not be recognized.

"The world’s on fire". The secretary looks back at Steve. "And you think, all is forgiven?"

"I'm not looking for forgiveness." Steve speaks quickly. “And I'm way past asking for permission. Earth just lost her best defender. So we’re here to fight”. Rogers gets closer to the hologram. "And if you wanna stand in our way, we'll fight you, too".

"Arrest them". The secretary says, turning his gaze to Rhodes, that he does not lose his serious expression.

"All over it". Without thinking twice, Rhodes disconnects the communication with the secretary, making the holograms disappear. "That’s a court-martial". Elisabeth smiles at the comment, making James smile too. "It's great to see you, Cap". The two shake hands, while the others enter the room smiling.

"You too, Rhodey." Elisabeth quickly hugs Steve, while Natasha hugs Rhodes, and then quickly hugs Lisa.

"You grew up so much, what did two years did to you?" Natasha comments, staring at the girl, while Steve smiles and agrees, the little reunion is short-lived when Rhodes speaks again.

"Well... You guys really look like crap". Lisa turns her gaze to the other three, Wanda looked a little shaken, Sam had the same expression he always had in situations like this and Vision had a serious wound in his stomach. "Must’ve been a rough couple of years".

"Yeah, well, hotels weren't exactly five star". Sam says, giving a big smile.

"Uh, I think you look great". Another voice appears, and almost instantly, everyone turns around, seeing the new presence in the room. "Uh… heh… Yeah, I'm back”. Bruce Banner had a nervous smile, the Hulk had stolen a ship two years ago and fled far away, and now, he was back.

"Hi, Bruce". Natasha says, making the man practically speechless, the two looked at each other as if nothing else was important, while the rest of the room just watched the two.

"Nat".

"This is awkward”. Sam whispers, making everyone look at him, and then everyone started moving, going to another room, where they finally discuss what to do next. Elisabeth went to the other room with Natasha and Steve, and the two were telling about how much they had lost from her growth in the past two years, the two have been with her since the attack in 2012, where her father had become friends with the other Avengers, everything changed with the Sokovia Accords.

"So, we gotta assume they’re coming back, right?" Elisabeth turns her attention to Rhodes, who was facing a hologram of the two aliens who called themselves Children of Thanos, who ambushed Wanda and Vision.

"And they can clearly find us." Wanda comments, looking at everyone, Bruce walked around the room, and seemed to be the one who knew most about Thanos.

"We need all hands on deck". Bruce says aloud, looking at Natasha. "Where's Clint?"

"After the whole Accords situation, he and Scott took a deal." Bruce nods his head. "It was too tough for the families, they’re on house arrest".

"Who's Scott?" Bruce asks.

"Ant-Man". Steve responds, making Bruce turn around in confusion.

"There’s an Ant-Man and a Spider-Man?" Elisabeth nods, making Bruce wince. “Okay, look... Thanos has the biggest army in the universe... And he is not gonna stop until he...” He pauses, as if trying to ease the situation. “He gets… Vision’s Stone”.

"Well then, we have to protect it". Elisabeth speaks, getting up from the chair.

"No, we have to destroy it". Vision joins the conversation, making everyone look at him, who has a calm expression on his face. “I’ve been giving a good deal of thought to this entity in my head, about its nature”. Everyone was silent, just watching him, as he approached Wanda. "But also, its composition. I think that if it were exposed to a sufficiently powerful energy source, something, very similar to its own signature, perhaps… Its molecular integrity could fail".

"And you, with it". Wanda looks at him calmly, everyone had understood what Vision was suggesting, destroying the Stone meant that Thanos wouldn’t be able to catch her. "We’re not having this conversation”.

"Eliminating the stone is the only way to be certain that Thanos can't get it”.

"That’s too high a price”. Vision holds his partner's head gently, staring at her.

"Only you have the power to pay it". Without saying anything else, Wanda moves away from his touch, walking away. "Thanos threatens half the Universe. One life cannot stand in the way of defeating him". Vision alert everyone, nobody seemed interested in following that plan.

"But it should". Steve speaks. "We don’t trade lives, Vision".

"Captain, 70 years ago, you laid down your life to save how many millions of people". Vision approaches Rogers, making him turn completely towards him. "Tell me, why is this any different?"

"Because you might have a choice”. Elisabeth lets go, facing Bruce.

"Your mind is made up of a complex construct of overlays". Vision is silent. “J.A.R.V.I.S., Ultron, Tony, me, the Stone. All of them mixed together. All of them learning from one another”.

“You’re saying Vision isn’t just the stone?” Wanda asks.

"We are saying that if we take out the stone..." Elisabeth turns to Wanda, gesturing with her hands. “There’s still a whole lot of Vision left. Perhaps the best parts”.

"Can we do that?" Natasha asks, facing the two.

"Not us. Not here". Bruce replies, looking at Lisa, the two knew that alone, neither of them were capable of that nor they didn’t have none of the resource needed.

"You better find someone, and somewhere fast". Rhodes speaks quickly. "Ross isn’t exactly just gonna let you guys have your old rooms back”.

"I know somewhere". Steve concludes, giving everyone a smile.

 ☼

 "You alright? That was close". Tony lets go, helping Stephen pull himself together. They had controlled the ship to land on Titan, ready for a surprise attack on Thanos. "I owe you one".

"Let me say…” The two turned to Peter, who was hanging upside down on one of his webs. "If aliens wind up implanting eggs in my chest or something, and I eat one of you, I’m sorry”.

"I don’t wanna hear another single pop culture out of you for the rest of the trip. You understand?" Tony says quickly.

"I’m trying to say that… Something is coming". Peter concludes, making Stephen and Tony look at him crookedly without understanding, and that's when a bomb is dropped between the two adults, making the three fly with the impact.

"THANOS!"

 Everything happened very fast, the three attackers entered quickly where the ship had landed. Attacking without thinking twice, the same man who had screamed attacked Stranger, who quickly defended himself with magic, and then immediately sent his cloak to disable him. Tony fought with another man, who were wearing what appeared to be boots with thrusters, two guns in his hands and a strange mask, in a blow to fight back, the attacker attached a magnetic device to his armor, causing it to be pulled onto the beam of nearest metal. The first thing that Peter manages to focus his vision on, is a woman with antennae, which makes him move away as quickly as possible.

 "DON’T PUT YOUR EGGS ON ME!" He quickly gets up, throwing webs in her direction, holding it in place, then Peter is hit by the same man who fought Tony earlier.

"Stay down, clown". The man starts to shoot, making Peter move quickly upwards, trying to avoid the shots, the boy commands the armor to open the new feature, the four mechanical arms attached to his back, helping him move faster, an attempt who was thwarted by the man, who threw a device towards him, who dispersed itself on two electric cords that he tied around his waist, stopping him.

"Die, blanket of death!" Tony quickly detached himself from the beam and put his foot on the attacker's chest that had been trapped by Stranger's cloak, he now looked at Tony, while he pointed one hand at him, ready to shoot.

"Alright, everybody, stay where you are…" The man who arrested Tony on the beam screams was holding Peter hostage, aiming the gun at his head. "Chill the F out". Strange had a spell ready, and hoped he didn't have to use it, the man holding Peter tightens something on his helmet, revealing his face, his weapon turns to Tony. "I'm gonna ask you this one time. Where's Gamora?"

"Yeah, I’ll do you one better”. Tony's helmet retracts showing his face, while he aims at the fallen man and the man who had Peter. "Who’s Gamora?"

"I’ll do you one better". The man on the floor says. "Why is Gamora?"

"Tell me where the girl is, or I swear to you, I’m gonna Fench-fry this little freak". The other threatens again by pressing the gun further on Peter's head.

"Let’s do it!" Tony shapes a large nanotechnology weapon, aiming at his partner lying on the floor. “You shoot my guy, I blast him. LET’S GO!"

“Do it, Quill! I can take it". The man on the floor screams, revealing the name of the man aiming the gun at Parker.

"No, he can't take it!" The alien that Peter had webbed screams after Quill.

"She's right." Strange speaks. "You can’t ".

"Oh yeah? You don’t wanna tell me where she is?” Quill speaks again. "That’s fine. I’ll kill all three of you and beat it out of Thanos myself”. Quill turns his gaze to Peter, tightening his grip on the gun. "Starting with you".

“Wait, what. Thanos?” Stephen asks looking at Quill. “Alright, let me ask you this one time: What master do you serve?”

"What master do I serve?" Quill repeats looking confused. "What am I supposed to say? ‘Jesus’?” Tony takes a deep breath, looking at Strange, rolling his eyes as he turns to Quill.

"You’re from Earth?"

"I’m not from Earth, I'm from Missouri". Quill responds, staring at Stark.

"Yeah, that’s on Earth, dip-shit". Tony removes his foot from the man and returns his armor to normal. "What are you hassling us for?"

"So, you're not with Thanos?" Peter asks slowly.

"With Thanos?!" Quill repeats, facing Tony. “No, I’m here to kill Thanos! He took my girl-” Quill stops aiming the gun at Peter. "Wait, who are you?" Peter follows the example of the other two, and removes his helmet, revealing his face.

"We’re the Avengers, man". Quill takes his arm from Peter's neck, moving away.

"You’re the ones Thor told us about!" The woman speaks again, making Tony look at Quill.

"You know Thor?"

"Yeah. Tall guy, not that good-looking, needed saving”. Peter looks at Quill with a confused expression.

"Where is he now?" Strange asks.

"He went to a planet called Nidavellir, with two of our teammates". Quill speaks, approaching Tony and Stephen. "We split up, we went to Knowhere to retrieve the Reality Stone, but by the time we got there, Thanos had already taken it, well, the Reality one and two more".

"Excellent". Tony says quickly, starting to get out of the ship's rubble. "And who are you?"

"We are the Guardians". The woman speaks quickly, the other partner had helped her with Peter's webs, and soon everyone was outside.

"I am Quill, Star Lord, this is Mantis and Drax". Tony nods, Peter was beside him, and Strange was analyzing things. "We are a team, the Guardians of the Galaxy, Thanos took Gamora, and Rocket and Groot are with Thor."

"Tony, Peter and Strange". Tony speaks quickly, pointing to each one. Quill starts to fiddle with a device, and soon starts talking again.

"The heck happened to this planet?" Everyone was watching him. “It’s eight degrees off its axis. Gravitational pull is all over the place”.

"Yeah, we got one advantage." Tony approaches Quill, leaving Peter to watch Mantis, who randomly jumped where she was. "He’s coming to us". Tony turns to the others. “We’ll use it. Alright, I have a plan. Or at least the begginnings of one”. Quill turns to him. "It's pretty simple. We draw him in, pin him down, get what we need. Definitely don’t wanna dance with this guy. We just want the gauntlet”. Drax yawns, making Tony turn to him without patience. “Are you yawning? In the middle of this, while I’m breaking it down? Huh? Did you hear what I said?”

"I stopped listening after you said, we need a plan". Tony takes a deep breath, it seemed that the three were seven times more difficult than his daughter.

"Okay, Mr. Clean is on his own page". Tony turns to Quill.

“See, ‘not winging it’ isn’t really what they do”. Quill informs Tony and Peter.

"Uh, what exactly is it that they do?" Parker asks, looking at Quill.

"Kick names, take ass". Mantis replies.

"Yeah, that's right". Drax agrees, making Tony roll his eyes in silence, thinking about what they have in hand.

"Alright, just get over here, please". Quill looks at Tony confused. "Mr. Lord, can you get your folks to circle up?"

"‘Mr. Lord’. Star Lord is fine”. With a quick nod, Drax and Mantis join the three at the circle.

"We gotta coalesce". Tony crosses his arms. "‘Cause if all we come at him with is a plucky attitude…”

"Dude, don't call us plucky". Quill speaks, rolling his eyes. “We don't know what it means. Alright, we’re optimistic, yes. I liked your plan. Except it sucks, so let me do the plan, and that way it might be really good”.

“Tell him about the dance-off to save the universe”. Drax says, making Tony take a deep breath, where had they gone?

"What dance-off?" Tony asks.

"It’s not a… It’s not… It’s nothing". Quill responds quickly.

"Like the Footloose, the movie?" Peter asks, making Quill smile.

"Exactly like Footloose". Parker looks at him confused. "Is it still the greatest movie in history?"

"It never was". Peter responds quickly, getting quiet again.

"Don’t encourage this, alright?" Tony tells Peter, who quickly agrees. "We’re getting no help from Flash Gordon here". Tony approaches Peter, standing beside him.

“Flash Gordon? By the way, that’s a compliment". The two turn to Quill, who was approaching them. "Don't forget, I'm half human. So that 50% of me that’s stupid..." Tony nods. "That’s 100% you".

"Your math is blowing my mind". Tony comments, turning his gaze to the floor.

"Excuse me, but…" Mantis says softly, making everyone look at her, and consequently at Strange. "Does your friend often do that?" Tony looks nervously in his direction, the man was doing something with the Time Stone, but it didn't seem to be doing him any good, his head was moving all over the place and the man was floating, definitely not normal.

"Strange, we alright?" He didn't seem to hear, so Tony approached slowly, and soon the man woke up from what he was doing, falling to the ground, Tony holding the same, who was breathing quickly. "You’re back". The others approached the two with concerned looks. "You’re alright".

"Hey, what was that?" Peter asks nervously.

"I went forward in time to view alternative futures." Strange was speaking with difficulty, still trying to breathe properly. "To see all the possible outcomes of the coming conflict".

"How many did you see?" Quill asks.

"14,000,605".

"How many did we win?" Tony asks worriedly.

"One".

 ☼

           When the Quinjet landed in Wakanda, Elisabeth didn’t know what to expect. Steve and Natasha left first, and it was possible to see that the new king of Wakanda was already there and accompanied by some of his soldiers. She never imagined that she would visit Wakanda, and if she ever did, it would be under better circumstances. Lisa was walking beside Rhodes and Banner, and she could hear when the scientist asked if they should bow, she could practically hear the smile when Rhodey said they should, because T’Challa was a king.

 "Seems like I'm always thanking you for something." Steve speaks looking at the king, who just smiles, shaking his hand, is when Bruce starts to kneel, earning him a disapproving look.

"What are you doing?" Elisabeth whispers as she joins Rhodes, who keeps a smile on his face.

"Uh, we don't do that here”. Bruce gives an embarrassed smile, exchanging looks with his partner beside him. "So how big of an assault can we expect?" T’Challa speaks, starting to walk with the other Wakandians, being followed by the team.

"Uh, sir, I think you can expect quite a big assault". Banner speaks, approaching Rogers, who just looks at him with a weak smile, Bruce was gone for two years, but it seemed that he had never lived on Earth, lost all customs from there.

"How we looking?" Natasha asks, looking at the girl who was in the middle of Steve and her.

"You will have my Kingsguard, the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and..." Elisabeth's eyes followed Wanda and Vision being guided by two guards, but she soon gained something new to look at, coming towards the group, James Barnes approached with a smile.

"A semi-stable, 100-year-old man". Steve smiles widely, hugging his friend.

"How you been, Bucky?"

"Uh, not bad, for the end of the world". Bucky responds, and then T’Challa guides them to where Vision had been taken for analysis, that’s where the team met Shuri, the king’s sister. Bruce and Elisabeth offered to help her, since Bruce had helped with the creation of Vision, and Elisabeth read just about everything her father had about him, and the knowledge needed to be able to help. Banner was impressed with how smart the girl got with each passing day, he couldn't wait any less, the girl was a Stark.

"Whoa, the structure is polymorphic". Shuri says after evaluating the structure of the Stone.

"Right, we had to attach each neuron non-sequentially". Bruce informs, receiving a curious look from Shuri.

"Why didn't you just reprogram the synapses to work collectively?" Vision looks at Bruce curiously, Banner just looks at her without knowing what to say and takes a deep breath.

"Because… We didn’t think of it"

"I’m sure you did your best". Shuri says with a huge smile on his face, eliciting a weak laugh from Elisabeth.

"Can you do it?" Wanda asks.

"Yes, but there are more than two trillion neurons here”. Shuri stares at the three near the table, looking back at Vision. "One misalignment could cause a cascade of circuit failures". She looks back at the king. "It will take time, brother".

"How long?" Steve asks, they didn't know how much time they would have for this to work, they didn't know how long they would have before Thanos attacked again, they needed to do it right.

"As long as you can give me". Suddenly, the technology on Okoye's wrist starts to fire, indicating that something was not right around Wakanda.

"Something’s entered the atmosphere." Elisabeth joins the others, approaching the window of the room, seeing what had entered, several ships falling around the land of Wakanda, they didn’t have much time.

"It's too late". Vision speaks, having difficulty sitting. "We need to destroy the stone now".

"Vision, get your ass back to the table". Natasha speaks, leaving the room.

"We will hold them off". T'Challa speaks, starting to walk around the room, being followed by the guards, Steve turns his gaze to Wanda, taking a deep breath.

"Wanda, as soon as that stone’s out of his head... You blow it to hell".

"I will".

“Evacuate the city. Engage all defenses procedures”. The king turns to Steve. "And get this man a shield." Everyone started to leave the room, except for the one who would be responsible for the stone, Stark and Banner.

"Your green friend isn’t going to join the battle, is he?" Banner shakes his head. "Maybe he doesn't have to..." Bruce looks at her confused, and Lisa instructs him to follow her. Elisabeth quickly informs her what she needed to do for the king, and it gives her enough space to call for the armor she needed.

 The Veronica suit was worn when the Hulk lost control during one of Ultron's attacks, and it was time for her to be used again. Elisabeth quickly accessed the satellites, and waited for the King of Wakanda's cue, where he would allow a piece of the dome to open up for the armor to pass, and it would be in this way that Bruce Banner would join the battle, not with the Hulk, but with a Hulkbuster.

☼

 "Oh, yeah". Strange says when he sees Thanos leaving the portal created by the Space Stone, the plan was set, ambush Thanos and take his gauntlet out, and Strange would follow the plan, making the enemy think that only he would face him. "You’re much more of a Thanos."

"I take it the Maw is dead". Thanos replies, noting that his partner wasn’t there with the stone, but rather, the stone keeper himself, who just nods. "This day extracts a heavy toll. Still, he accomplished his mission". Thanos starts to approach the stairs that Strange was sitting on.

"You may regret that". Stephen warns. “He brought you face-to-face with the Master of Mystic Arts”.

"And where do you think he brought you?" Thanos continues to approach.

"Let me guess. Your home?" Thanos stops at the beginning of the stairs.

"It was". With a quick movement, his hand closes, and the Reality Gem begins to shine, and soon all around him is transformed, showing what that planet once was. “And it was beautiful. Titan was like most planets. Too many mouths, and not enough food to go around. And when we faced extinction, I offered a solution”.

"Genocide". Strange completes, watching Thanos' expressions.

“But at random, dispassionate, fair to rich and poor alike”. Thanos turns his gaze to Doctor Strange. “They called me a madman. And what I predicted came to pass”. He stops using the Reality Stone, showing the destroyed planet.

"Congratulations. You’re a prophet".

"I’m a survivor".

"Who wants to murder trillions".

"With all six stones, I could simply snap my fingers…" With his free hand, Thanos snaps his fingers, demonstrating how easy it would be. “And they would all cease to exist. I call that mercy”.

"And then what?" Strange gets up, starting to approach.

"I finally rest..." Thanos takes a deep breath. “And watch the sun rise on a grateful universe. The hardest choices require strongest wills”.

"I think you’ll find our will equal to yours." Strange moves his hands quickly, summoning his Mandalas, preparing for the fight.

"Ours?" Thanos looks up, seeing the piece of stone that was coming at high speed towards him, with a quick movement, he closes the hand of the gauntlet, using the Power Stone to defend himself.

"Piece of cake, Quill". Tony speaks, dropping the stone and passing the Starlord, who just rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, if your goal was to piss him off."

 Quill activates his helmet, starting to fly. Thanos soon breaks the stone dropped on himself, and the team could see when the purple stone on the gauntlet stopped glowing and the red one took over, causing the stone's debris to turn into bats and attack Stark. Peter throws a web under Thanos eyes, and quickly kicks him, while Drax stabs one of his legs, and soon starts attacking his upper part, followed by Strange, who emerged from a portal.

With difficulty, Thanos throws Drax away, holding the sword created by Strange. He finally takes the web out of his eyes, staring at Strange, in a quick stroke, he breaks the spell of the sword, and kicks Strange away, which resists the blow, and already does another spell to fight back. An attack from behind made by Quill, hits Thanos back, who tries to fight back, but fails because Star Lord and Doctor Strange coordinate an attack together, which results in Quill depositing a shock bomb on Thanos back, which disoriented by the shock suffered. Strange quickly opens a portal and Quill leaps out of it.

 "Do not let him close his fist". Strange orders to his cloak, which quickly grips the hand with the gauntlet, leaving Thanos trying to get it out of his fist.

"Magic!" A new portal opens behind Thanos, and Peter passes him by punching him in the face, and then entering another portal. "More magic!” Again, and Thanos seemed to be paying attention to the coordinated attack. "Magic with a kick!" Peter yells through another portal. "Magic with a--" Thanos let himself be hit one last time, and when the portal opened again, he grabbed Peter by the neck, hitting the boy on the floor.

"Insect!”

 With a quick move, he throws Peter against Strange, knocking them both down, and that's when he finally rips the cloak off his wrist, only to be met with an Iron Man missile attack. Thanos closes his hand, using the Space and Power Stones, to suck the energy from the explosions and turn them against Tony, who is hit and thrown away. Peter hits the gauntlet with a web, pulling his fist down, Thanos soon breaks the web, tearing what is left of the gauntlet, without being able to attack back, a small ship is thrown against Thanos, revealing a new fighter.

 "Well, well". Thanos lets go, staring at the woman he knew very well.

"You should have killed me!"

"It would’ve been a waste of parts!" The woman follows a series of attacks, which didn’t appear to affect Thanos.

"Where's Gamora?!"

 With a kick, Thanos tosses it away, being met by another attack by Strange, several magical threads trying to pull the gauntlet, something Thanos tried to loosen with his other hand, but was kicked in the leg by Drax, even so, he reacted to that, and started pulling the magic threads, pulling Strange close. Quill used a device to pull Thanos hand, making him unable to pull anymore, while Peter held him with one of his webs.

Tony takes the place of the wires, and begins to pull the gauntlet, under Thanos head, Strange opens a portal, through which Mantis passes and sits with his legs around Thanos neck, quickly placing his hands on his head. From there, everyone collaborated to hold Thanos. Mantis held him still, controlling his mind, while Drax held his legs, Peter and Strange his other hand and Tony was still trying to pull the gauntlet off.

 "Is he under? Don’t let up" Tony says, analyzing the situation.

"Be quick. He is very strong". Mantis informs with difficulty, Tony takes a deep breath, looking at Peter.

“Parker, help! Get over here". Peter quickly runs to his side, holding the gauntlet. “She can't hold him much longer. Let's go!" The two begin to pull, while Quill lands in front of everyone.

"You need to open your fingers to take it out." Peter speaks by pulling hard on the gauntlet.

"I thought you’d be harder to catch." Quill looks at Stark. “For the record, this is my plan”. Quill looks back at Thanos, approaching. “Not so strong now, huh? Where's Gamora?”

"My Gamora…?" Thanos speaks with difficulty, as if he is in pain.

"No, bull-shit". Quill speaks quickly, facing the other angrily. "Where is she?"

"He is in anguish." Mantis informs.

"Good". Quill speaks, facing Thanos, but Mantis' expression changes.

"He… He mourns”.

"What does this monster have to mourn?" Drax asks.

"Gamora". The woman who had joined the fight later says, she was standing behind Quill, and looking at Thanos angrily.

"What?" Quill turns to the woman, taking a deep breath.

"He took her to Vormir”. The woman speaks slowly. "He came back with the Soul Stone, but she didn't."

"Okay, Quill..." Tony retracts his helmet, looking directly at the man, everyone there seems to understand, and all they didn't need was to miss this opportunity. “You gotta cool it right now, you understand?" Quill seems to ignore the same, turning his gaze to Thanos. "Don’t, don’t engage, we’ve almost got this off!” Tony screams, seeing that it would be useless to keep trying to talk, then pull the handle back with all the strength he has.

"TELL ME SHE’S LYING!" Quill screams. “Asshole! Tell me you didn't do that!”

"I… had… to". Thanos speaks with difficulty, making Quill take a deep breath.

"No, you didn't." Quill speaks slowly. "No, you didn't." He repeats again, before placing a punch in Thanos's face, moving the structure they had set up to hold him. "NO, YOU DIDN'T!" He punches one more, feeling the anger seep through his body, and before he can deliver more, Tony takes his hand, holding him back.

"QUILL!" His helmet comes back, and he looks at Quill, holding the man. “Hey, stop! STOP!"

“It's coming! I got it!" Peter announces, but before he can take it out, Thanos awakens, headbutting Mantis, and pulling the gauntlet back on quickly, he holds one of Mantis' legs and throws it away. "Oh, God..." Before jumping quickly and holding her against his body, using the mechanical arms to fall to the floor without getting hurt.

 Thanos kicks Drax forward, hitting Quill and the woman. He pulls the wire that Strange was holding, throwing it away too, Tony tries to attack him, but Thanos retaliates with a punch, pushing him away. Quill, Drax and the woman start to get up and run, but using the Power Stone, Thanos knocks them down again. Tony molds one of his armor's arms into a giant sword, and tries to attack again, which doesn't seem to affect the man, who just defends himself and throws Tony away again.

From where Tony lands, he could see Thanos wearing another of the Stones, to pull a moon from the sky, he tries to fly when he sees the huge stone approaching, but he cannot escape and ends up trapped under it. The other pieces of the moon still fell under Titan, and Peter swung from web to web saving the companions from the remnants of the moon, with the impact of the larger stone, all who were temporarily fallen flew away.

 "I got you, and you!" Peter tried to remain calm, he knew the plan had gone wrong, and he feared what would happen next, but he tried to remain calm, he needed to make sure that everyone was well and safe from the rest of Thanos's attack. "Sorry I can’t remember anybody's name!"

 While Peter was sure he had saved everyone and placed them close to where he had left Mantis, he could see Strange fighting Thanos, all of Doctor Strange's movements were precisely calculated, and Thanos didn't seem to be affected by any of that, just dodged and remained trying to attack. Peter continued to follow their struggle and saw Strange perform a doubling spell. Thanos didn't seem to be affected, he just wore a combination of Jewels and found the real one, eliminating the copies, using the stones again he pulled Strange close to him, holding his neck.

 "You’re full of tricks, wizard." Peter sees Thanos pulling Strange's eye necklace, seeing him despair. "Yet you never once used greatest weapon”. Peter approached, watching Thanos crush the necklace. "A fake". Thanos tosses Strange away, and Parker was about to act when he saw a part of Tony's armor cling to the gauntlet's hand, preventing him from closing his hand again.

"You throw another moon at me..." Tony says after landing near Thanos. "And I'm going to lose it."

"Stark".

"You know me?" Tony asks nervously, the man in front of him was his nightmare for years, and he was finally face-to-face with him.

"I do". Thanos says calm. "You’re not the only one cursed with knowledge".

"My only curse is you."

 Peter sees Tony resume the attack, and although it started well, it didn’t end gloriously for Tony. He managed to fight back in the best way he could, and even managed to make a bleeding wound on Thanos, something that the man mocked Tony for having managed to do, the fight continued, and it was Thanos's turn to fight back, which ended up with Stark being stabbed with a piece of his own armor.

 "You have my respect, Stark". Thanos says, holding Tony's head, who held the spot where the armor was tucked. "When I'm done, half of humanity will still be alive." Thanos releases his head, moving away. "I hope they remember you." Without saying anything else, Thanos closes his hand, ready to use the four Jewels.

"Stop!" Strange speaks, drawing Thanos's attention. "Spare his life..." Tony turns his gaze to Stephen, not believing what he heard. "And I will give you the stone."

"No tricks". Stephen nods in agreement, and Thanos changes the target of the stones, ready to end Strange if he were lying.

"Don’t". Tony speaks with difficulty, something that Strange ignores, since he reveals the stone with his hands and hands it to Thanos, seeing the same quickly put it on the gauntlet.

"Only one to go". Quill last tried to attack Thanos, but he creates a portal with the Space Stone and disappears from there. Leaving everyone there, aimlessly.

"Did we lose?" Quill asks, taking a deep breath, Tony uses a last resort of the armor, to stop the blood from his abdomen.

"Why would you do that?" Tony asks, staring at Strange.

"We’re in the Endgame now."

 ☼

           Things weren’t going well, not even far. Elisabeth fought with everything she had, she had already fallen and stood up several times, and that didn't seem to be enough for her. She saw when Thor and two other partners joined the battle, and she saw when Wanda started to fight too, she saw Vision being attacked and heard Banner's call about Vision. She flew as fast as she could, and saw Bruce pull the largest of the ‘Children of Thanos' away from the Vision, leaving the other, she tried to defend Vision, fought the alien, and was thrown away after delivering a few blows, the alien didn't seem affected and just attacked Vision once again.

 "I thought you were formidable, machine". Elisabeth gets up, checking the damage to the armor, there were many, but she couldn't think about it now. "But you’re dying, like any man". She ran towards the alien, pushing him away from Vision, who just stayed on the ground, trying to recover from another blow, so she saw Steve running towards her, making a coordinated attack with her.

"GET OUTTTA HERE!" Steve yells towards the Vision, who just looks at him taking a deep breath. "GO!"

 The attack of the two continued, until the alien threw Steve away, and Elisabeth was left alone to fight, which didn’t end very well, since he hit a part of her leg, causing her to fall, and the alien grab her neck with his hand. Steve tried to focus his eyes on her, and help Elisabeth, but it wasn’t necessary when he saw Vision with the enemy's spear attack the alien, taking him off Lisa and finally killing him. Vision was weak, so as soon as the attack ended, he fell to his knees next to Elisabeth, who was trying to recover her breath, Steve ran close to the two, helping Vision to get up.

 "I thought I told you to go." Steve says looking at him, that he just smiles weakly and replies.

"We don't trade lives, Captain." Elisabeth remained with Vision until Wanda arrived, when the woman ran close to him, Lisa got up and went towards Steve.

"How are things going for the others?" She asks worriedly, her helmet retracts with the rest of the suit and Steve can see her tired face, her blond hair was stuck in a bun made at the last minute, and her face had several bleeding bruises, he couldn't even imagine how the rest of her body was, it was not the place he wanted her to be, and he couldn’t think how much Tony wouldn't want her to be there too.

"Everyone is holding on as they can." Elisabeth nods, taking a deep breath. "Are you okay?" Before she could respond, Vision let out an agonized cry of pain, causing the two to turn to Wanda and Vision.

"What?" Wanda asks. "What is it?"

"He’s here". Stark turns his gaze to Steve, putting her suit back on and standing next to him, Rogers puts his hand on the communicator to his ear and starts talking.

"Everyone, on my position". If what Vision said was right, Thanos had finally arrived, and none of them were in any shape to face him alone. "We have incoming". Everyone approached quickly, and watched the blue-colored portal open, and a large man emerged from it.

"Cap". Bruce says softly. "That’s him".

"Eyes up." Captain pulls his shield, starting to walk towards Thanos. "Stay sharp".

 Elisabeth saw when Bruce tried to attack him, and all Thanos had to do was use one of the stones and pin the man into a wall. She saw him use another stone to send Steve away, she saw him take down T’Challa and she saw him turn Sam’s wings into nothing. She tried to attack him too, but like the others, she couldn't even get close, her body was tired, and she had bruises over most of her body, her heart was pounding, and she felt like everyone had failed.

All that was left of everyone there was to see Wanda fight. Watching her kill the love of her life and at the same time preventing Thanos from getting close, she fought, and fought and in the end, the Mind Stone was destroyed, as was Vision, who was now dead. Elisabeth tried to get up, like the others, Thanos approached Wanda and the corpse of Vision, and started talking to the woman.

 "I understand, my child". Wanda looked at Vision, she cried, and she didn't have the strength to fight him again. "Better than anyone".

"You could never." From where Elisabeth was, she could see Thanos put his hand on Wanda's head, and take a deep breath.

"Today, I lost more than you can know". He gets up looking at the Vision. "But now is no time to mourn". He starts to get closer. "Now, is no time at all." Unable to react, Thanos uses one of the stones, and as if by magic, Vision who had died within seconds, was alive now.

"NO!"

 Wanda tries to attack him, but he just throws her away, pulling Vision by the neck, he pulls the jewel off his head, and throws it to the side as if it is nothing. And finally, he has the last stone, Elisabeth looks desperately towards Steve, who seemed mesmerized by what had just happened, thunder strikes Thanos, and Thor announces his arrival to the titan, throwing his axe in his direction, hitting his chest. Thor approaches, holding his head.

 "I told you..." He holds the ax head. "You’d die for that!" With that Thor squeezes the axe across his chest, making Thanos scream.

"You should have..." Thanos starts with difficulty. "You should have gone for the head." Thor looked at him confused, but soon realized what he meant, quickly Thanos snapped his fingers with the gauntlet, making Thor scream. The stones shone brightly, and when Thor finally saw it, the gauntlet was destroyed, burned, as was Thanos's arm.

"What’d you do?" Thor asks, looking at Thanos. "WHAT’D YOU DO?" Without saying anything else, Thanos uses the stones as a way to escape Thor’s grip.

"Where’d he go?" Steve asks approaching Thor. "Thor?" Steve catches your eye. "Where’d he go?"

"Steve?" Rogers quickly turns to the source of the voice, Bucky approached him, but something was wrong, his body were disappearing, as if he were disintegrating, his legs disappeared causing him to fall to the ground, but before his body hit the ground, he had turned to dust, gone. Steve approaches, playing in the same place where Bucky disappeared, he exchanges glances with Thor, who seemed shaken and without understanding.

 Soon, many around Wakanda started to disappear. Warriors who fought against Thanos's army had the same fate as Bucky, Thanos got what he wanted, it was happening all over the world, half of humanity erased. Steve took a deep breath, and watched one by one, his partners disappear, T’Challa disappeared right after, the tree that came with Thor, Groot, Wanda, Sam, and finally, the girl he considered as a daughter, Elisabeth.

She felt nothing, it seemed that her body was no longer in her control. She remembers looking at Steve with a weak smile, before feeling her legs gone and fall to the ground, Steve ran towards him, being followed by Thor, he hugged her, and assured her that things would be fine, that she would be fine. He will never forget her last words, "Tell Dad and Peter that I'm sorry". And as if it were nothing, they were left there, the survivors of Thanos's snap.

 ☼

           On Titan, Peter helped Tony to his feet. They had lost the fight, lost everything, nothing could fix things now, Strange assured them that was the only way to fix things, Tony didn't think so. All Tony thought about was taking Peter home, he wanted to go home, meet Pepper and Elisabeth, have another normal day with them, it was all he wanted, but things were not going as planned.

 "Something's happening." Mantis says, and then, her body begins to disintegrate, the woman disappears, and all that is left of her is ashes, dust. They turned to Drax, and the same thing was happening to him.

"Quill?" Quill turns to Tony, and somehow, Stark knew, it was happening to him too.

"Steady, Quill".

"Aw, man". It was Quill's last words, before the same thing happened to him.

"Tony". Stark turns to Stephen, who is sitting on the floor, and looks at him seriously. "There was no other way". And then the same thing happens to him, Tony takes a deep breath, it couldn't be happening.

"Mr. Stark?" And Tony realized, the fear on Peter's face, realized that it was happening to him too. "I don't feel so good…"

"You’re all right?” Tony says calmly, and Peter quickly approaches him.

"I don’t know what’s-- I don't know what’s happening…” Peter stumbles, and Tony quickly takes him in his arms, Parker was crying, and Tony didn't know what to do. "I don’t wanna go. I don't wanna go, Mr. Stark, please". Peter kept repeating this, and Tony bent down with the boy in his arms, not knowing what to say or do, Tony laid him on the floor, and Peter looked at him. "She was right, I should’ve stayed on the bus..." Tony didn't understand at the time, but he tried to smile, tried to make sure everything was fine, even though in the end, he knew he wasn't. "I'm sorry..." Those were Peter's last words, Tony hoped it would happen to him too, it was the only fair thing to happen, but he didn't disappear, neither he nor the woman, the two survived it, and Tony wished he hadn't.

Add yourself on the tag list

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Protective Service

John Wick x Reader (A/n- Hopefully this chapter isn’t too confusing. Flashbacks in italics)

Masterlist   Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3

Warnings- Mentions of murder/violence, angst

Chapter 4 Beautiful Nightmares

Drenched and breathless, Y/n awoke with a startle, her wide eyes confused by the darkness. It took a moment before she’d realized where she was; in her bedroom at her penthouse, safe and alone. Her chest was dominated by heavy, uneven breaths and the black silk of her simple, lace edged camisole clung to her skin uncomfortably. Even as Y/n tried to settle herself, inhaling deeply through her overly dry mouth, she couldn’t push the flashes from her very vivid dream away;

A couple, swaying in each other’s arms as pale yellow moonlight washes the dark wooden panels constituting the floor of the back porch as soft music wafts from a radio on an end table. The woman’s giggles are soft as her husband leads them in a  slow, casual waltz and not too far off, after she’s been told to not stray near the lake, a young girl no older than six, plays with a plastic fairy wand, entertaining herself. She loves fairies; she wishes they were real but her mother always reminds her that they are, and that she’d the most beautiful one of them all.

It was one of Y/n’s fondest memories of her parents, the last one that had really embedded itself in her memory before the bad. Their love was one that seemed to stand out above rest, though, Y/n supposed that at that age, she couldn’t have known much about romantic love anyways. She hadn’t learned much more about afterwards either, only that it was destructive. That in the end, all it could do was hurt you.

The fire below the rustic, cobblestone mantle laps viciously at the iron barrier separating it from the rest of the sitting room. Not too far off, near the designated holder, one of the pokers lay forgotten. He hasn’t really spoken to anyone in days, not even his seven year old daughter and his eyes have taken on this sort of vacancy that makes its almost frightening to look at him. She’s scared of him, and the only person that would know what to do is gone. Meredith is gone, for good. They took her. It’s been three days since they found her on his birthday, three days since he knew that everything had changed, even if he can’t quite explain it to their daughter. Three days since she’s been asking for her mommy and three days since she’d gone from adoring him to fearing the shell of what he used to be.

The dream, it had taken a nightmarish turn and at some point, Y/n wasn’t watching her parents dance in the backyard while she chased fire files, instead, she was standing in the doorway of the sitting room, watching her father stare that the fireplace, wondering how the bravest man she knew could seem so lost. She hadn’t understood then, and she wouldn’t, not until the funeral, where a large service had taken place at a mortuary and the police had showed up, poking and prodding until someone, Donavan’s father, who had a long standing connection with the commissioner’s office, had stepped in and scared them off. That was probably the day he’d really changed, her father. After that evening he’d gone from broken to cold and ruthless. No one stood in his way because they were simply afraid to, and without his wife as a buffer, things had changed in his organization quickly. Trust could no longer be borrowed, it was earned and traitors were appropriately dealt with. If he couldn’t bring back his wife, then he’d definitely vent his frustrations where he could.

After Meredith passed, Y/n had clung to her father, even if he’d never been the same. He’d cut out most of his affectionate traits and though they were close, most of his time was spent molding her into someone unshakeable. Someone who wouldn’t ever have to feel the way he did. It was working too, by her teens, Y/n had developed into a stolid adolescent, able to suppress whatever she was feeling so she could one day grow into the woman he’d be proud of. The woman he’d never meet.

Money, it makes everything easier. People like you better, you can shop wherever you want and know one bats a lash when you do something you shouldn’t have. Or maybe, just maybe, that last thing isn’t a consequence of money. Maybe it’s fear. It doesn’t matter though, she’s used to that too, the look of fear in people’s eyes when she walks into a room. Even her father’s muscle sometimes squirm around her, there’s no telling what she’ll do or say, she’s just so…...vulturine. Face of an angel with the prowl of a predator. But even predators have bad days, terrible days, the one that becomes their worst day. 

Hers came after one of the most mundane afternoons of her life; she’d gone to a little pastry shop in the city with the son of one of her father’s affiliates. He’s a nice boy, just a couple years her senior and while letting people in is hard, Jack understands the life. Y/n’s dad likes him too. Her dad. “Daddy?” She calls out, pushing one half of the front double door closed behind her as she steps inside, the heel of her booth thudding quietly on the hardwood. It’s eerily quiet in the manor and in the air hangs a metallic smell that she knows all too well. The combination of gunpowder and blood. Usually, it's the smell she associates with her father and the business he’s training her to take over, but that evening, there’s a distinct portentousness that mingles with it. It’s too quiet, too cold, as if someone forgot to turn up the heat to combat the temperate fall evenings. 

“Daddy?” she calls again, only to gasp upon entering his home office. The white rug dominating the room is saturated with warm red and some of it’s even seeped out to the hardwood, probably staining it and almost causing Y/n’s to slip as she hurriedly enters. “Daddy,” she emits a choked breath as she sinks to her knees, not caring if the blood soaks the blue denim of her jeans. Immediately, she pulls off her scarf, doing the only thing that seems logical in that moment, pressing it to the gaping gash on his neck, trying to quell the rapid, almost cinematic flow. That’s sort of how it feels too, like Y/n’s been plopped into a movie, because that can’t be real, her father can’t be dying in her arms. “Hold on, okay?” Her mind is going twenty miles a minute and while she knows that there are people that she can call for help, all she can think is that she needs to help him now. 

He tries to speak, though, he’s literally drowning in his own blood, and that’s the first time that Y/n realizes that his wounds are mortal. Not just the slashed throat, but also several stab wounds to the chest. The sounds are sickly and stomach turning, and the sight isn’t much different, but still, she persists, he won’t see her undone. Even if inside, Y/n feels like she’s being ripped apart; torn to shreds by winter breeze. The feeling makes something change inside her, and as she presses the rich cashmere to the split in her father’s neck, Y/n feels the surge of something inhumane shoot up inside. The last shred, the only person she can truly care for has been snatched away, and in that moment, she becomes what he’s wanted her to be for the past thirteen years, made in his image. Utterly ruthless, unashamedly vengeful and undeniably frightening. 

The dream, even after several minutes of sitting up in her California king, stuck with her, and if Y/n shut her eyes, she could still feel the warmth of blood on her hands and hear the sounds that her father made as he struggled to take his last breaths. It had been a while since she’d last had a dream like that, but Y/n would have preferred to attribute the runnings of her subconscious to the events of the past couple weeks; having to clean up the mess of a betrayal but more so her mother’s birthday. With a heavy, deflated sigh, she flopped back, moving messy hair away from her face and dragging her fingers along her scalp. 

The clock on her bedside read as twenty minutes to four and despite the hour, Y/n knew that committing to slumber soon wouldn’t have been possible, so instead, she slunk out of bed, not even bothering with her robe as she slipped her feet into a pair of comfortable, fluffy flip flops before heading towards the door.

It was a soft, hesitant knocking that roused John from his slumber. A heavy sleeper might not have heard it, but his ears were trained, never missing a thing, and he awoke almost immediately. Groggily, he took a moment to blink sleep out of his eyes as he weaned his hand out from under the pillow, where he usually kept a pistol. Registering the time as quarter to four in the morning, John also noted the near darkness of the large room, the only light besides that of the neon green numbers of the digital alarm clock being whatever filtered through the thin, grey curtains; some from apartments in the opposing building, a street lamp and the quarter moon. It was enough to wash the shiny marble floor with a white glow, though not nearly enough to disturb John's sleep.

Again, the knocking on his bedroom door called his attention, and with a soft sigh, John flipped the thick duvet off his legs, planting his feet on the floor and padding barefoot towards the door. "Y/n?" He knitted his brows upon the sight of her; dressed in the suggestive pajama set he'd glimpsed her in earlier, the same one that had brought with it all sorts of crude thoughts as he'd fallen to sleep. 

"Hey," she breathed meekly, tongue darting out to moisten her bare lips as Y/n tucked some hair behind her ears. She seemed so unlike her usual self, a little unsure, and much…...softer, almost harmless even. The pale white light coming from the opposing window illuminated her delicate features with a near bluish, ethereal glow. "I uh," she cleared her throat, standing a bit straighter, "Sorry for waking you."

That was odd, she never apologized. Shaking his head dismissively, John’s hand slid up the edge of the door as he slid against the frame, fleeting sleepiness disturbing his focus. Or maybe it was something else. “It’s okay,” something about the mood felt…...off. John couldn’t describe it really, like the air was swirling with something electric, making everything a little hazy, “What are doing here? It’s late.”

“I know,” Y/n didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands, and John couldn’t help but notice the absence of confidence in her disposition. It was so unlike her to be so unsure of herself and jittery. “It’s just,” she hesitated, mulling on her next words, “I can’t stop thinking about you John,” his name was a breath of her lips and when Y/n finally reached out, her palm hovering over the sleeve of his t-shirt before landing on his bicep. “I know its……..sudden, but it's true, and I can’t take the not knowing anymore. John-”

“Its okay,” he reassured softly, his eyes softening as he stepped forward, reaching out to place a hand on her hip, he raised the other to brush a couple strands away from her face, “I feel the same. There’s just something about you,” he searched her gaze, still cupping her face and his thumb ghosted the apple of Y/n’s cheek, “It just pulls me in. I’ve tried Y/n, but I can’t get you out of my head.”

“Good,” sliding her hand up his shoulder, she embraced the side of his neck with her warm touch, leaning into John as she stood on her toes, “Have you been dreaming about me John?” He could feel her breath fanning his lips and feel the warmth of her skin emanating from her top, “The way I dream about you?” Y/n pecked the corner of his lips, curling her arm around his neck.

“Yes,” he shuddered, feeling her lips travel along his jaw, his crotch twitching appreciatively at their proximity. His arms locked around Y/n’s frame, ensuing she was flush against him and his senses had never felt so awakened, making John acutely aware of how her full breasts were pressed to his chest, and how silken her skin felt when a couple of his fingers evaded the hem of her blouse, gracing the lower part of her spine. “I dream that I’m touching you, feeling you around me. I dream that…..”

“That what?” Y/n reached up to nibble on his earlobe, her free hand journeying between their bodies to grope him through the thick material of his sweats, “What else do you dream about John?”

“That you’re mine,” involuntarily, he bucked into her expert touch, his grip on her tightening possessively, “I want you to be mine,” he growled, a surge of jealousy pluming in his chest at the thought of Y/n being this way with Donavan. 

As one of John’s palms searched her warm skin, eventually reaching up to cradle Y/n’s upper back, she brought her lips over his once again, sharing their longing breaths, “Then make me yours,” Y/n tilted her head, leaning in and almost letting their lips brush, teasing him. “Do it John,” she prompted enticingly, “Make me yours.”

In an instant, he’d crashed his lips to Y/n’s feverishly, holding her in place and humming roughly into her mouth as his only response. Y/n stumbled forward when John stepped back into the room. The way she responded against him was unmatched and for just a second, every bit of guilt he’d harbored because of his growing feelings for her vanished, if only it could stay gone.

“John,” a familiar voice intruded, urgency growing as he ignored it, “John!”

It wasn’t Y/n, it couldn’t be her after all, and when John finally pulled away, he was greeted with the most gut wrenching sight; his Helen, standing in the doorway, hurt tugging at her features. She looked the way she did just before things got bad, before the long hospital stays and the machines. So impossibly beautiful, so incomparably pure and right then, so undeniably wounded. Her eyes, the ones he’d fallen for upon matching them for the very first time, welled up with tears, shining in the low light and her paled features were smeared with the twinge of betrayal. 

“How could you?” She sobbed, just as John untangled himself from Y/n, not noting the way her face changed, focused only one one thing; his wife.

How could he?

“Helen!” John brushed past Y/n, following Helen out into the hall, just as the hem of her white dress fled the corner. But he could hardly run fast enough and before John could reach for her arm, she was gone.

“Helen,” John shot up in his bed, breathing heavily as he lunged forward. Even with his eyes now open, adjusting themselves to being so suddenly opened, he swore he could still see Helen as if she were right there, at the foot of his bed, tears in her eyes as a result of his betrayal. It was exactly what he’d been afraid of; betraying her memory. John couldn’t do that to her, he’d fought for his life just so he could live to remember her, the love they had. The only love he ever had.

Scrubbing his hands over his face and then through his hair, before turning on the lamp at his bedside and pulling open the drawer of his nightstand. What he sought laid at the top, and without hesitation, John brought out a picture and a little card out, holding them each in one hand. Every time he looked at the photograph, the memory would come back like it was yesterday, that day at the beach, when in each other’s arms was the only place either of them wanted to be. They’d known she was sick then too, but times were simpler and treatment had been working well. They had time, time to build a home, plan a life, be in love. 

Before Helen, that day he’d laid eyes on her in that restaurant, John didn’t think his heart had ever beat that fast. For a long time, he lived, fought for his life in the military and then under the mob, but when he met her, John, for the very first time, felt truly alive. And when she died a year and a half prior, part of him did too. Even if the love he had for her would never waver.

A lone tear fell dripped onto the photo and John’s teeth tugged on his lower lip to suppress a sob as he opted to shift his burning gaze to the letter. One of the last things he had to remember her by. Daisy was long gone; stolen by a fool who’d cashed for an untimely death, but John had held on to that letter. The only reason he’d still had it was because he’d had left it in his car, which, thankfully had been in the shop when his house had been destroyed by another dead fool. That card had kept him sane in dark times and had given him a glimmer of hope in quieter moments. 

“....you still need something, someone, to love.”

“........and now that I have found my peace, find yours.”

Loving again didn’t even seem possible, and it didn’t seem right either. And even if the glimmer of affection he felt of Y/n should have given John hope for a better tomorrow, she was tainted, corrupted; there was no peace there. Not for him and certainly not for them together. 

Bringing the picture to his lips, John swallowed tightly as he kissed Helen’s image, desperately wishing that things could have been different. He’d have burned the world down if it would save her life. But it wouldn’t have, and it was taking time, but he was learning to accept that. Returning the keepsakes to their security, John pulled himself out of bed, trudging out towards the kitchen hoping to find some remedy for the dryness in his throat. 

As usual, his steps were silent and hardly noticeable and John was just about to turn off from the corridor and enter when something stopped him in his tracks. At first, he’d thought his ears were betraying him, that perhaps he was still caught in his all too vivid dream, until he poked his head out, confirming the more logical explanation. Much to his surprise, Y/n stood in the kitchen, a wine glass on the counter, near a bottle while she had her back pressed against the large integrated refrigerator, head bent and hands pressed to her face as she elicited muffled sobs. Her frame shook slightly and her breaths were audible and ragged.

The sight was more than peculiar, it was surprising and wildly unexpected, yet still, John yearned to go into the kitchen and encourage her towards his chest and hold her until she was okay. Even if he’d had caught her shedding a tear or two in her bedroom a couple mornings ago, he’d never taken Y/n for the type that cried her eyes out when no one was looking, though he supposed that everyone had their limits, things that broke them down and reduced them to a state where nothing else seemed possible. His was Helen, he wondered if Y/n’s was her mother. 

A loud, hitching breath left John dashing for cover, pressing his back to the wall, and peeking out once again soon after, just in time to see Y/n slide down the silver door onto the floor as untamed sobs grew louder. He ached, physically, to go over to her, but the idea weighed heavy on his mind and knowing Y/n, she probably wasn’t seeking comfort anyway, so instead, John gave her what he thought she’d appreciate more; the solitude that he usually craved when reduced to tears, toeing back down the hall, and hoping that by morning she’d be okay.

******

Tagging-@harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi  @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves  @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea  @jupiterdawngirl

[royalprinceroman]

Finding My Place [Part 1]

Heya there everyone! Today is a super special day! Today is @availe‘s birthday! Maxi is one of my very best friends, one of the most important people to me in the world so I told her to pick two pairings and I would write a fic about them. I wasn’t sure what the topic would be so I just kinda let the words flow!

This is a bullet fic because writing a whole fic is hard right now with my current state in life so I apologize.

This fic includes (in its entirety not just this part): human AU, Anxceitmus (QPR Remus/Virgil and QPR Deceit/Virgil, Demus is romantic in the ship), Logince, swearing, violence mention, angst, depression, suicidal mentions, fainting, general not taking care of yourself moods, drugs, alcohol, and.... all sides are shown in a positive light, if that matters. It’s an AU anyway.

Devyn = Deceit (That’s also important LOL)

With all that said, please enjoy!

---

Devyn knows a lot of things. He considers himself an expert in some fields but still a jack of all trades in certain situations. However, there is one thing he feels he lacks. No matter how much he thinks about it, researches it, and records the process and its results, the outcome is always the same.

"Remus, you can't just hang up those creepy curtains on the front window!" Virgil calls up the stairs. The man in question cackles and Virgil growls back. "Don't expect your villain laugh to get you out of everything. I already got an earful from the lady next door about it disturbing her kids."

"Ahhh they'll get used to it." Remus says as he walks down the stairs to meet Virgil at the bottom. He stays on the second to the last step, making himself nearly a head taller than Virgil. Without warning, Remus wraps his arms around Virgil's neck and squeezes as a big smile appears on his face. "Oh golly gee, I just love you Virgil."

The black haired boy couldn't prevent the smirk that appears on his face as he leans back and kisses Remus on the cheek. "Mhmhm… love to be a pain in my neck is more accurate."

Both of them laugh before turning to see Devyn standing in the doorway to the kitchen across from the stairs, staring at them intently. 

"Do we have something on our face?" Virgil questions before Remus jumps down and runs to Devyn, almost slapping him with his arms instead of wrapping him in a hug.

"No…" Devyn assures. He leans his head against Remus. The smallest boy fits perfectly under Devyn's arm and Virgil walks over slowly, Devyn reaching and grabbing Virgil's right hand. He brings it to his lips, kissing it gently. 

"I want a kiss!" Remus pouts.Devyn obliges, kissing him on his forehead. Remus feels his cheeks burning red as he hides his face in his partner's chest.

"Is something the matter?" Virgil questions.

"No." Devyn says quickly as a blink of panic passes Virgil's eyes. "I just still have yet to fully understand what I've done in this world to deserve this with both of you." His voice trails off at the end as his gaze fell along the house surrounding them. 

Boxes scattered everywhere, some half empty as they unpacked to live in this new beautiful home. One picture was on the mantle above the fireplace: a shot of all three of them in suits: Devyn in yellow, Virgil in a deep purple, and Remus in a forest green, framed in a brown oak frame. Their wedding day only a month prior. 

"Dee…" Remus says softly as he hugs Devyn tightly. 

Devyn feels himself remembering. He tells the two he wants to take a break while they unpack upstairs. The two agree after giving him more hugs. Devyn sits on the couch in the living room.

xxx

Devyn had just been released from prison two years prior. 

He had been wrongfully charged with murder and had his life turned upside down for over ten years.

Upon release, he met Remus at a local gay bar. He hadn't intended on falling in love with the strange man but it just sort of happened. 

Devyn quickly learned Remus was already in a relationship.

Devastated by this, Devyn cut off all contact with Remus and stopped going to that specific bar all together. 

Drinking his sorrows away at a bar closer to his home, Devyn accepts that his life as a 32 year old gay man meant that he was probably doomed to be alone forever. 

Music started playing and he realizes it was live, playing in the next room over.

He peeked in to see a huge crowd surrounding a stage. Neon purple lights lit up the band. A lead singer with a guitar, a bass player, a drummer, and a… violinist? Wait, what?

The music was beautiful and the singing amazing, but Devyn couldn't tear his eyes away from the violinist. 

Such perfect strokes and form, the melody tore right at Devyn's heart. 

The song finished with a dramatic solo from the violinist and Devyn applauded along with the crowd. 

He listened to the voices around him closely, trying to figure out who they were.

"My gosh they're all so amazing! Virgil knocked it out tonight! How does he play the violin so well??"

"Gotta give props to Roman too! He goes through those low notes to high so easily. Is he even human with that range?"

"Nah nah did you listen to that drum solo? My boy Logan is the most talented by far. The technical details in his playing is just… so damn good."

"But Patton's bass solo was good too! He's come a long way in the short time he's been playing."

"Flight of the Hearts is just an amazing band. They're gonna take the world by storm, I just know it!"

Devyn stared at the band and they signed and took photos with fans at the foot of the stage. He wanted to hear more. 

He noticed a merch table just next to them and wondered over. Two self published CDs were on the table “Dreamer” and “Cyclone” and one of just Virgil's violin creations called "Calming Yourself". 

Devyn never purchased anything faster in his life. 

A bell went off above his head once he purchased it all. 

"Major sale! All CDs plus a shirt!" A voice shouted.

Devyn felt himself wish he wasn't where he was.

Until---

The whole band came over behind the table.

"Hey thanks for your support!"

Devyn recognizes him as the lead singer (Roman?) He was built like a jock, a football player to be specific, but had very soft eyes and a gentle smile.

"Dearheart, there's no reason to yell at him. He looks utterly confused. I told you that bell wasn't the best idea…"

The drummer… Logan right? He was smaller than Roman by over a foot at least. Glasses sat on the bridge of his nose (was he wearing those on stage?) and he pushed them up. He had an air of a person who would win on Jeopardy by a mile. Logan had his arm around Roman's waist, pulling him gently back. 

"Thanks for purchasing all of our work! We really appreciate it!"

Another glasses wearer? Oh it's Patton, the bassist. Right, right. He seemed the most genuine and down to earth, at least in this instance. He gestured to take the CDs back.

"Come on everyone let's sign them!" Patton called out to his bandmates.

Roman and Logan returned, holding hands and Roman kissing their entangled fingers.

Devyn wanted what they had, desperately. He felt an emptiness in his heart.

Without realizing it, Devyn had Virgil standing in front of him closer than he would've liked. 

"Can I help you?" Devyn demanded. 

Virgil squinted his eyes and frowned. "What's your name?"

Accusatory voice, mean look… the glare peeking through his long bangs and was that heavy eyeshadow?

"We just wanna sign your stuff! Right… Virgil?"

Patton clearly fell the same unease emanating off of Virgil as Devyn did. The more he stared back at Virgil, the more angry Devyn became. 

"My name is Devyn. What about it?" Harsh tone, spat in anger.

"I knew it. I recognized that scar on your face. How fucking dare you?!" Virgil leaped over the table. "How dare you break my Remus's heart, you bastard?!"

The crowd began chanting. "Fight, fight, fight!" and before he realized it, Devyn was about to punch Virgil before both of them were pulled back. Patton had pulled back Virgil and Devyn realized Roman had grabbed him under his arms with his own.

Security had quickly corralled everyone out of the tiny room, leaving only Devyn with the band. 

Logan stood between the two warring ones. 

"What are you talking about?" Devyn demanded, shaking off Roman, nodding to agree he wouldn't fight. 

"Remus has been so upset since you cut him off. He loved you, you dickhead!" Virgil was basically foaming at the mouth. His eyes were red and filled with tears. "Why? What possessed you to do that to him?" 

Devyn's memory flashed to the last image of Remus he remembered. Smiling brightly at him as he left the bar that night over a month before. Devyn had blocked and deleted his number. Basically ghosted him. 

But…

Remus had been in a relationship, right? Devyn didn't want to force his way in and hurt someone else. 

Devyn looked up to see Patton comforting Virgil in his arms, shhhing him like a small child.

A hand landed on his shoulder. He glanced over.

Roman. 

He had a sad look in his eyes. 

"Allow me to explain, Devyn. I'll start from the beginning. I am Roman, lead singer of "Flight of the Hearts". This is my partner, Logan, our drummer. The one holding our dearest violinist, Virgil, is the wonderful Patton. He is also Virgil's older brother. Virgil's partner is Remus… the man who works at The Half Side of the Full on Center Street. He's also my twin."

Devyn blinked and realized in that moment that Roman was the spitting image of Remus, only taller and a bit more buff. He was also missing Remus's adorable mustache but that was beside the point. 

"I left Remus because he told me about you." Devyn started, glancing at Virgil. "Never mention you by name of course. Just that he had the most amazing boyfriend in the world and I decided I didn't want to break my own heart. So I left him and his perfect life alone. Because who needs a fucked up person like me in his life?!"

Devyn realized he was shouting but he didn't care. He also ignored the tears rolling down his face. His scar around his left eye burning from the salt in his tears. Devyn knew in that moment he'd always be a fuck up somehow. 

"Remus was so important to me. I love him more than anything. Because… he allowed me to forget and move on. I was no longer trapped in my lying, deceitful past. I was able to actually be me."

Devyn turned and shoved past Roman only to stop short of the exit, blocked by a familiar face. 

"Remus…" it barely left Devyn's mouth. 

"I never got to tell you." Remus said. "I was going to tell you I loved you the next day. And I wanted you to meet my boyfriend because we're both poly and you had mentioned in passing you were too. I didn't press it because well… I wasn't sure how much you enjoyed how I am."

Devyn had never seen Remus so calm. It was weird and he didn't like it. He liked his Remus bouncing off the walls, talking about his latest findings on the side of the road; alive or dead. He liked Remus when he tried to make fake blood to put on the windows for Halloween and it ended up being actual animal blood because that's how obsessed Remus was with what he did.

This calm demeanor didn't suit the wacky man at all.

"Like them…? Remus… I adore you. You were so true to yourself in ways I couldn't predict. I love that even though you were pushed away by society for who you are… you didn't let that change you. You refused to live a lie. Something I had done all my life."

Remus crossed the gap between them and in one full motion, pulled Devyn down like a princess, holding him gently in his arms.

"Let me do what I've been holding back for so long." Remus begged.

Devyn nodded and they kissed. It was soft at first, tickling Devyn's upper lip with Remus's rough mustache, before Devyn felt it deepen even further. He didn't want it to stop…

"Geez, brother! Get a room!" Roman blurted which caused the two to pull away.

Devyn licked his lips and Remus did as well, promising more later.

Remus allowed Devyn to stand as they walked back over to the rest of the group. Virgil reintroduced himself and apologized as did Devyn. Remus explained that Virgil is his QPP as Virgil is asexual and quoiromantic. Both were fine having other partners. Devyn joked about the fact that maybe he would fall for Virgil too if Virgil played him the violin more. The group laughed even though Devyn was dead serious.

As it turned out, the band, including Remus, lived together in a rented house just down the street. It wasn't glamorous or anything but enough to keep all of them out of the rain and comfortable.

As they walked in, Virgil asked Devyn about his living conditions and he dodged the question by bringing up food. 

Remus grabbed Devyn's hand and squeezed, asking again.

Devyn admitted to living in a Motel 6. It was all he could afford after being released from jail. His factory job was paying him well now but he had to consider uber fees to get to and from work. The off three days working four was nice too but he had to be careful. He had no savings to fall back on. 

Remus jumped up. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"My past is not something I am proud of." Devyn admitted. "But… it is something I should explain before we get too far into things."

To Be Continued….

[epicstuckyficrecs]

2019 New Writers Fic Rec

After seeing some Discourse on Twitter, I decided to make a fic rec with some of my favorite new writers! All of these writers only started posting Stucky fanfic in 2018 or 2019. So here are some “new” writers and some of my favorite fics from them! (in no particular order)

PS: sorry for not putting the trope, word count and rating as I usually do, I wanted to try and make this fic rec quickly! 

PS2: also sorry if I chopped all your summaries, but some of them are hella long and this post is already... pretty long.

PS3: this went way past “favorite new writers” and just became “great new writers” because I wanted to prove a point, oops. 

verzacefatale 

You be yours and I'll be mine : “Oh, god. We got married, didn’t we?” 

14-Inch Cock and a Few Hundred Bimbos : There are some things in life, Steve muses as he stares down at his crotch, that nothing can prepare you for. His dick suddenly growing six inches in length and another two in girth, just because he opened a box in a Hydra dug out that maybe he should have read the instructions on before he did? How was he to know it was literally magic that would make his cock grow huge?

~

2bestfriends 

Collar Full of Chemistry : AKA a fantasy BDSM romance featuring heavy mutual pining, feelings denial, and enough kink to blackout a bingo card. 

Like Real People Do : AKA the "Lumberjack Steve/Twink Bucky" fic of our hearts.

~

deadonarrival

100,000 Miles And Feeling Very Still : Steve Rogers took a job at NASA and his life is pretty okay. Maybe not great but he has some good friends and things seem to be mostly stable. Except one day their new astronaut recruit walks in and everything in Steve's life goes upside down.

Latte Art and Slow Dancing in the Dark (WIP): Bucky is a somewhat well-adjusted former army sniper that got his shoulder blown out. He took his discharge and went home to finish school and is working on his international relations masters. His best friends and roommates (Nat & Clint) are CIA agents and tip him off that their local Sbux is hiring. He gets a job there and meets none other than the hottest guy on earth.

~

voxofthevoid

(series) couldn't get the boy to kill me (ongoing): Captain America and the Winter Soldier are a terrifying duo on the field, working together with a well-oiled precision that tears through their enemies. Captain Rogers and Agent Barnes are distant coworkers, all polite nods and mission briefings. Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are fire and gasoline; the sparks between them have no choice but to roar into raging infernos.

happily ever after has bite marks in it : In which Bucky is aggressively okay with his self-imposed exile from society, and Steve is a werewolf who’s nothing like the Brooklyn boy Bucky still dreams of.

darling heart, i loved you from the start (but that's no excuse for the state i'm in) : Or, the one where Steve saves the mind stone for last and decides to fuck the timeline beyond all recognition, which regrettably involves crawling delicately up Hydra's asshole and less regrettably involves showering a very confused Bucky Barnes with affection.

(series): i'm guilty of treason (i've abandoned control) : S.H.I.E.L.D Agent Bucky Barnes is captured on a mission and meets Commander Steve Rogers, the erstwhile Captain America.It escalates quickly.

four dreams in a row where you were burned : When Steve uses the last of his Pym Particles to travel to 1944 and save his best friend, he doesn’t have a plan beyond leaving behind the battlefield and living his life alongside the people he loves. But the life that finds him is not the one he expects.

~

deisderium

much tattoo about nothing : Steve Rogers gets a lot of email requests, but never one like this: James Barnes wants to use his healing factor to practice tattoos.

(series) tits out, lads : On the walk back from Azzano, Bucky keeps touching Steve's chest. Then he touches it some more. And more.

Let Them Eat Cake : Bucky wanted to know why their new pastry chef had gun calluses on his right hand.

deep dive : In which single dad Bucky Barnes has a crush on his daughter's dive team coach and thirsts awkwardly. 

thot through the heart (and you're to blame) : In which Bucky is a baby vampire, a disaster, out to have a good time, and hopelessly in love with his roomate; and in which Steve has a few secrets of his own.

Political Animals (WIP) : or—Steve’s best friend is the U.S. Constitution and he can’t seem to stop fucking a hot Republican. They shouldn’t fall in love, but somehow they do.

~

thedoubteriswise

time on my hands (could be time spent with you) : "You doing okay, kid?” Steve releases a breath, deciding how honest he wants to be. No point in lying. No point in telling the truth, either. "Glad to see you.""That’s not what I asked, but same to you, punk."

honey don't feed it, it will come back : He’s stroking the cat’s fur, which is soft and fine now that it’s clean. He looks so open and inviting. Steve doesn’t close his eyes, watching Bucky’s gentle fingers and trying to come up with a plausible excuse to go touch him.

Ill With Want : Bucky pretends to be asleep when Steve crawls into bed, too tired to feel guilty over the quivery pleasure that settles in his belly when Steve’s arm brushes his. He drifts to sleep in a comfortable haze and tries not to wonder where this feeling was two hours ago when he had Marie in his lap.

~

steebadore

Controlled Release : Bucky's just having a little trouble...finishing. Completing the mission. He can squeeze the trigger but he can't make the shot is what he's saying. Which is why he's here, loitering outside a nice brownstone in Park Slope, trying to find the courage to knock on Captain Come Control dot com's door for his three o'clock appointment.

it takes a lot to know a man : Bucky flips to the next page, and the world around him grinds to a halt as his brain struggles to process what he's seeing. The noise of the train fades and static fills the inside of his head as he looks down at the sketches of the metal-armed guy without the mask. It's—that's him. It's Bucky's own goddamn face staring back at him from this stranger's sketchbook.

~

AidaRonan

Quench : Or the one where archeology intern Bucky Barnes meets actual archeologist Steve Rogers and reaches levels of thirst scientists once believed to be theoretically impossible.

Carnal Synchronicity : AKA A Tale of Two Stevies

Fraternizing With the Enemy : Steve and Bucky are both the presidents of their respective fraternities. Steve thinks Bucky's frat is filled with selfish party animals who care about little else. Bucky thinks Steve is a giant pretentious douchebag who owns too many Lacoste polos. They hate each other. Passionately.

~

lockedlocke

I just need you to show me : A quick google search tells him that the app he needs to get for something quick and easy, with no strings attached is Grindr. He downloads the app while he watches a bit of a Simpsons episode. It doesn’t take long, and when the app is downloaded, he looks at black icon with the yellow mask.

Pride : So here he was, at Pride despite the fact that he’d rather be at home. It’s hot, boiling and his feet hurt a bit from standing all day. Converse might be nice shoes, but Jesus they were terrible for his knees.

~

mcwho

it never hurt nobody : “I thought we agreed that that was creepy.” “No,��� Bucky says slowly. “I asked you what you thought about people calling their boyfriends daddy, and you said you thought it was creepy, and then I asked you what the hell you’d done with my grey sweater after you did laundry, and we never talked about it again.”

(series) the serum amplifies : Little PWPs about Steve and Bucky’s sex life and the serums effect on it.

~

missandrogyny

don't know where i'm going (but i'll get back to you and me) : AU where Bucky is an assassin who just can’t seem to kill Steve

~

LeeHan

The Right Partner : Steve meets a beautiful man with a bright laugh on a sunny day in Italy. Captain America meets the elusive Winter Soldier moments later.

The Best Way to Wake : James Buchanan Barnes lay in a glass pod in the middle of the table, frozen since he fell. Steve’s hands were on the glass before he realized he’d moved. “Get him out,” Steve whispered, his hands searching for a clasp, a keypad, something.

~

amethystkrystal

Taking This One Step At A Time : In the weeks that follow, Bucky's omega urges start going haywire, and he realizes that night with Steve may have left him with more than just a fond memory.

Realignment : After assembling their own Infinity Gauntlet, the Avengers defeated Thanos and brought back everyone who disappeared. But their victory came at a great cost: in order to take the Soul Stone, Steve had to sacrifice the Captain America mantle and all the super-soldier strength that came with it.

~

cydonic

Home Is Wherever I'm With You : This is what happens when you buy a house to flip having only seen the online images: you get more than you bargained for. Bucky Barnes brings all the tools to handle a dilapidated home, but he's hardly prepared for a smart-mouthed child (with poor aim), a crying baby, and the hottest dad he's ever seen in his life living right next door.

~

deadto27

The Sweetest Spark : Steve Rogers runs a successful business. He has great friends and a great life. It seems like he has it all. So why is he sitting in a diner on a Friday night alone? Maybe he's just a little lonely. Maybe Bucky Barnes can help with that.

Maybe This Christmas : Bucky’s not going home for Christmas. But it’s fine. He’s spending Christmas alone in his apartment, but it’s cool. He’s not feeling up to seeing his family after his accident anyway, plus he has to work. He’s totally fine with it. But then he runs into Steve, literally, and suddenly his Christmas isn’t looking so empty after all.

~

NachoDiablo

Reconcilable Differences : AKA, "What To Do When Your Zany Fake-Relationship Scheme Actually Works."

~

odetteandodile

If Only In My Dreams : Bucky is a highly successful cooking and lifestyle blogger. He writes all about life in his Connecticut home with his D.H. (darling husband). Only problem? It’s all complete fiction.

So I Took a Faithful Leap : Bucky doesn’t fall and Steve doesn’t crash. The Howling Commados take out the remaining Hydra bases…and then they go home, just like all the other allied soldiers. Steve buys a farm in Washington state, and tries to relearn how to be at peace.

Art Thief, Heart Thief : Agent Steve Rogers is facing a series of art thefts that has him stumped, and looking for a break in the case. Convicted art thief and general high end criminal Bucky Barnes wants to make parole and happens to know all of the right people who could make Steve's job easier.

Under the Hawthorn Tree : A young man wanders into the woods one night, and wanders until he isn't a young man anymore—but something else. Seventy years later, another man follows him. Inside of a magic ring, they meet.

~

canistakahari

don't threaten me with a good time : Steve's taken him on vacation to a cabin in Canada in the middle of winter, so it's obviously the perfect time for his body to go haywire. Bucky is determined to stick it out, though, partly because he's a stubborn bastard, but mostly because he feels some kinda way about Steve.

Heckin' Chunker for Love : On the inside of the big floor to ceiling window of the office across the street, someone has used Post-it Notes to spell out a message: W H A T I S Y O U R C A T ’ S N A M E ?

(TBR) All of Your Love is Sunlight : Sometimes the path to happiness involves bad timing turned good, a butt plant, and a little everyday magic. For Steve and Bucky, it's all that and more.

~

birdjay

(TBR) STAR PLAN : He’s the most gorgeous thing Bucky’s ever laid eyes on.He’s his new tentative boss. Maybe. If this interview goes well enough, anyway. “So, Mr. Barnes?” Steve asks, blinking at him from across a particle board table. “You ever work security before?”

stay : The platform buzzes, and suddenly goes quiet. The cycle has finished. Bucky doesn’t bother to look. There’s no way Steve’s coming back when he has the chance to stay. He moves to walk away, to move on with his life, somehow. “Buck -- ?”

(TBR) The Conservation of a 17th Century Painting : Steve can’t even remember the last time he’s spoken to someone actually interested in art, who coincidentally is also someone he’d like to bang. Actually, no. He’s never had that happen.

~

dragongirlG

Searching Every Lonely Place : After the Battle of New York in 2012, Steve searches for Bucky with the help of the Avengers as he bumbles through a series of comedic misunderstandings with undercover HYDRA agents.

Reclamation : The Winter Soldier’s mask never falls off when he fights Captain America on the overpass and the helicarrier. That doesn’t stop the Soldier from recognizing Captain America and wondering why the man’s face is haunting his scattered memories.

~

megs_bee

Nothing Good Ever Happens On A Tuesday : Recently discharged soldier James Barnes is back in Brooklyn, down an arm and missing five years of memories, but he’s got his PTSD mostly under control, a fancy metal prosthetic, and what’s starting to feel like it could be a half-decent life. What he doesn’t have is any memory of the kid looking at James and asking him, “Are you my daddy?” -- or the gorgeous blond guy standing next to her.

A Ghost Before You Were a Ghost Story : “I’m sorry to wake you, Sir, but there appears to be an intruder on the roof. ”Tony finds the camera showing a figure standing alone on the roof, black tactical gear blending into the black night sky. Barely a shadow among shadows, save for the glint of silver along the figure’s left side. The Winter Soldier.

~

VenusMonstrosa

Extant : After a sudden and violent storm forces the crew of Insight III to perform an emergency evacuation, astronaut James Barnes was believed to have died and was left behind on Mars. Two years later, Commander Steve Rogers still refuses to let go. Fortunately, so does Bucky.

Through The Woods : There’s a legend in Mansewood, nearly as old as the town itself, about a pack of werewolves that once lived in the forest. They say only one survives; a monstrous and snarling beast with fur like a blizzard and fangs the size of daggers. Steve doesn’t care about any of that. He only wants to know if it prefers T-Bone or ribeye, and would it please stop tracking dirt through his house? He just mopped the floor.

~

BlueSimplicity

(series) You Are Responsible For What You Tame : After the events in DC and on the helicarriers, and the realization that his friend Bucky Barnes is still alive, Captain Steve Rogers swears that he will do anything he can to find him. It is easier said than done, as Steve searches desperately for any hint or clue that will lead him to his friend. Steve searches, but Bucky does not want to be found. And so begins their game of cat and mouse, as Steve does everything in his power to convince Bucky to come home.

~

GoldBlooded

A Midsummer Knight's Dream : Sir Steven, knight, alpha, and baron of a small countryside estate, receives an invitation to a Royal Tournament: It’s a winner-take-all competition, and the prize? The hand of Prince James, the kingdom’s most eligible omega, in marriage.

Feast On This : Steve, Sarah, and Bucky are headed down to Florida to visit the Barnes family for Thanksgiving. Bucky's tired of the interrogation about his love life from his Ma, and Sarah suggests the simplest solution would be for he and Steve to fake it for a few days. How hard can it be, right? After all, they've shared a bed before. After all, it's only pretend... Right?

Luck of the Irish Stroll : Every year Steve and Sam go on the Irish Stroll Bar Crawl, and ever since their first time on the Stroll four years ago, Steve and Sam cross paths with Bucky and Natasha. Every year Steve’s world is rocked by the gorgeous, blue-eyed man that has captivated him since they first locked eyes fighting over a couple of pints of Guinness from the bartender. But Steve's starting to want and need more of Bucky... will this be the year he can make it last for more than one night?

~

girlbookwrm

(TBR) (series) The Hundred Year Playlist : Steve and Bucky, start to finish. "Come on, pal, it's me. Take another hundred years if you want, I'll still be here."

sidereal : Captain Rogers never did a self-portrait; we can only speculate who his soulmate — or soulmates — might have been.

~

ClaraxBarton

Holding On : “Your poll numbers are way down, and we need to get them back up.”

~

stfustucky

Salt & Sugar (collab with GoldBlooded) : Steve Rogers is a bigshot celebrity chef in New York City, and Bucky Barnes is a classically trained pastry chef in Moscow. When billionaire and mutual friend Natasha Romanoff calls on them to collaborate for her Memorial Day Benefit Gala, they both brace themselves to spend the week working with some jerk they're bound to hate. 

Honestly, Fuck Brooklyn : Or, the one where it takes yet another apocalypse for the somewhat oblivious Bucky Barnes to figure out that his dorky artist boyfriend Steve is actually Captain Goddamned America.

~

writeonclara

How to Woo the Winter Soldier : Or: Steve courts the Winter Soldier.

[ashsblurbs]

A new life is on the horizon

Chapter 2 

3 months earlier

Tony read through the report files for his and Steve’s upcoming mission. It seemed pretty simple. An in and out job. The classic gets the thing that could kill everyone out of the control of Hydra. Steve walked into his office for a briefing before he finished up packing. He placed a kiss on Tony’s shoulder, grabbing the report out of his lover’s hand. “So, is this mission going to be a quick in and out. Maybe have enough time to go to that restaurant you love or are we going to die?” Tony chuckled grabbing the piece of paper back. “It will be more like a staying in a really nice resort called the ground and your arms.” Steve wrapped his arms around him never letting go. As long as Tony was in his arms he didn’t care where he slept.

“Later tonight do you want to work on your training.” He placed his lips in the crook of Tony’s neck, sending shivers through his body. Tony spun his chair around to face the man he loved, with a bright smile. Tony grabbed the front of Steve’s shirt pulling him closer placing an intense kiss. A low groan came from the other man’s throat. Steve grabbed hold of Tony’s belt; working to get it lose. Tony placed his hands-on top of Steve’s halting Steve’s movements. Tony leaned closer to take in the smell of Irish spring. “Can we start that training now?” Steve lifted Tony into his arms releasing a squeal from his boyfriend.

Rhodey and Carol laid awake in their bed. It wasn’t easy to fell asleep when the room next to them was making so much noise. Carol curled closer to Rhodey’s side slowly closing her eyes until there was another bang on the wall. Carol jumped up banging back. “Ugh, can they stop? They have been going at it for the last two hours.” Rhodey stayed lying in bed scrolling through his phone not paying any attention to the noise. After rooming with Tony through college, you kind of just ignored the moanings of the great Tony Stark. Rhodey patted the bed indicating for Carol to come back to bed. “Sweetheart come lay back down. Tony has about two more rounds in him.” “Eww, please I don’t want to know about Steve and Tony’s sex life.” That just made him laugh. Carol scrolled him but got into bed curling up beside him. She plucked the phone out of his hands forcing him to turn and look at her. She was fascinating looking. She was his shining star that lead him back to Earth. He giggled to himself. Maybe he was her thing that brought her back down to Earth.

“Are you okay?” Rhodey grabbed hold of her hand; massaging each of her fingers. “You know just a lot on my mind. Two of my closes friends are going head first into a Hydra camp with no help. Bucky and I both have a gut feeling something is going to happen, but Tony reassured me that everything was going to be alright but I’m not sure.” Rhodey sucked in a breath continuing to play with her fingers. “Then you have your mission against the Kree. And I know you can take care of yourself. I just hope you know you never have too alone.” Carol snaked her fingers through Rhodey’s. “Look at me” Rhodey did as asked and saw not a mean glare but more like a strong glaze. “James, I love that you care so deeply for all of us. But you need to take better care of yourself. Worry less darling. Don’t you have your meeting with the council tomorrow. That means you need to get some sleep.” Rhodey nodded in agreement placing a kiss to her cheek. He knew she was right. It was just hard for him to really ease his mind after everything he had gone through with all of his friends. He almost lost them more then once and what scared him the most was next time one of them wasn’t going to come back.

Steve laced up his last boot. Pulled on his gloves and grabbed his shield, clicking it onto his back. He stared into the mirror looking at the man he no longer recognized the man that was long forgotten. Captain America was the man out of time. The man that was searching for a home where he finally felt like he belong. Captain America was an angry man looking for a fight. He was man that couldn’t live without a war. He wasn’t that man anymore.

Steve Rogers was the man that had finally found peace and happiness. He was the man didn’t want to fight anymore. He was ready to explore the man he became and grow a life with Tony. The one he loved. The one he never knew he was allowed to have. Steve reached into his pocket pulling out a small black box. He opened to find a silver ring that was made out of vibranium.

“Hey, what’s that?” Steve shut the box quickly shoving it back in his pocket. “Oh, nothing. Bucky just dropped it off. He um.” Steve scratched the back of his neck to find a convincing lie that Tony would believe. Tony shot his eyebrow up knowing Steve was hiding something but didn’t feel like getting into it before their mission. Instead Tony came around and latched Steve’s belt tighter. “It’s fine. I don’t care that much. Ready to go.” Steve shook his head yes. “Yeah, I just have to go tell Bucky something before we go okay.” Steve scurried away.

“Promise me you won’t lose this. It wasn’t easy to get.” Bucky rolled his eyes and placed the box in his sock drawer knowing no one would go in there anytime soon. “Yeah, yeah I got it. It will be here when you get back. Then you can have your happy ever after.” Steve clapped his hand on his buddy’s shoulder trying to comfort him. “You get yours’s one day Buck. Just talk to him.” Bucky looked away. Steve didn’t realized that it wasn’t that simple. “Hey, it’s time to go. Be careful punk.”

A few weeks later Tony and Steve found themselves fighting against the elements. It took them a while to just find the base with every five miles being check points. There was a lot of kicking Hydra ass which was fun for Tony but now he was tired, and the suit was heavy; most likely leaving bruises. “Hey, can we set up camp here. I could use a chance to stretch my legs without the suit on.” “I agreed babe. It’s getting late anyways.” Steve removed his cowl and laid down on the ground staring up at the stars. Tony did the same. He yawned, and was fast asleep in not time.

Steve’s mind ran rapidly with many thoughts of what happened in the last days. “Tony, are you asleep?” Tony murmured something sounding like a no, but Steve knew he was. “Do you ever wonder if this could be our last mission?” Tony sat up on his elbows looking over at Steve. “What do you mean?” Steve rolled over to the other side so not to see the look on Tony’s face of what he was about to say. “Once we go home, we could be just Steve and Tony instead of Iron Man and Captain America.” Steve held his breath when Tony didn’t say anything. Tony’s whole life revolved around being Iron Man. Him and the suits were one. But for Steve the identity of Captain America just brought more pain to his world. The only good thing that came out of it was being frozen so, he was able to meet the love of his life. So, he could find his real home.

Tony pulled Steve closer to him. He could now see the worry that was all over Steve’s face. Tony nodded his head yes. Steve finally exhaled the breath he was holding. “Yeah, I would like that. I want to find out who Tony and Steve are but Steve the world needs a Captain America.” Tony was right the world needed a Captain America. “Maybe Sam or Bucky would be able to take over the mantle. I will talk to them about it.” Tony kissed Steve goodnight, falling asleep on top of Steve’s chest.

Rhodey embraced Carol before she left. “Stay safe and be your badass self. I love you.” Carol place a kiss to the inside of his neck leading up to his jaw then stopping at his lips. “I will and I love you too.” Carol immerse in an orange glow and blasted off leaving Rhodey standing in the yard alone. Maybe he could get a message from Tony tonight even though he hasn’t heard anything for a while.

“This is supposed to be the hydra base. It’s a cave. What are we going to do find a Nazi bear inside?” Steve shushed Tony. They didn’t know what could have been on the other side of this. They easily could have been outnumbered. The two men slowly walked in seeing the cave was much more like a laboratory then a dusty old cave. Everywhere was weapons and experiments but oddly no men.

“It’s oddly quiet. Where is everyone?” Steve went over to the tables to see if he could figure out anything. Nothing helped. There were really old maps and outdated blueprints. What was Hydra up too? Then a siren went off. He whirled around to find Tony pulling a lever he shouldn’t have. “What are you doing?” “I thought there was going to be a secrete door.” Before Steve could say anything else. Hundreds of Hydra agents came running from all different directions. They fault and fault taking several agents out but then more just took their place. Steve tried calling on comms for back up, but they were block. “Tony, we are alone. I can’t get in touch with base.” Tony tried himself, but nothing was working. It was like everything was offline. They were stuck.

Sam and Bucky laid in the bed looking straight ahead not wanting to meet each other’s eyes. What had they just done they thought? It was just supposed to be a couple of drinks and then going to bed. Not finding themselves in bed together. “We will never speak of this.” Still not looking at each other. Sam nodded his head in agreement. “I agree. This was a mistake.” Bucky looked down pulling on a piece of thread. It wasn’t a mistake for him. He really liked Sam, but Sam only saw him as a friend. “I agree.” His voice shacked even though he didn’t agree.  Sam gathered his clothes and walked out leaving Bucky with a hole in his chest.

[stillebesat]

"It’s an egg!” and “THE EGG IS HATCHING!” with Dragon!Virgil and any other Side, please?

Egg-stenuating Circumstances

Sanders Sides: Roman, VirgilFic Type: Dragon!Au, FantasyBlurb: Why is it that the simplest of quests for Roman always end up more complicated than they should be?Warnings: None (let me know if I need to add any)

“If this witch can’t help me, I’m eating you.” Virgil growled over Roman’s head as they moved through the forest, the black dragon’s larger feet picking through the underbrush with much more coordination than they had a fortnight ago, even if he still made enough noise to wake up the city a day’s ride way.

Roman barely flinched at the threat, having heard it a dozen times already, though it didn’t stop a shiver from running down his spine every time the dragon spoke. He kept moving ahead of Scales with his trusty blade bared, head on a swivel as he scanned the trees for potential threats. “No you’re not.”

“Am too.” 

“You’ve said that before with every witch we’ve encountered.” Roman smirked, turning to gesture down at himself. “And I’m still very much out here and not in you.”  

“And every time another witch chases us off with molten fireballs, the temptation grows stronger.” Virgil hissed under his breath as his horns tangled for the thousandth time in a tree branch.

Roman silently raised his eyes to the forest canopy as Scales worked to free himself, the talons as long as his sword digging gouges deep into the earth as he fought a losing battle with the tree. 

At this rate they would only make it another mile or two before the sun set.

He exhaled, sheathing his weapon. “Hold on–” Roman jumped up, grabbing onto one of Virgil’s spikes and swung himself up onto the dragon’s back, navigating between the two furled wings and up the shimmering black scales of the neck with much more ease than most of the towers he’d climbed in order to rescue damsels in distress. “You know this quest would be much easier if we just–”

“Don’t.” The wings on Virgil’s back trembled, curling tighter.

Roman rolled his eyes, balancing on Spikey’s large head so he could untangle the horns. “Fly, Virgil.” 

They could have seen another twenty witches by now if only–He yelped as the dragon jerked his head down and to the side, sending Roman flying into undergrowth, through a dozen bushes and over a small stream to roll to a stop against a half buried boulder. 

Ow. 

“WE. ARE. NOT. FLYING.” 

Roman spat out a mouthful of leaves, roughly brushing the back of his hand over his eyes to dislodge the dirt. Okay. Maybe he deserved that. “Pretty sure I didn’t ask for a flying lesson.” He called back, blinking his vision clear.

It wasn’t the worst or the furthest way he’d been thrown. He’d suffered more with the Kelpie that had played wild bronco with him, but still.

“Well, that’s the only way you’re getting off the ground, because I didn’t ask to be changed into a dragon either!” Virgil snarled, the crash of falling trees marking his approach. 

Yah yah. Roman was familiar with the complaint. “Gotcha, Scales. No wings next time, I got the concept.” He said, ignoring the shadow that fell over him. Hopefully there wouldn’t be a next time. The sooner he saw the back of Spikey’s human self the better. 

Brushing the twigs from his hair Roman dropped his hands to push himself up and frowned as his fingers encountered cool glass…in the middle of nowhere. “What the?” He mumbled, brushing away a dusting of dirt, his fingers flashed with sudden warmth, leaving red streaks shimmering on the surface of a–

“It’s an egg!” Virgil hissed, black tail curling around an opalescent egg nearly the size of Roman’s head, leaving a shimmering large band of purple across it as the dragon pulled it out of his reach. “You don’t mess with those!”

“And what exactly are you doing then?” Roman demanded, pushing up onto one elbow, frowning as Virgil hunkered down, tail protectively keeping the egg close to him. “You don’t even know what type of egg that is!” He certainly didn’t. Roman had never seen anything like what was peeking out from Scales tail before and he’d raided dozens of nests.

The dragon growled, fanning out his wings defensively. “I’m keeping you from breaking it, or worse.”

Huh. Fire and Brimstone had never struck him as the paternal type.  

“Worse? Ha.” Roman shoved to his feet. “Beyond the fact that I-” He gestured to himself. “Am a Valor. What could I do that is worse than breaking it? Which, by the way, I wasn’t going to do.” He jabbed a finger to the black dragon. “Which one of us here is a) the giant fire-breathing dragon and b) the one who just threw me halfway across the forest and into the nest!” 

He never would have found it if it hadn’t been for Scaredy Cat here refusing to fly because of a fear of heights. He was a dragon for crying out loud! Master of the Skies! Surely a human fear wouldn’t transfer into a dragon body. It had to be against his new instincts to spend so long on the ground.

Silver eyes glittered at him as Scales bared his teeth, ears laying back. “Who turned who into the freaking Dragon with their uncontrollable magic, oh mighty Valor? It certainly isn’t me.”

Oh. That was low. Roman clenched his hands, fighting to breathe normally as red sparks briefly flickered along his fingertips. 

It wasn’t his fault that the wildmagic had chosen to unexpectedly manifest in him during his battle with a Manticore-Chimera monstrosity rampaging through the Capital. 

After all, it was a magic that Valors weren’t supposed to have because it was corrupted. A magic that had, when Roman had been seeking a shield to protect himself with, decided to change Virgil from cloaked stranger sheltering in a market stall into a huge black dragon that had defeated the Manticore-Chimera in a bonfire of purple tinted flames.

“And I’ve told you before.” Roman managed say in a mostly steady voice, moving his hand behind his back as he pushed to his feet. “That it was an accident! And I am going to fix it!”

That was his job. He fixed things. He saved people. He rescued the damsels in distress. He could do this!

“You keep saying that and yet here I am STILL,” Virgil’s wings flapped for emphasis, sending last years fallen leaves swirling into the air. “A dragon.”

Because Sparky’s particular problem turned out to be a bit more…complicated than Roman had originally thought. Wildmagic refused to work with other magics. Even though they’d tracked down and taken the human-turned-dragon to at least a dozen witches and sorcerers to undo Roman’s accidental …alterations to the market boy, they’d only encountered failure after failure. Fleeing for their lives more often than not.

And it was all Roman’s fault. 

His fault that Virgil was still a dragon. That he had no control over his…magic. Perhaps it was best that the dragon kept the now red and purple egg away from him before the wildmagic ruined another life. 

Roman forced himself to meet the dragon’s silver eyes. “You won’t be forever.” He said, working to keep confidence in his voice. That was all he could promise. His other ones of ‘by sunset,’ in ‘three days,’ and ‘before the full moon’ had proven his word wasn’t worth a grain of salt to the wildmagic running through his veins. But no matter what it took, he would find a way to get the dark cloaked market boy back. 

The silence stretched out until Virgil huffed, blowing smoke into his face. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Or you’ll eat me?” He offered, closing the distance so he could crouch down near the now mostly purple egg. He frowned. Huh. It was almost like the color was bleeding from Virgil onto the shell. Why–He blinked, his own fingers warming again as he brushed its glassy surface, leaving a wash of red streaks in his wake. 

What sort of egg changed colors from touch? There had been nothing in his Valor training that mentioned such a possibility. 

Virgil hissed dropping his wing down, shoving Roman back. “What did I say about touching the egg?” 

Roman threw his hands up in the air. “Do you see my fingers sparking at all?” He demanded, hoping Scales would ignore the fact they’d been doing just that two minutes earlier. 

“You could still break it! Your magic has done weirder things.”

True. He didn’t want to dwell on that. “You’re the one with your tail wrapped around it!” He shot back. “Are you planning to babysit it until the parents maybe come back, because I wouldn’t be surprised if your bumbling presence has scared them awa–”

CRACK.

They both froze at the sound, Scales eyes growing wide as he quickly whipped his tail away from the egg. “You don’t think–”

Oh, there was definitely a noticeable crack along the purple and red streaked section. A blind man would have been able to see it from a mile away. Roman tensed, dropping his hand down to his sword. 

“Virgil!” 

Virgil’s wings lifted straight up as he dropped his head down next to Roman’s, laser focused on the rocking egg. “I didn’t do it!” 

“You didn’t–” Roman shoved Scales nose away and darted forward, hoping he wasn’t making a huge mistake. “You’re the one who moved it from its spot and NOW THE EGG IS HATCHING!” He winced as his voice rose an octave. 

There was no need to panic. No need at all. Just a freaking mystery egg was hatching in front of them and he had no idea what to expect or how to help. He knew you couldn’t force a hatching, but was this egg like a dragon’s egg where the parents needed to help out or like a chicken egg where the chicks could do it themselves?

“How was I supposed to know!” Scales demanded, sounding nearly as hysterical as Roman felt as he crouched down nearby, his wings practically radiating a summer’s heat wave they mantled over the violently shaking egg. “What if it dies because of us–How are we–”

BANG. BANG. CRACK.

They flinched as the top half of the egg exploded, the shell ricocheting off of Virgil’s wing as the baby spilled out onto the forest floor. 

Roman’s heart jumped into his throat. A yellow and black tail similar to Virgil’s writhed in the dirt in place of legs as small human like arms waved in the air near the baby’s very human head. A human head that, with the exception of a scattering of dragon scales covering the left side of his face, looked very similar to Roman’s baby portraits. Curly hair and all. 

It was like this creature was…was a combination of…of him and…and–

A loud cry pierced through the air as the baby turned his head to them, small fangs glinting in the sunlight as wide mismatched green and silver eyes locked onto theirs, pleading for help.

“Virgil…” Roman licked his lips, shakily reaching out to take one of the babe’s hands, lightly running his thumb over the tiny seed sized scales there at the same time the dragon’s black tail reached out to curl around the baby’s. “I-I think we’re parents now.” 

End

Taglist: @loverofpizzaandallthingssweet @not-so-innocent-bi-sander @redundant-statements-for-400 @aikogumi @depressed-alone @lizziepopanime @midnightcandy @sidewritings @nekoabi @ironwoman359 @ilovereadingandilovebreathing @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @theblackhoundsdaughter @littlemiracle05 @virgil-has-a-houseplant @caristars @seas-space-and-stardust @thedannyparable @faacethefacts @but-jesuschrist-im-never-good @fancydelusionluminary @generalfandomfabulousness @theincediblesulk @i-am-avacado @entitydark @unikornavenger @iris-sanders-athena @narniasfinestavengingsociopath @queen-of-all-things-snuggly @uniquesoulshatter @made-of-bitterness-and-sarcasm @moltengoldenstardust @sanders-is-awesome @myownhappilyeverafter @dragonsight9 @loving-neko @lucifer-in-my-head  @punsterterry @riley-castillo @sleepyssnail @fandomcrazy899 @fuck-perfection-be-a-mess @yay-cats9 @i-will-physically-fight-you @wisepuma23 @jemthebookworm @sparkedawg @kirsten-the-freak @jughead-is-canonically-aroace @saphirestrike @proudhufflepuff @dementeddracon @thatgaydemigodnerd @fallout-jedi @koalaaquabear @deep-ocean-blues @heythereprincey @inalandofmythandtimeofmagic @somepostontheinternet @nyamafriend @topiwolf 

[kindaangelic]

All in One

For Batfamweek 2018 Day 4: AU

Universe A

Alternate timelines were such a bitch to navigate. Damian mentally chastized himself for cussing, even in the privacy of his own head. He was becoming more like crass, boorish, Todd every day.

Damian plodded up to the Wayne Manor in this timeline, and fervently hoped that he existed in this timeline. He rang the doorbell and waited with bated breath as the door cracked open to reveal...

“Father,” Damian sighed with relief.

Bruce’s eyebrow hiked up his forehead. “...Damian. Unless you’ve managed to clone yourself, then I suggest that you explain this.”

“Universe clash,” Damian said. “Can I come in?”

The man Damian had dubbed Bruce-A stepped aside to let his tiny alternate-son stomp through. As soon as he entered the house, Damian saw his entire family, and for once, he was glad to see them. They all looked up with varying reactions.

His alternate brother, Dick-A, rather predictably, squealed and ran to hug the new Dami. Damian was yanked over to the couch so that Dick-A could now cuddle both Damians to maximize his Love efficiency. “Hello Grayson,” Damian said amicably. Dick-A’s greeting was lost in the shower of butterfly kisses that he was pressing on top of Damian’s head.

“Hello Alternate self,” Damian grinned at his doppelgänger.

“And a good day to you, my counterpart,” Damian-A greeted him in return. “Tell me, do we still fight crime in your universe?”

“We do,” Damian affirmed. “We are beloved by the people, revered by our peers, and feared by our enemies. The name of Robin holds great significance across universes.”

Dick-A peered at him. “You’re Robin?” Damian nodded. “Oh. That’s strange.”

Damian’s heart sank. “I am not Robin in this universe?”

Damian-A shook his head. “No, I never was. I am Flamebird, the partner of Grayson’s Nightwing.”

Dick-A beamed. “When Damian first came to stay with us, he was having a hard time of it. We gravitated towards each other, since I know what it’s like to come from a different culture with a different way of life. He knows that he can ask questions and be himself around me.”

And I’ll love him no matter what, went unsaid. Dick-A and Damian-A smiled at each other.

“...so who is Robin?” Damian asked, dreading the answer. Not Fatgirl, please, not Fatgirl, he prayed.

“Drake,” Damian-A said, pointing out the still stringy Tim-A, who was trying to pilfer some Cheez-Its from Jason-A.

“Oh,” Damian said. That wasn’t too bad. In fact, this arrangement allowed him to work with Grayson all of the time. Just then, Damian felt a tug at his consciousness. “I think that I am about to be transported back to my universe,” he said. “Farewell, Alternate family.”

“Bye Dami, I’ll miss you,” Dick-A cooed, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Ahem,” Dami-A coughed pointedly.

Dick-A went back to smothering his rightful Dami, and Damian had just a second to commit the scene to memory before he was flung through time and space once more.

Universe B

This was most definitely not his universe, Damian thought dourly. He was going to call this Universe-B. This time, fate had chucked him into what he had recognized as Todd’s room in the manor. He scrambled off of the floor, and was dusting himself off as the door opened to reveal the man himself, Todd-B.

Damian braved himself to battle his older and no doubt peeved brother, and was surprised to see Todd smiling at him softly. Strange. Todd only smiled like that when Grayson fretted over him, or when Drake was asleep and made little snuffling noises.

“There you are,” Jason-B said. “Come down for lunch, Alfie’s made lasagna.”

Damian could not reconcile this benign version of his brother with the roughshod familiarity of his own Todd. Therefore, he was not prepared when Todd-B reached down and picked him up and put him on his hip.

“Release me this instant!” Damian cried.

“Aw, pipe down, Dames,” Jason chuckled.

“Release me, I am not who you think I am!” Damian cried, panicking slightly.

“What do you mean you’re not-oh,” Jason-B stooped short, looking at the dining table occupied with the rest of the family and his own Damian.

“TODD! YOU JEZEBEL! How dare you place another in my rightful hip spot!” Damian-B screamed.

“Oh boy.”

***

After Damian had explained that he was here as a result of a universe displacement, and everyone had quieted down, Alfred set an extra place at the table for him and Damian sat down.

“In my universe, I am Robin,” he informed his universe-B family.

“In this universe, you’re not,” Dick-B said.

“Ah, is it Drake again?”

Dick-B smiled. “No, Timmy’s not Robin now. He’s Flamebird, my partner.” Seated besides Dick-B, Tim-B smiled.

“Then who is Robin!?” Not Fatgirl, please god, not Fatgirl!

“Cass is Robin.” Phew.

“Then what are you?” Damian asked his counterpart, “if not Robin or Flamebird?”

Jason-B cleared his throat. “Actually, you’re with me.” Damian’s eyes popped in disbelief. “Little Hoodie.”

“No one actually calls me that,” Damian-B hurried to say. “My code name is Demon Bird.”

“I chose the name,” Tim-B said proudly.

“I voted for sparrow, because you’re cute and small like one of them, Dami!” Dick-B said.

“I wanted to name you Red Cardigan, but you were all like nooo-“

“Todd, we are not having this conversation again-“

“-and Flannel Boy was a great choice too!” Jason-B went on. “Dick was totally on board with Sequin Lad, weren’t you, Dickie?”

Damian goggled at his counterpart. “You work with Todd?”

“He rescued me from the League,” Damian-B shrugged. “He brought me home and had to face his worst demons prematurely in Gotham. But he did it for me. He is a good and noble warrior.”

Damian pondered this. He wondered if his Todd would have acted similarly, had he known of Damian during his time with Talia.

However, there was no time to ponder this, as Damian felt the telltale tug of the space-time continuum. He hurriedly bid his family-B goodbye, and went tumbling into the void once more.

Universe C

This time, Damian came to in the Batcave. Perhaps in this universe, he was Batman. Damian smiled and got to his feet, eager to check out his surroundings, only to see Drake looking down at him.

“Time travel or alternate universe?” He asked succinctly.

“The latter,’ Damian grumbled.

Tim-C nodded, and then smiled. “I take it that you’re a vigilante in your universe too, then. What are you?”

“I am Robin.”

“Huh,” Tim said, surprised. “What am I, then?”

“You are called Red Robin,” Damian said, careful to not let slip anything about their sibling rivalry from his own world.

“I’m Red Robin here too,” Tim-C said.

“Then Robin is...” Could it be? Oh god-

“Duke.”

“Praise be!” Damian shouted, and threw up his hands to the heavens. “The Fates are merciful, that Fatgirl does not sully the mantle of Robin!”

Tim-C chuckled. “Steph is Batwoman here.” Damian gasped. The horror.

“And I?”

Tim-C studied Damian for a second before replying. “You’re called...Blackbird,” he said, before quietly adding, “you’re my partner.”

Damian could feel the muscles in his jaw drop. He was working with Drake? How on earth had that come to be?

“Things weren’t great at first between us,” Tim-C admitted. “Then...Bruce was...”

Killed. Thrown through time by Darksied.

“We were all in a bad place. I was convinced that Bruce was alive. Mostly, I couldn’t stand the thought of losing the man I’d just started to love as my father. It was the same with you, I suspect.

“You were the only one who trusted my word when I said that I was going to find Bruce. You helped me while I was working out what was happening. All those late nights, sifting through information and guzzling coffee together really strengthened our bond.”

“Grayson let me have coffee?” Damian asked.

“Oh no,” Tim-C smirked. “You only got warm milk with honey, because Dick wanted you to have strong bones and because you were his little bumblebee”

Damian smiled. Stupid, emotional, Grayson. “Where is everyone else?”

“They’re at work, or at school. I caught a cold, so I can’t go,” Tim-C sniffled. “It’s been kinda fun, actually. My Dames been plying me with ‘home-remedies’ that he’s been bugging his mom and grandfather for on the phone. R’as sent over Lazarus Pit water.”

Tim-C finished and stared down at Damian. Damian let the silence fall, and contemplated his life in this universe. “My Drake is...quite alright,” he said. “We did not get along at first, but now, he seems to be better with having me around.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” Tim-C said. “When I was growing up, I always wanted a younger sibling. A brother.”

Damian stared. “Truly?”

“Yeah. I was so psyched when you showed up. It took us a while, but I’d say we’re pretty tight now,” Tim said. “So I guess I did get what I wanted after all.”

Damian had barely a second to hug Tim-C goodbye before the portal opened up and swallowed him again, sending Damian hurtling back to his universe.

Home

The portal spat Damian out into the Batcave, where he was greeted with cheers. “He’s back!” Tim cried.

Damian registered Bruce’s voice demanding to run diagnostics, and Jason telling him to shove his diagnostics in an unspeakable place. They were both knocked aside as Dick came hurtling forward, scooping Damian up and away from the portal.

“Dami, you’re home!” Dick sobbed, dripping fat, love-saturated, tears on top of Damian’s head. “I’ll never let you go again!”

“He has to use the bathroom sometime,” Jason pointed out. “Leggo of the kid, Dick, you’re suffocating him.” Instead, Dick passed him to Jason, who spluttered, “not what I meant, idiot.” Nevertheless, Damian felt Jason’s heart pounding a mile a minute.

Huh. That was...touching.

“Todd, you are experiencing tachycardia,” Damian pointed out.

Bruce startled. “Jason! I won’t lose you again, son!” He ran forward and tugged Jason to the medical wing, despite the younger man’s protests of oh my god, Bruce, get off of me, I’m fine, stop touching!

Free of Jason’s hold, Damian took a moment to look at Tim, who had successfully closed the portal and was now passing tissues to a still emotional Dick. He snagged a tissue for himself, to dab his own streaming nose, the beginnings of yet another allergy.

“Drake.”

“Yeah?”

“Ginger and honey. With lemon.”

Tim’s shy smile filled Damian with a warmth that went to his fingertips. It was good to be home.

[pengiesama]

Too Many Cooks (Fic, Gen)

Title: Too Many Cooks Series: Tales of Zestiria Pairing: Gen Characters: Rose, Alisha, Malfore

Summary: Rose and company help Alisha protect a vital shipping lane from attack by a rampaging drake. "Luckily" for them, Rolance has sent their own Shepherd to help.

(Or, "The One Where Everyone Involved Learns a Lesson in Patience and Self-Control, and Also How Not to Stab People.")

Link: AO3

This was my entry for day one of the TOZ 4th Anniversary project, at @tozanniversary! Day two's prompt was “I’m the son of a provincial lard!”.

Check out the other fic and art entries here:

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Read on Tumblr!

Rolance and Hyland were now working together on a variety of initiatives. Rebuilding destroyed towns, reseeding blighted fields, purging the land of the hellions that still roamed and of the lingering pockets of resistance to the kingdoms’ treaty. Alisha, of course, worked tirelessly; alongside Sergei, when he was available, but always Rose. Rose was still styling on the Shepherd Incognito thing – she was just used to working in the shadows when it came to things outside the Sparrowfeathers business, and it was easier besides.

There were those who remembered the Shepherd Sorey, and tales of his deeds were spreading; tales made larger than life and more wild by his sudden disappearance, at the very same time hope returned to the land. Surely he will return when humanity becomes pure enough. He sleeps under the mountain, waiting for this day. Leave offerings at the mantle for his seraphic helpers to bring to him each night. Rose was kind of worried about how Sorey would react to having a religion built up around him when he finally woke up.

Rose knew that taking up the Shepherd gig wouldn’t be easy. Sure, Sorey was stuck handling the really hard stuff. (She sent up a little prayer every night to wish him well – she never prayed in the past, never thought anyone would listen, but now she knew that Sorey would and was and always will.) But she was stuck handling the really annoying stuff.

The political stuff.

The political stuff that you couldn’t solve by stabbing with a knife.

The political stuff that you could solve by stabbing with a knife but now you’ve got a very delicate truce situation to navigate and so you can’t.

“…and I tell you this in utter sincerity, and above all, humility: the moment I appeared on the scene, the hellion took a single look at me and turned tail! I spoke naught a word, but the foul creature surely understood the overwhelming holy power at my command.” Malfore nodded gravely, and adjusted that stupid fucking beret on his stupid fucking skull. “It is a heavy burden. I do not intend to upset your delicate feminine composure with my travel accounts – please do let me know if you feel that you are about to faint from terror. But I tell you these tales for a reason. Understand, ladies, that you are safe under my protection as we travel.”

“Cool story, bro,” Rose said. Alisha was stiff as a rail, walking several paces ahead of them, clearly too infuriated to trust herself to speak. “I bet that was totally a hellion and not just like, a fat raccoon you saw knocking over the garbage cans behind the Shrinechurch one time.”

“Yes, it was truly a saga for the ages,” Malfore said, clearly not having registered a word she said. “I am indeed writing a memoir about my experiences, so please, do be patient while the creative process works. Ah, but that brings to mind another encounter…”

The mission they were on today was, indeed, dangerous. They were out to investigate a string of destructive landslides that threatened to dam up a major shipping highway between Rolance and Hyland – which would bring trade, not to mention transport of relief supplies and doctors, to a screeching halt. Preliminary scouting around the area led to the grim conclusion that they were probably dealing with a drake. An impossible task for the Hyland princess and her troop of ordinary soldiers (and her totally ordinary merchant pal who was only tagging along to make sure their supply train kept running smoothly) to be expected to deal with herself. And so, Rolance had graciously allowed Hyland to borrow their Shepherd (who was Totally Legit, and definitely not a fake asshole who didn’t know a hellion from a hole in the ground) to help with the process of retaking the river.

Rose was used to humoring pompous windbags – it was part of the customer service gig. Even Edna and Lailah had learned to live with the situation for the time being. But Alisha…well. She’d been condescended to and insulted and disregarded by people all her life, and had taken it with a kind of martyr attitude; as if it was simply a test to make her a better knight. But Malfore seemed to really be stretching her patience to the breaking point. She’d hardly said a word the past few days – as if Malfore had even let them get a word in, with all his yapping, but even when they were in their tent alone together, she was as silent as a stone, and as prickly as a pufferfish every time Rose approached.

“May I explain Alisha’s struggle?” Lailah asked politely.

Rose jumped a mile at the sudden sound of Lailah’s voice in her head. Malfore laughed magnanimously, and gently patted Rose on her head like a scared puppy. He removed his hand before Rose could break his fucking fingers.

“Fear not, for as I am standing here in front of you today, you can be assured that this story has a happy end. Now, as I was saying, I was wooing the beautiful water seraph who had rescued me from my sinking vessel, when the pirates attacked…”

“I’m going to bury him in dirt and bugs tonight while he sleeps and you can’t stop me,” Edna said.

“Now, now,” Lailah said mildly, not even pretending to dissuade her. “Regarding Alisha’s stress, it is clear that she is upset by Malfore’s falsehoods above all.”

“That makes approximately all of us,” Rose whispered back under her breath. Gesticulating wildly as he mimed the pirate battle, Malfore didn’t notice one bit. “But she’s spent her whole life working with politicians. I’ve seen her with them before, and she’s never gotten like this even when they’re lying through their teeth.”

“It is the nature of Malfore’s falsehoods, specifically. She is clearly quite upset at the thought of him taking credit for your and Sorey’s hard work and sacrifice.”

“And she can’t even call him out on it, or bury him in bugs and dirt,” Edna added. “This Rolance treaty is more trouble than it’s worth.”

“I don’t remember ever fighting off a hellion raccoon,” Rose said dubiously. “Or wooing a water seraph. Unless bringing that stack of books for Mikleo to read on his downtime counts.”

Mikleo was usually too preoccupied with tending to Sorey’s light in the ruins to come along on these missions, but this time it was probably for the best – he’d probably be stomping along ahead, fuming at Malfore’s bullshit right alongside Alisha.

Which, in turn, would have resulted in them both getting caught up in the sudden landslide that knocked Alisha off her feet and sent her tumbling down the mountain. Her form rapidly became a white and pink speck as it was swept away under a tide of mud and stone, down into the river below. Rose heard the telltale shriek of a drake, and jerked her eyes away from Alisha just in time to see the creature charging at them from the woods.

“Hepsin Yulind!”

Edna’s stone fists grasped the drake by its curled, goat-like horns. Rose dug the ornate heels of her boots into the ground; only barely managing to halt the drake’s charge with the armatus’ strength before it knocked her down the mountain and into the drink with Alisha. The drake, undaunted, thrashed its head in an attempt to break Rose’s grip.

“Think fast!” Edna snapped at her. “You can’t expect me to keep this up forever!”

Even if Edna’s grip remained true, their footing was becoming less and less existent, with every stomp and thrash of the drake’s cloven hooves. If they didn’t get on solid ground fast, both she and the drake would wind up careening down the mountainside – she had no idea where Alisha was down there, and would have no way to keep her from getting crushed by ten tons of malevolent scales. That would ruin her day even faster than Malfore rambling about pirates and racoons. She had no idea where that idiot had run off to – he certainly wasn’t helping, not that Rose would have wanted to have to deal with whatever his idea of “help” would be. Alas, Rose was the only Shepherd on call today. What a tragedy.

In situations like these, Rose liked to go by the mantra: What Would Sorey Do?

“Yeehaw!” Rose yeehawed yeehawingly, and flipped herself onto the drake’s back.

She held on for dear life as the drake shrieked and bucked. With the horns in her grip, she was able to steer them – inexpertly, and clumsily, but it was enough to get the drake to tangle itself in the trees and crash headlong into the mountain face. It was stunned, stunned long enough for Rose to summon Lailah’s power and get to work.

“Here,” Rose said hurriedly, lowering the unconscious earth seraph to the ground in front of Lailah. “Keep an eye on them, I’ve gotta—”

“Thank your radiant Lady Edna for her compassion?” Edna asked. She had Alisha held aloft in a bower of vines and flowers – Rose hadn’t noticed her slip away while she and Lailah purified the drake. Alisha was soaked from the river, and covered in scratches and bruises, but was conscious, and struggling against the vines that held her tight. “You’re welcome. Here’s your special delivery.”

“I—I’m so sorry,” Alisha managed to get out. Rose helped her down from the vines, and slung Alisha’s arm around her shoulders to steady her. “If I hadn’t been acting so childishly, I…I wouldn’t have put everyone in danger…”

“And we would have had no heads up that the drake was two seconds away from charging us flat.” Rose thumped her on the back, and Alisha grunted at the feeling. “Believe me, that could’ve gone way worse…speaking of worse, did you see if our friend came tumbling after you? We were down one Shepherd in that little scuffle.”

Alisha’s eyes narrowed, and her expression darkened at hearing of Malfore’s…lack of participation. “…no, I did not see whether he was knocked down alongside me. I suppose we must form a search party.”

“Don’t bother,” Edna said. She pointed into the trees with her umbrella. A telltale fallen beret pinpointed the location. “He’s cowering under a bush over there. Better go get him before the poison ivy does.”

Rose sighed. “Sometimes I really wish this Shepherd gig really was just fighting hellions. C’mon, I’ll help you walk…”

To his credit, Malfore only screamed a little when Rose drew back the leaves covering his hiding spot. He stared at Rose in wide-eyed terror, his complexion pale, his whole body shaking.

“Nice to see you’re well, Lord Shepherd,” Rose said. She dropped his beret back onto his head.

“You…how…” Malfore grasped for words. “You…wrestled the landslide itself, as if – as if it were some charging beast—”

Rose distantly recalled Lailah explaining that humans without resonance couldn’t quite perceive drakes – dragons were a different story, but before things got that bad, drakes could only be seen as natural disasters. Whirlwinds, typhoons. Landslides. Her escapades probably did look pretty damn weird to an outside observer.

It would be nice to tell him the truth. It would be nice to grab him by the ear, and forcibly share enough resonance with him to show him the real deal – show him what a fake he really was. But…Rose looked at Alisha, at the unhappy line of her mouth, at her bruised and battered body. She understood what was going through Alisha’s mind, even without Lailah’s voice to tell her. Alisha worked herself to the bone to improve relations with Rolance. She’d made so much progress, and they were helping so many people. As they helped people, the world’s malevolence lightened; as the world’s malevolence lightened, they helped Sorey. And to keep this going, all they had to do was humor an idiot.

Rose closed her eyes, and gently eased Alisha to stand on her own. She crossed her arms over her chest, and pressed one hand to her heart.

“I’ll tell you my secret – but only you,” Rose said, her expression grave. “I’m an alien from beyond the stars, fleeing from my planet that was destroyed when I was but a babe in my cradle. I was adopted as a baby by a simple farmer couple.  This world’s yellow sun gives me ten times the strength of a normal human, and also I can shoot laser beams out of my eyes.”

Alisha blinked slowly, then pressed her fingers delicately to her skull, as if checking for a concussion. Lailah hummed thoughtfully and continued to heal the worst of Alisha’s injuries; saving the rest for when they had privacy.

Malfore squinted as he processed this information. “But…how did you learn to tame the landslide?”

“I grew up on a farm. It was a rock farm. A farm for rocks,” Rose explained, as Edna fed ideas in her ear. “Landslides were a basic occupational hazard. You know how it is.”

Malfore shakily rose to his feet, and dusted himself off. “I was born to one of Rolance’s most ancient and noble houses, so I’m afraid the finer points of farming may be lost on me…but thank you for assisting, visitor from beyond the stars. Had I been alone, I would have been able to best the hellion in perhaps a similar – but more elegant, of course – fashion, but I was too preoccupied with ensuring the safety of you and the Princess Alisha, and, alas, it very nearly spelled the doom of all three of us. My compassion has always been my greatest strength, and my greatest weakness.”

“Yeah, okay,” Rose said. “That’s totally probably what happened. How about we get turned around and get back on the road? I’m sure your bosses in Pendrago will love to hear about you getting this taken care of.”

“Oh, silly thing,” Malfore laughed. “The Shepherd serves no master but the people. But yes, yes, the Shrinechurch will want to hear my report. Do not worry – I will keep your secret safe, and will not speak of your involvement in the incident.”

“Thanks,” Rose said drily. “You’re a real pal.”

“The seraph we saved will follow along with us to the nearest town,” Lailah explained to Rose. “We can perform the necessary steps to install them as Lord of the Land there. They should be able to extend their domain to prevent any further malevolent influence on the sensitive areas of the shipping lanes.”

That, at least, made Alisha smile. Rose sighed and shook her head as they began walking. At least something good came out of this trip.

Though at least now she knew that she could pretty confidently tackle a goat.

[capturedaestheticsslc]

“He’s the hero that Gotham deserves, but not the one it needs right now, so we’ll hunt him. Because he can take it. He’s a silent guardian, a watchful guardian, a dark knight.” Commissioner Jim Gordon: The Dark Knight

Do you remember what it was like, as a kid, to be left in suspense and in awe of the amazing things you’d see? The feeling you’d get when something amazing happened, or you witnessed something so spectacular it left you feeling so full of life and that feeling just sticks with you. A feeling of joy, happiness, of excitement and wonder. Do you still get that feeling? Very few things today can draw the child out of you and tug at you to feel alive and full of wonder as you once did. Well what if you never had that? What if when you were a kid you witnessed the opposite? What if you witnessed something so primal, so terrifying it left you a shell of what you could have been? Or what if it created a spark? A spark that set you on a path to be something more than yourself? More than you ever dreamed of? Let me set the stage: You’re walking down a dark alley, you just got out of a great movie with your mom and and dad. A fun time is had by all, it unknown you, is a figure in the shadows, a figure who would change you’re life forever in the blink of an eye.

You may already know this one, but today, today this story is very important, why? Well, the Batman has turned 80 and it’s time to celebrate.

Bob Cane would write the very first Batman story for Detective Comics #27 in May of 1939. The story would introduce the world the masked vigilante who fought to clean up the streets of Gotham of the crime that took his parents from him on that terrible and fateful night. Batman would go on to bigger and better things and would become a pillar in the world of comics. Don’t think Bob Cane ever saw that coming. But why is this so important?

For 80 years stories of caped heroes have been created, drawn and brought to life through various forms of media. Today you can see the Avengers, Superman, TMNT and the list goes on and on, in TV, movies and just about anywhere. But did you ever think a character dressed as a bat would be up there with them? I fact, Batman has been a pioneer in the world of comics. From the original Batman film serial in the 1960’s, the Burton films of the 90’, the Animated Series, the Nolan trilogy and the list goes on and on. To understand why a man dressed as a bat has gained so much popularity, you have to look deep into the mythology of this legendary hero.

Bruce Wayne was a boy who had everything a boy could ask for. His parents were Thomas and Martha Wayne. Children of the founding families of Gotham. You can’t go anywhere in Gotham without knowing who the Wayne’s were. But all of that would mean nothing after that night. The night his parents were gunned down in an alley. The young boy watched in terror as his parents were ripped away from him, leaving him alone and broken. But where many would succumb to the loss and live a life in fear, Bruce choose different. He would take the events of that night and use them as motivation. On that night he would embark a crusade to fight injustice, to rid the streets of crime and to ensure what was done to him would never happen to anyone ever again. On the night, the idea of Batman was born.

Through out the years some of the greatest authors and artist would take the character on a journey of self discovery, turmoil, growth, loss and so much more. A journey that would pit the Batman through some of the worlds most dangerous villains, and powerful allies like Superman in Frank Miller’s iconic Dark Knight Returns. But still, was is it about Batman that has kept him going through the years? For that you have to go deeper.

Have you ever gone through something, something you thought there was no coming back from? Loss, betrayal, a devastating injury? To understand why Batman is so powerful, you have to know what it’s like to hurt. To hurt on scale so big, you have no idea you can come back from it. Speaking from personal reflections, you relate to Batman. Everyone one does, in some shape of form. Batman was able to overcome the death of his parents, the death of 2 sons, one of his greatest allies being crippled, he himself being crippled. You put yourself in his shoes, you tell yourself if he was able to overcome it, then so can I. We often think of these heroes as more than characters but as an extension of who we are. We place ourselves in there world, in their lives, to escape and to heal, to learn, to overcome. From the minuet he was created Batman would be a character who would face adversity and would have to overcome it. Something we can all agree, is no easy job. We may not fight the likes of Superman, Darkseid or the Joker, but we fight everyday life. And to some that is just as bad as the Joker. We gain power, strength and courage from our heroes, our idols. And what greater hero, than the human Batman. A hero who has overcome death and fights for what he believes in.

It doesn’t matter how old you are, where you grew up or when, at some point you’ve heard or seen the adventures of the Dark Knight. You know his story, you know his mission and you know his secret. Heroes like the Avengers are what we see and know, but for how long? Batman has been around for 80 years now and for many more years to come. Wether your a fan or not, credit has to be given to his creator, the late and legendary Bob Cane on this mile stone achievement. We owe a lot to him and to his icon characters for paving the way for so many and for inspiring generations to follow in his legacy and to carry the mantle. I am vengeance, I am the night, I am Batman.

[nuclear-reactions]

Hi! I love your writing so much! I don't know if I submitted this ask. So sorry if I did and forgot. Given Shaun somehow is able to "age" or progress as a person, could you write the different kinds of childhoods he'd have and what type of person he'd become based on the companion Sole raises him with. (And could I pretty please have a bonus where he's raised a little by everyone?)

(Thank you! Andyou’re fine, as long as you don’t spam me with a bunch of requestsyou don’t have to worry about resubmitting the occasional ask.Dogmeat and Codsworth excluded in the solo reactions)

It takes a villageto raise a child; Sole and their compatriots take this phrase maybe atad literally. On the bright side, Shaun has a deep, deep pool ofaunts and uncles to draw knowledge from on subjects he isn’t familiarwith. Danse and MacCready often fight over who should teach him toshoot (“I can hit a bloatfly from two miles out, I think I canteach a kid how to handle a gun.” “If he doesn’t plan on scoutingout sniper nests for a hour before every altercation, he’ll learnfrom me!”). Strong is the cause of his first broken bone when Shauntries to have an arm wrestling match. Curie is the one to set it andscold Strong. Cait and Hancock sneak him his first tastes of alcohol,each thinking they’re the only ones who do so. Cait in particular,after an intense round of day drinking, gives him an impromptu sex edlesson, and it’s an almost too honest -and descriptive- answer toShaun’s question of what sex was, not to mention quite different thanthe diagrams Curie showed him on reproductive organs. Piper isundoubtedly his best aunt, or at least, the closest thing to awell-rounded adult figure in his life. She’s usually the one he comesto with problems, and also dispels many of the myths Deacon handsdown (“No, you do not become a werebear if you eat charred yao guaimeat.”) Nick is more of the grandfather that knows card tricks.Codsworth is Codsworth, remaining the same mildly overbearing nannybot he’s always been. Preston never really gets the hang of him. Hetreats him a lot younger, being unsure what kids Shaun’s age are “into”. X6 isn’t the most helpful when it comes to rearing kids, andShaun only really turns to him when he wants brutal honesty.

Between the lot ofthem, Shaun ends up fairly well-rounded, with an…eclectic set ofskills, to say the least. He’s taught a little of everything. When itcomes time for him to leave the settlement, he leaves on dozens ofhandshakes and more than a few proud tears.

Danse- With Danse, he is groomed intothe picture of an army brat. It goes without saying that hisupbringing is strict, sometimes even a little harsh, but loving andfull of happy memories as well. Danse is not entirely warm, but then,he’s not entirely cold either. Sole never lets Danse treat Shaun toomuch like a Brotherhood initiate. They have to remind him now andthen that they’re not going to shoehorn their son into a militarycareer when he’s instructing him on the meticulous way a soldiershould make his bed in the mornings. He does learn a lot onmaintaining power armor and firearms, and leans more into becoming amechanic when he starts working. That, or following his father’sfootsteps into the Brotherhood (though he’s not popular, consideringDanse’s history with them). Making his father proud is tantamount inShaun’s mind, he pursues any life that would do just that. Danseraises him to be brave in the face of doubt, do what feels right, andto never let others decide your fate.

Hancock- Despitehis laz a fair approach to his own life, he does try to set Shaun ona better path than the one he ended up going down. He cleans up alittle, weans himself from the harder chems, and if he does keep afew habits, he doesn’t do them around the kid. He’s very much the “goask Sole” type of father, and Shaun gets away with a lot aroundhim. Just enough to be considered a mischievous kid and not adelinquent. He gets his first taste of beer early, his ownswitchblade, his own tricorn hat when he’s old enough it doesn’tslough off to one side of his head. Shaun adopts a lot of Hancock’svirtues, his self-confidence, loyalty, leadership skills, charm, butis taught to avoid many of his vices (which is mostly Sole’s doing).If he doesn’t end up taking up Hancock’s mantle of mayor, he likelyends up leader of a group like the Minutemen, leaving a string ofbroken hearts along the way of whatever path he treads. He’s acharmer, quick witted, and is taught to use his head above all- whichalso consists of keeping it clean. He doesn’t take up the casual chemuse that Hancock suffers from.

Deacon- Littlewhite lies are all Shaun is really allowed, yet he makes the best ofthem, and he develops a good poker face early on. Deacon is morehonest with Sole than anyone else, but first and foremost, he is apathological liar, prone to wild stories, and Shaun adopts that alittle too well. He impresses his school mates with all the storiesof his heroism, like the time he took down a radstag single-handed with nothing but a hunting knife. His tall tales either earn him agullible flock of followers or a beating from the kids smart enoughto see through his bravado. But he doesn’t just learn lying fromDeacon- he also learns compassion, fighting for what you think isright, protecting the people who are most vulnerable. And he is thesingle hardest kid to trick. He sees through deception just as easilyas he carries it out, so he quickly unravels most of the stories kidsget told (Sole has a nightmare of a time trying to convince him ofSanta Claus). His tendency towards “exaggeration” places him inthe position of a salesman later in life, hyping up his wares justenough that they seem shiny and appealing. If not that, then he’dfind himself with the Railroad, helping in whatever cause they followwhen the Institute is gone. Learning from Deacon’s mistakes, hebecomes an honest liar, easy going, and fights for the marginalized.

Piper- Havingmostly raised her little sister on her own, Piper sidles prettyeasily into the role of a mother, and his childhood is earnestlyclose to “normal” with her and Sole as parents. As normal asthings ever really got in the Commonwealth. He does, however, getinto scrapes in search of stories for Piper to cover. Being aninvestigative journalist is on par with being a spy in his mind-keeping your eyes and ears open, finding contacts, meeting in secret.He mostly grows out of this, but Piper still instills in him a loveof the written word and a desire to educate the Wastes on thingsbeyond the farms and cities they relegate themselves to. He takes totraveling at a young age, writing of his experiences in theCommonwealth and eventually, the rest of the ruins of the UnitedStates. If he doesn’t become a writer, he likely goes into lawenforcement, making sure (like Piper always taught him) that justicecomes to those who wrong others. He’s as silver tongued,compassionate, and as worldly as the woman who helps raise him.

Curie- She’slearning how to act human as much as Shaun is, so she mostly goeswith whatever Sole says when it comes to raising him. They knowbetter than she would; despite knowing how to keep kids healthy, shehad little experience with their emotional needs. Still, she does herbest. She reads him stories, partakes in nightly rituals like tuckinghim in and humming him to sleep, and when he’s too old for all that,she giddily encourages him in his studies. He learns more from herthan anything taught in school. She teaches him not only how to treatdisease, but passes on a genuine compassion and desire to help, tolearn, to make the Wastes a little better in some small capacity.When the time comes for him to strike out on his own, he travelsfurther than Curie ever has in search of knowledge, and exchanges theknowledge he brought from the Commowealth. He saves lives, being akind and caring figure all the while. He becomes everything Fathercould have been before he was twisted by the Institute.

Nick- Having arobot detective as a father is probably the coolest thing a childcould experience, and Shaun is in near constant awe of Nick. Nickhimself takes easily to being a dad and enjoys it. Shaun is his son,and really, with them both being synths cast from similar molds, itnever once felt like he wasn’t family. Having someone he could passthings on to… it was more than Nick had ever really hoped for. Hespends much of his childhood in the glow of the heart-shaped signoutside Valentine’s Detective Agency, reading through old case files,picking over evidence from new case files, and each case is a puzzlefor him to piece together. He grows up sharp and inquisitive, eagleeyed with a nose for lies. He also learns as much about synth’s innerworkings as he does humans. Nick needs the occasional tuneup whenSole isn’t around, so he helps now and then with the screws andpanels he can’t reach on his own. With this knowledge, if he doesn’tend up taking over the agency, he goes out to help runaway synthsstill wandering the Commonwealth, confused and with heads full ofmemories that aren’t their own. He grows to be perceptive, a naturalproblem solver, and sets the wrong things right wherever he goes.

Cait- Her biggestfear, besides sliding back into old habits, is becoming her parents.She does her damn best to be a good parent almost entirely out ofspite. Shaun is absolutely spoiled rotten. If Sole won’t give himsomething, he asks Caits, and nine times out of ten he gets what hewants. She’s as short tempered as she’s always been, yet for him, shekeeps it together. For him, she does better. She’s also wildlyprotective, and unsurprisingly, teaches him most problems can besolved with his fists. He’s reared knowing how to stick up forhimself, and the two of them spar a few times a week until he’s oldand skilled enough to actually beat her in a fight. By the time he’sready to leave home, there is no doubt in anyone’s minds that he’sbeen raised to take care of himself, whatever is thrown at him.Strength and fighting skills usually don’t amount to much more thanfalling in with a gang of raiders, but Shaun knows that’s not thelife either of his parents want, and the thrashing he would get ifCait knew he even considered it, so he goes into work as a bountyhunter, a body guard; anything that lets him both use his skills andsleep with an easy conscience. He’s a little wilder, a little louder,and grows up to be a fighter.

MacCready- Havingsome experience raising kids, he takes in Shaun without secondthought. Duncan has a big brother when he arrives in theCommonwealth, the two of them taking to each other almost right away.There’s hardly a day they’re separated, playing catch and shooting BBguns with their father. Shaun is protective and immensely proud ofhis younger sibling, and MacCready can finally loosen the tight griphe’d kept on his youngest son. He still keeps a watchful eye over thetwo of them, but he feels like, finally, there was someone he trustedimplicitly to keep Duncan safe. Of course, the more he gains, themore he fears losing, and he can sometimes be a bit harsh if eitherone of them do something dangerous. He couldn’t take losing them.This drives Shaun to leave at a fairly young age, learningMacCready’s stubbornness and the bravado of his youth, and Duncan isquick to follow. The two, having been taught to shoot guns beforethey could read (as well as stay out of the thick of fights) endup becoming a formidable pair of snipers. They know better than tojoin up with the Gunners or other mercenary gangs, instead becomingguns for hire. Freelance killers with a bit stricter moral codes thantheir father. If only a bit. He’s cunning, careful, and a hell of agood shot.

Preston- Being asyoung and new to parenthood as he is, he isn’t entirely prepared toraise a child who came to them fully formed. He’s anxious, alwaysconcerned he’s doing something wrong, but he does the things hisfather did for him. Teaches Shaun to shoot, the importance of a goodbook, that being kind is a reward in itself. He also teaches him thethings he had to learn for himself; that it’s fine to cry, to not beokay, to rely on others for strength when you feel like your own isfailing. Shaun’s childhood is as bumpy as any child’s is in theCommonwealth, but with Preston, there’s light even in the darkesttimes. He carries this indomitable sense of good and rightness withhim even when he’s grown, and if he doesn’t settle into a simplerlife in a settlement, he joins the Minutemen, carrying on the valueshe’s been taught. Preston teaches him the strength in community, thathope and mercy are not weakness, and to always lend a hand, whateverhe does.

X6-88- He hasspent more time with Shaun (this version and technically, the humanShaun as well) than Sole ever has, only, just not in any kind of parentalrole. He ferried him back and forth from the Institute and theCommonwealth and their relationship never went far past that. It wasstrange, suddenly being a role model for someone. Siblings, parents,family, they weren’t really an option for synths in the Institute.For Coursers, even less so. The first few years, he’s more of abodyguard than a parental figure. Learning to let go of the deathgrip he has on Institute protocol and the image of synths as tools,that takes awhile. Shaun helps. He loves him, which meant a synthlike X6 was capable of that. It was a comforting thought that one dayhe’d feel for Shaun what Shaun felt for him. He relies more on Solefor getting through the emotional turmoil of youth, as most of X6’sresponses to trivial things like school and first loves is fairlycold indifference. Not like he really understood it, he’d been madewithout thought for such things. He was still navigating some things(like first love) himself. What he does instruct Shaun in mostlypertains to combat, though he does teach him a skill that helped X6survive in the Institute- masking your true emotions. He’d have beenreprogrammed a long time ago if he hadn’t picked up that talent.Shaun grows up somewhat cold with him, making a habit of keepingthose pesky feelings to himself early on, to the point not even Solecan really coax them out of him. Not fully. As X6 learns how to bemore human, Shaun learns to be more machine. His nature andintelligence veer him, oddly enough, into politics. From X6 he learnscold calculation, the importance of keeping your cards close to yourchest, and that there’s little use for remorse.

Strong- Childhoodwith Strong being a co-parent is… weird. To say the least. Soledoes everything they can to keep him from feeding the kid human meat, eventhough he insists it will help Shaun grow big and strong, but now andthen there are a few bits of mystery meat sneaking their way into hismeals whose origins Sole couldn’t quite suss out. Regardless of hispotential foray into cannibalism, Shaun does, surprisingly, learn athing or two from his Super Mutant guardian. Mostly the things a mancan say that will make their fellow man spontaneously shitthemselves. More than a few scrapes with older children ends withShaun bellowing in his closest approximation of Strong; “THIS ISWHAT DEATH LOOKS LIKE UP CLOSE!” Despite Sole’s best efforts, Shauntakes after him, even beyond shouting his throat raw.Many arguments with him end in headbutts. He grows into a young manwho takes no shit from anyone, who understands brutality can be anecessity, and who fights with the feral tenacity of a mutie. Ignoring family protests, he goes into raiding (ever the lucrative business)and is renowned for his uncanny ability to shout down Super Mutantsbands that encroach on his band’s territory. That, or he’s a respectedfighter in the nearest Thorn. Sole might have more influence on hismorals, but Strong passes on the knowledge of Super Mutants. Whichisn’t much beyond violence and shouting. He grows up pretty confused.

[anadriftsoul]

Rebirth

/The trees were like fallen soldiers. The skeletal remains of the proud, the powerful, so old they seemed nearly invincible before the battlefield of winter had taken them to their deaths.

The trees were my constant and only companions in the world of solitude I’d recently self-imposed. One caught my attention in particular. It was standing strong but naked without its spring leaves and armored in withered bark. Rather than collapsed like its timbered comrades, it had taken a final bow, coming to rest in that very image, somehow managing to succumb to the elements with a tragic grace, bent but not broken. God damn it was like staring in a mirror. It was quite something what nature could reflect for a person. Seclusion helped to carve out the details of the surroundings in greater relief than any place busy with distractions. This was the driving force behind my decision to seek it.

Life had found me at a crossroad, one of many predecessors. Some intersections in life were there to teach you how wrong you could be about a person, good and bad. Others were like a little red string, tied around a finger reminding you that despite the twenty-four seven date with oneself, you still had shit to learn.

Anyone who’d ambled through this forest never would have questioned the integrity of the trees nor their staying power but here they were, chopped back down to size by forces they couldn’t combat. It was among these once living giants my truth was blatantly clear.

I’d long thought I’d settled into a way of life I found satisfaction in. Demons, though, have a way of resurfacing where you can’t quite kiss them goodbye. Mine lingered, like an itch you couldn’t scratch. To cope with this internal prey, somewhere along the line I’d unintentionally stopped taking in the details, allowing the edges of my reality to blur. My metaphoric knife needed a sharpening and the evergreens of the Pacific Northwest, were my stone.

I’d fed egregiously before I’d come into the forest, draining human after human before embarking on my walkabout. It wasn’t blood I was after, but energy. I took varying degrees of youth, rage, angst, will power, a dash of confidence, a side of spring in my step, stripping my victims of what had been driving them, leaving them minus the things I had absorbed.  Aside from strapping myself with the extra fortitude, the feedings allowed the fringe benefit of quality time with Mr. Vitamin D himself, hello sunshine. Too long between feedings and I’d have to hit the vein directly, but I preferred not to get energetically emaciated. The atrophy of one’s brain was not at all pleasant, trust.

I was not unused to being on my own; I had been a solo rider for the better part of eighty-five years. My parents had been unfailing companions until their immortality had been robbed in an act of homicide, one that had gone an unsolved. I was only just fifteen. Revisiting that set of memories was well north of unpleasant. Like an old Polaroid, the color had faded but the image would not be erased. Their bodies had been smoldering in their own hearth, their heads on either side of the mantle. My screams had caused a ringing in my own ears. My pursuit for their assassins would not find an end, not without avenging the only family that had ever been mine. Even with my determination, it was unlikely I’d ever find their killers, especially after I’d let my concentration dull. I knew their assailants could only be vampire. And… That. Was. It.

My focus had been sacrificed for far too long in favor of pleasure, indulgence in travel and music and arts and literature and food and sex. I freelanced as a private investigator, solving cold cases.  In the rage of my grief I had found myself an opportunistic sleuth, hence the Jaxon PI gig. Helping others find the closure I couldn’t worked as well as bandages do, covering up the wound, not allowing it to become infected, but not actually doing much for the healing. I had relied on those bandages, lying to myself that I was moving on.

I never had.

The unresolved had the power to surface like bile in the stomach after a bad meal. One day I woke up, eyes wide open to the realization that all my movement actually had left me standing still. I was no closer to the truth than I had been the day I’d let it all fall to my subconscious and also no less alone. I hit another crossroad, this one telling me to go back three spaces and find that closure I’d lied to myself about possessing. Facing all that, to put it bluntly, sucked, but what else could be expected with reopening wounds. It also left me with a bitter aftertaste for allowing the trail to grow not just cold, but downright polar.

This restart would be out of the fray and modern day distractions. The world was too far gone into virtual reality and it took a shit ton of efforting to concentrate on the real deal. John Muir knew what he was doing, that man was a sage.

I walked right into those trees, minus a map and purposely lost the trail. As my resistance to the sun’s companionship started to diminish just three days into my walkabout, I’d found myself in that field full of fallen troops. Fixated on their various states and arrangements, I moved from tree to tree, taking time with each one, letting imagination tell me their fictional stories and how they had met their end. It was in a particularly dense section a flash of light had caught my eye. Hidden among the overgrowth was an abandoned cabin. Boarded up and barely discernible, clearly the forest had been working on reclaiming it. Damn, nature was fucking fantastic. Gut instinct hit with a force that nearly knocked me silly. I hadn’t known I’d been looking for it, but somehow the place had found me. Completely out of the fray and off the grid, it called out to me, “Welcome home, Jaxon.”

I set to work without delay, clearing the brush to see what I had to work with. Whoever had left the place clearly had no intentions of returning. It was a shell, for certain, but the foundation was solid and it even had a working well, not to mention solar panels. Five out of the six were busted and needed replacing; I’d have to get them on the first trip back to the city.

The inside of the three bedroom was caked with about ten years worth of dust and an entire universe of cobwebs.  It was sparsely equipped with a few necessities but not a lick of furniture.  Someone had lived here at some point and they’d had to have hauled shit away which meant I could come back with what I needed to make this homestead all my own.

With a reluctance and an inner voice crying out it was “too soon” I made a trip back to plugged in, concrete reality a few days later. I had a mental list of what was needed, and the walk out provided me enough time to navigate how in the hell I was going to return with construction supplies because I was damn sure Home Depot wasn’t delivering. The strength of twenty men on my side, the clever trick would be accessing the trail without notice considering a new mattress would be part of the loot. Cloak of night it would be.

I’d liked to have said I only picked up the necessities, but it would be a whopping lie, considering I’d grabbed my record player and about five hundred out of ten thousand of my vinyl sweethearts, some books and a decent amount of food. No television or computer though, I was going unplugged. I fed again, this time tapping the human’s vein, not because I’d gone too long, but because it would allow me the luxury of working under the sun. Blood gave me a day pass the canopy of trees could not. I’d have a good two weeks, give or take a few days.

It took about twice as long as the trip into town to get back with what equated to enough shit to fill a truck bed, but it was worth the hassle not to have to make two. I was itching to be away from the confines of modernity; somehow I had become trapped by a world that was wide open.

First order of business was setting in the solar panels so I could run more than just the fridge. My laughs echoed in the trees at the awareness the very beast that could kill me was going to provide me electricity. Sunshine, so fickle.

It had been a long ass time since I had worked with my hands and I was savoring every busted knuckle and blood sacrifice my project claimed. I was digging the outdoor shower, which needed a few alterations to accommodate those times I had to stay out of the sun.

After the outside was addressed in the span of a week, I worked on making the inside a lot more livable, first up was building a bed frame for the monster mattress that I’d hauled for miles off trail, still wrapped in its plastic.

The interior I banged out in a day and it was then and only then I allowed myself to celebrate with a scalding shower, half a bottle of good vodka to my head and some vinyl spinning under the needle with the windows wide open to all that piney, fresh air.

I had nowhere to be, no one to answer to. Lost to the world, I only hoped I would find myself./

[siverwrites]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Alma/Jowd, Alma/Cabanela/Jowd Characters: Cabanela (Ghost Trick), Jowd (Ghost Trick), Alma (Ghost Trick) Additional Tags: Fluff, Wedding Fluff Word Count: 6244 Summary:

'The guests’ clapping rang distant in Cabanela’s ears as he watched the loving couple break apart, fingers still entwined. A warmth filled him, drowning the thoughts trying to seep out from their corner. His Jowd and Alma, a pair, a precious unit. Gods, they were beautiful.' Jowd and Alma's wedding. Chicken. A proud, pining peacock. Lots of fluff. An overhaul and greatly expanded version (approaching twice the length) of With this Ring with a new title (as the old one no longer fits)

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The day had come at last. In some ways it felt like a life time ago that they proposed, and in others it was as if hardly any time had passed at all. Now their wedding had arrived.

Alma had been sitting in her old room enjoying a moment of peace until the time came. Then Cabanela whirled in, beamed at her dress, frowned at her hair and promptly shooed her back to the mirror. What exactly it was that bothered him, she couldn’t say, but she’d always been better with the clothing side of things. And, as the past several weeks taught her, it was better to just let him get on with things.

She tried not to fidget as Cabanela’s fingers worked skillfully through her hair, tucking a tendril here, making small adjustments there. Honestly, she thought, he was fussier than any bridesmaid, stylist or possibly in this case even, though she would spare him that, her grandmother.

“Doesn’t Jowd need your help?” Alma asked.

“Not aaanymore unless his tie got the better of him again. He’s either impossible or easy. Not much to do either way.”

They caught each other’s eye in the mirror and his sparkled with amusement.

“Or?”

“I’ll pop by again and see!” Cabanela said cheerily.

Alma smiled and returned her attention to keeping her hands still and not wrinkling her dress. Cabanela backed up and with one last critical look, tossed himself onto the corner of the bed where he settled, crossing one leg over the other.

“What’s eatin’ you, baby?”

Ah. She should have known all her efforts would be in vain.

“Not really any one thing in particular.” She laughed. “I guess it just finally hit that this is happening now.”

After all the flurry of activity to think it was all down to this day and then it would be over. While she often felt she had little to do but agree or disagree with decisions, so many decisions, so many propositions, it was dizzying all the same. And, of course, keeping Cabanela and her grandmother from biting each other’s heads off was an exhausting task in itself.

And what of their other private plan?

“All of this and now it feels like it’s almost over before it’s begun. And I’m… I guess I am more nervous than I expected.”

“Only natural so I’ve been told,” Cabanela replied.

“Yes… And I am excited! Your work wasn’t in vain, but I’m looking forward to after as well.” She smiled fondly. “When we can move forward.”

“The looovely first step to a new life, nothing like it, baby!”

Did his gaze flicker away there? The briefest of falters in that smile? Or was she only letting worry colour her imagination? Perhaps they’d missed a clear fault in their plan.

One fluid motion carried Cabanela to his feet and now he stood over her. He took her hand in both of his and held her gaze.

“And I can’t imagine a more beautiful match.”

Almost, she thought to herself, but before she could say anything Cabanela released her.

“Best go make sure the groom isn’t in trouble!” he said and spun on his heel to leave the room.

Alma watched him saunter out. Astonishing – so candid in some ways, outrageously so, and yet so reserved in others.

Jowd stared out the living room window, the fancy clock above the mantle ticking uncomfortably loud in his ears. It would be time to go soon and an unusual tide of nerves quietly swelled below the surface. Nerves yes, however it would also be a relief to go (if his best man ever came back down from helping Alma). The odd combination of stiffness and fervent activity that occupied this room and the whole house only grew more difficult to deal with each passing day since they’d arrived three days prior.

It had been easier to stay with Alma’s family and they were far closer to both the park for the ceremony and hall for the party. He greatly looked forward to returning home. To get away from the last minute chaos of planning. It would be a great relief to bring Alma home, to sink back into their routine.

He smiled. A new routine just for them.

Naturally he was happy for this day. And, he appreciated Cabanela’s tireless efforts and keeping to their wishes for something smaller than grandiose with a skill well outside of Jowd’s understanding.

‘Are you sure being a cop is your calling?’

‘Detective, excuse youuu.’

‘My apologies, future detective.’

How he’d managed to pull it all off while also fending off certain relative’s demands on top of his duties was beyond him. And the thought of the immense sulk that would result from not going through with it was as unbearable as the preparations leading up to this day. But it truly was afterward he was looking forward to, building a life together, just being together.

“Yoo hooo. Oh Jooowd, wedding bells are callin’, baby!”

Speaking of their planner, Jowd pulled himself away from the window and found himself under the steady scrutiny of Cabanela.

“Well?” Jowd prompted when Cabanela’s gaze seemed to last a little too long. “Do I pass muster?”

“Loook at that,” Cabanela said, voice softer than Jowd expected. “Still in one piece.”

He twirled around to join Jowd at his side and slung an arm around his shoulder.

“Bein’ a rock does have its uses!” he said brightly. “I should tell Alma the good news. One dreeeary mess traded for something presentable!”

Jowd eyed the man beside him, tall, elegant in a long black tail coat adorned with silver buttons. Ever the proud peacock that one.

“Standing next to your sparkling self who would notice a crooked tie?”

Cabanela cocked his head, mock suspicion clear on his face. “That almost sounds like flattery. What’s the price?”

“I have to do something to make up for my absence. Maybe you’ll go easy on me!”

“Don’t wooorry, baby. I’ll catch a crook for you, hand out some parking tickets. Got you covered!”

Jowd chuckled and let Cabanela guide him out of the room.

Their arrival at the park showed them tidy rows of seats on the grass, a simple, elegant arch and it seemed to Jowd a few more flowers around than initial plans dictated.

The weather was holding out, warm and breezy without being too hot and they were further shaded under a large oak tree. As he adjusted his collar, while avoiding the looks of the guests, he prayed it would stay that way. He had been fine on their way over. Now he was here, with nothing to do but wait – there had been a great deal of waiting – he felt rather like an overdressed chicken on display.

At least, he thought, he had company, and with that thought he looked back at Cabanela. In body anyway. The man’s look was a million miles away and if it was one of plotting, it wasn’t any look Jowd had seen before.

“Hey,” he said in a low voice. Cabanela seemed to snap back into himself. Odd.

“Hmm?”

“How long?”

Cabanela smiled, looking more himself. “Couple minutes, baby.”

Jowd nodded and passed a last searching look over him. He was at ease once more as if nothing had happened and there were no answers to be found there.

Cabanela noted the searching look and waited until Jowd turned away before letting loose a small frown. He had more than enough time and practice pushing unwanted thoughts to the farthest corner of his mind where they wouldn’t be a bother to anyone, including himself. This was the last day for such thoughts. Not the time, never the time.

He couldn’t be happier for them. There was no arguing that point. It was only… it was just… he would be relieved when the wedding kicked off proper and he could slide back into his role. A good role. An easy role, over here in support for his best of friends.

Only a couple minutes more.

He flexed his fingers and carefully unleashed his tension one muscle at a time. Relax.

Something it appeared Jowd was now failing at, judging by the rigid back. He’d been doing so well too.

Cabanela leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Looosen up baby. You look ready to keel over. I don’t belieeeve Alma signed up to marry a stiff.”

Jowd shifted and dropped his shoulders. “She knows what she signed up for,” he murmured back.

Cabanela cast his gaze to the heavens. A victory was a victory no matter how small in a losing battle. A nervous rock was marginally better than a stunned rooster.

The music started and Cabanela and Jowd turned as one to see Alma at the opposite end of the aisle formed by the rows of seats.

Alma took a deep breath and proceeded to start her walk. She had to suppress a chuckle at the sight ahead of her: Jowd, his eyes fixed on her, but his nerves standing out clearly in his stiff posture, in perfect contrast to Cabanela’s beaming pride.

Her procession ended faster than she anticipated and she found herself standing opposite Jowd.

“Relax honey,” she whispered. “I don’t recall anything about a stiff on the papers.”

She blinked at Cabanela’s rather smug smirk and Jowd snorted into his beard, earning all three of them a raised eyebrow and a pointedly polite clearing of the throat from the officiant.

“We are gathered here…”

Alma let the officiant’s words wash over her as she found her attention drifting away to focus on her husband-to-be. Friend, husband, partner. It hadn’t always been easy getting to this point, but the result was more than worth every step of the journey.

It hit her at times how easy it would have been to miss this, how easy it would have been for this day to never happen. A chance meeting, the right timing, and somehow things seemed to flow from there. And before she knew it she had not just one wonderful friend, but two. Before she knew it life swept them up and friendship turned into so much more.

She couldn’t be happier.

“Now bring forth the rings,” the officiant announced, pulling Alma from her thoughts and reminiscence.

Cabanela stepped forward, both rings laid out on the palm of his hand. Alma took hers first and Jowd noticed how her fingers lingered over his and how his seemed to tighten before she pulled away.

Once Alma stepped back Jowd reached for his, watching Cabanela’s expression. His joy was clear in those glittering eyes and the curve of his lips, but there was something else there, something he couldn’t get a fix on. He thought he’d learned to read Cabanela’s moods, but this one was a firmly closed book.  

As he took the ring he felt a muscle twitch in Cabanela’s hand, but his expression remained unchanged. Perhaps more than one relief would come after the end.

Cabanela stepped aside with a nod and a wink. This particular message was clear: Your turn.

Jowd nodded back. Message received. Unneeded, but read loud and clear.

He turned to face Alma, his breath catching. This was real. He took her hand, other thoughts sliding away as he drank in the sight of her. An exchange of rings and vows, the words falling out easily:

“I give you this ring, as a reminder, that I will love, honour, and cherish you. In all times, in all places. And in all ways, forever. For you, my beloved.”

“You may kiss the bride,” the officiant announced.

Jowd swooped Alma into his arms. Their surroundings faded as Alma filled Jowd’s world. He held her gently and poured every thought and care he could never put words to into that kiss and hoped she understood. When they parted, slightly breathless, after what felt like an eternity in the span of seconds, he saw in her shining eyes he had succeeded.

The guests’ clapping rang distant in Cabanela’s ears as he watched the loving couple break apart, fingers still entwined. A warmth filled him, drowning the thoughts trying to seep out from their corner. His Jowd and Alma, a pair, a precious unit. Gods, they were beautiful.

Alma met his gaze and Jowd followed suit. His breath caught in his throat. They wore a similar expression of warmth and care and… something he didn’t dare attempt to fathom. The moment passed quickly, leaving him stunned, while arms interlocked, the pair made their way back down the aisle to lead the party to the reception hall.

Cabanela lingered, overseeing the guests’ departure, until the last were gone, then followed after with every intention of slipping into the reception hall to take his place. Instead he found Alma and Jowd waiting outside the doors.

Alma caught his arm and pulled him to her.

“Thank you for everything,” she said before embracing him.

Cabanela returned the hug, possibly a little tighter than he intended, yet expecting to break if off at any moment. Instead Jowd wrapped his large arms around them both.

It was a perfect moment, a perfect fit, and one that ended much too soon even as his thoughts erupted into a whirlwind of rapidly denied hopes and possible meanings he couldn’t bring himself to entertain. They pulled away, hands lingering over one another.

“Weeell,” Cabanela announced brightly, covering his disappointment. Back to the corner, thoughts, back. He made a broad gesture at the door. “Shall I announce the entrance of our looovely bride and groom?”

Horror flashed across Jowd’s face and Alma laughed.

“I’d like a moment alone with Jowd,” she said. “Go on without us.”

“I can give you lovebirds some alone time, but don’t take too long or you’ll owe me for facin’ your grandmother’s wrath,” Cabanela said and he grinned at the wince from Jowd.

Alma watched Cabanela swing into the hall with a frown, and waited until the doors closed.

“I’m worried we’ve made a mistake,” she said softly. “I don’t think our brilliant detective gets it yet. I suppose after how busy everything has been I can’t blame him. I only thought he would have figured it out… even guessed at our plans by now.”

“He must know,” Jowd replied, but an edge of uncertainty hovered in his voice.

“Knowing and accepting aren’t always the same.” She folded her arms and looked worriedly at the door. “He’s always so… so present and certain, it never occurred to me that he would think he has any need for fear.”

“It’ll be over tonight,” Jowd said.

“I just… I want him to be happy today. He did so much for us.”

“He is,” Jowd said firmly. “I may not always know what’s going through that head of his, but I know when he’s being genuine.”

“Right…” Alma looked at the doors. “And I suppose we’d better get in there before he genuinely follows through on his threat.”

Jowd eyed the doors as well with a grimace and Alma laughed.

“Ready to go in, my brave husband?” her tease faded as she savoured the word.

“I suppose we’d better before your grandmother flays us all alive.”

Jowd offered Alma his arm and they entered together. Cabanela stood by their seats, leaning down a bit to chat amiably with Alma’s mother. Jowd found himself suddenly both starving and greatly looking forward to the more peaceful moment food and the guests’ occupation with it and each other would bring.

Of course dinner was a noisy affair and the hall filled with a cheerful hum. Sitting with Alma on one side and Cabanela on the other, Jowd realized he was perfectly content with it all.

He reached for his glass, his arm brushing against Cabanela. He felt more than saw Cabanela stiffen before he reached for his own glass with an overly casual air. Not fooling anyone here, partner.

Jowd frowned. Maybe Alma was right to worry. The number of off moments was growing through the day and he wondered how many slipped by in the previous chaos as well.

“Something wrooong with the chicken?” Cabanela drawled.

“Could use ketchup,” Jowd replied.

Alma wrinkled her nose and Cabanela leaned forward to look around at her with a jab of his fork at Jowd’s plate.

“You suuure this is what you wanna marry into, baby?”

“A burden I’ll just have to bear,” Alma said lightly with a mock sigh.

Jowd laughed and let their jests cover his concerns. Their conversation remained merry amidst the buzz of chatter and clinking of silverware until the meal was over and it was time for the speech and toast.

“It’s not too late to stop him,” Jowd said to Alma and chuckled at Cabanela’s show of haughtiness.

“Not too late for some last minute revisions either baby,” Cabanela replied as he rose from his seat and called for attention.

He knew his speech well and it tumbled out effortlessly: nods and smiles from the guests, growing confusion at comments meant only for Jowd and Alma, Alma snorting into her drink, Jowd’s beard quivering with a laugh, and an exchange of smiles until he brought it back around to its end.

“And I am proud and honoured to call Jowd and Alma my dear,” he hesitated and the pause seemed to stretch before him infinitely. Not a problem. Juggle the words, a dramatic pause in a deliberate grand gesture, “…and most valuable,” he placed a hand on each of their shoulders, “friends.”

He stepped back and retrieved his glass in a broad sweep. “And so, a toast to our beauuutiful bride and groom! Love,” he raised his glass, caught Jowd’s eye and finished in a softer tone, “nothing like it.”

When he returned to his seat, he spotted the exchanged knowing look between Alma and Jowd and he couldn’t help the feeling that while he may have fooled the guests there was one pair here who saw right through him. Alas, they’d always been best at it.

The sudden desire to fade and slip away seized him. See them off to the dance floor, see his part complete and make a retreat. He was done. They didn’t need him here. Returning to the solitude of home seemed, if not exactly appealing, a safer route.

It would be simple. He could make the quick jaunt to Alma’s family home, leave a message, and call a cab. It would be expensive at this distance, but it seemed of little relevance. It would be a relief, wouldn’t it? The crowded room suddenly felt too stifling. So easy to end, yet he was caught between choices, caught in a web of his own making and how long had he let this happen?

“Cabanela?”

Jowd’s voice. He looked up to find himself now pinned to his chair under the couple’s warm gazes.

He couldn’t leave them. How could he? On this night of nights? This final night before everything changed.

He was ready for that change. He was, he was.

No, there was nothing more to do now but continue the quick one-two step to cover his tracks.

“Are you all right?” Alma asked. Worry coloured her tone and expression.

No, no, that wouldn’t do at all. He was better than this and he would only give them the best. He leaned forward resting his chin on one hand and grinned at Jowd.

“Only eyein’ the time. Ready for that daaance?”

It was about time, thank the gods for that. If his speech stumble told him anything it was that the jubilant atmosphere, the combined scents of perfumes, flowers and champagne, and the luminous presence of his – the bride and groom – had become too heady even for him. Yes, only that. Convenient and logical. Best to lose it all to the simple rhythms of the dance floor.

Jowd shook his head. “I was until reminded.”

“Be kind,” Alma said. “My toes came away unscathed last time.”

Cabanela’s hand hesitated over his champagne before he quickly switched to his water. Any more alcohol held far too much risk now.

“And a miracle it was!” he chirped, raising his glass to Jowd. “Nooothing like a magical night to repeat it. And I do beliiieve…” He peered across the hall and spotted the signal that the band was prepared. “They are ready.”

He hopped up. This was the way. This was a dance he could dance without any effort at all.

“Laaadies and gentlemen! If you’ll kindly lend your attention to the dance floor, it’s time for our happy couple’s first dance!”

Jowd and Alma rose to their feet. Cabanela bowed low with a wide sweep of his arm as a guide to the dance floor. He peeked up at Jowd’s face where one message was written plain as day: Help me.

You’re fiiine.

The music began as Alma took Jowd’s arm and they moved out to the floor. Jowd let Alma take the lead and even he had to admit they were off to a smooth start. However, it wasn’t long before Jowd found himself casting his eyes in Cabanela’s direction for reassurance. He knew this; they’d practiced and yet it seemed the floor had drained all past knowledge and turned his feet to lead.

Cabanela only nodded in Alma’s direction. Follow her lead.

I’m doomed.

He only got clear amusement and a shake of his head in return. Very helpful.

He spun Alma and caught her, flowing into the next step of their dance.

“You’re doing well,” she murmured.

So he was until he realized she was going in a direction he wasn’t expecting. What was supposed to come next?

A slight head tilt from Cabanela. To the left. A raised eyebrow. Don’t make me come over there.

Please do.

Only a barely concealed laugh in reply. Thankfully other couples soon joined them and he relaxed a bit.

“There,” Alma said, her eyes sparkling, “not so bad was it?”

“I believe that depends on your definition of bad.”

Alma grinned. “In relative terms?”

“Ha!”

Alma kept Jowd for the second dance, which went better, and the third, and if it wasn’t for taking pity on him and the need to still give another her attention, she would have been most happy to keep him all night.

She let Jowd retreat back to the tables and glided after him to stop by Cabanela, who to her surprise still lingered there. Here she thought she’d have to steal him away from any number of other dance partners.

“I still owe you a dance.” She held out a hand. “May I?”

Cabanela took her hand with a bow and beamed at her. “It would be my pleasure.”

They moved as one across the dance floor, whirling in a heady embrace. He dipped her and she thought to herself that it was rather a good thing he held her so securely or she might melt to the floor in utter contentment.

Their eyes met. His mouth thinned, but before she could react she was upright once more, he was all smiles and their dance continued as if nothing happened. She tried to search his face for any clues toward his thoughts and found nothing.

The song faded. Before she let him depart she reached up to cup his cheek and kissed the other. The gesture wasn’t as much as she wanted. She hoped it would do for now. Cabanela blinked, but any further expression was covered by an elaborate bow before they parted to whisk away other partners.

Suspicions confirmed.

Oh sweetie, I’ve never known you to be so blind.

Jowd was perfectly content to sit back and watch as Alma and Cabanela danced across the floor. He noted the kiss and smiled into his drink. She always had been the more forward one. Something, Cabanela once pointed out, was a very good thing or they might never have gotten anywhere.

Even apart, it seemed to him, they still moved in sync. Though, he noted with a quiet laugh, Cabanela maintained his distance from Alma’s grandmother. No surprise there. She had arrived, a disapproving organizational force to be reckoned with, and then met Cabanela: a clear case of an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. As to who was what was not a debate he was willing to engage in.

Thanks for taking the heat off my back. He knew she still didn’t approve of his marriage with her granddaughter (he privately wondered if there was anything the woman approved of), however Cabanela proved a difficult distraction to ignore.

He had thrown himself completely into the wedding planning right up to the last minute details of today. Jowd hadn’t given it much thought. When they settled on a date Cabanela offered his assistance and ‘no’ hadn’t been an option. He wasn’t one to do things in small measures – never had been, Jowd mused. A carefree demeanour wrapped around a fierce intensity from the day he met him.

He passed his drink an amused smile. It hadn’t been the most favourable of first impressions. The man whirled into the lecture hall, loudly greeted anyone who would listen and tossed himself into a seat with such force Jowd had been surprised it didn’t tip over. He found himself surprised the man didn’t put his feet up on the desk right then and there and he very quickly found himself irritated with his airy conversations rapidly flitting from person to person around him. Uncharitable he knew, but he wrote him off as someone unlikely to last, all flash and little substance.

Only to be proven wrong with a quick wit and knowledgeable answers as fast as the crack of a whip.

He was a force of nature around campus, getting into everything and seeming to know everyone. Yet for all his good cheer and friendliness he was like a whirlwind, sweeping people briefly into his wake without ever getting close to anyone. He found it… odd. Even stranger was how he got caught in that whirlwind and was never released.

He had no idea how it happened, from distaste, to the occasional conversation, from not seeing him much outside of class for days until he was suddenly at his side chatting amiably about some new restaurant he found and why not grab dinner? Until the time spent together grew more and more regular and he found himself in a close friendship he could never have imagined.

Then he met Alma and two quickly became three. Before he knew it, he and Alma were dating, egged on by Cabanela himself, Cabanela who had become and remained a fixture in their lives.

Now they were here.

No small measures. After today and Alma’s comments, he started to wonder if there was more to it. Between the organization and heading off the unwanted demands of certain members of the family combined with their regular police work, Cabanela kept himself extraordinarily busy. It was only in the quiet moments signs of any cracks showed. Those were kept few and far between until today. Jowd got the impression he was bracing himself for something and his own words echoed back to him: he must know. Didn’t he?

Whatever the case a conclusion would be reached tonight and Jowd greatly looked forward to getting their quiet lives back, for a certain measure of quiet where work and Cabanela were concerned.

Alma parted from the swirling dance and sunk into the seat beside Jowd. She leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Are you going to hide over here all night?” she teased.

He looked down at her affectionately and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Doesn’t seem like a bad idea.”

“You can get away with it for now I suppose,” she replied as she settled against him.

Together they watched the dance floor and shared a laugh as Cabanela continued to pirouette across it, leaving a trail of winded dancers in his wake.

Then he too broke away and waltzed over to the pair.

“We’re missin’ the staaars of the show!”

Alma still leaned on Jowd, eyes closed. She peeked an eye open with a half glance at Jowd. “What do you say? Can you manage a last dance?”

“I suppose if I must,” he replied, his feeble protest lost in a smile.

Alma and Jowd stood. Cabanela appeared ready to toss himself into a seat, but Alma gripped his arm.

“You’re coming too. You can’t leave me with Mr. Two Left Feet again.”

“Ah, no rest for the wicked. Still need a guiiide?”

Alma inwardly sighed. “With us,” she said firmly.

She took both their arms and dragged them to the floor.

Jowd and Alma started, mirrored by Cabanela. They went through a few steps before Jowd spun Alma away and Cabanela caught her with a twirl. She let him lead for a measure before she stepped around him and nudged him playfully toward Jowd. Without missing a beat Cabanela caught hold of Jowd and they flowed into the next steps.

Alma stepped back to watch them with a wide smile. She couldn’t help but notice Cabanela drawing closer to Jowd at their next step. Their hands rested easily at each other’s backs and his stare fixed on Jowd’s face. She could back right off, she thought. Let them have this. Would they even notice? Unfortunately, before she could decide, Cabanela pulled back, extended an arm and, still holding Jowd’s hand, pulled her back in to rejoin them.

Some of the other dancers started watching, unnoticed by the trio. They were immersed in their own bubble of joy, spinning here and there, linking hands, passing each other off to one another before coming back together in a circle.

Then the song faded, the last of the evening and the party wound down at last. Jowd and Alma saw to thanking and seeing their guests off. And before they all knew it, they stood outside Jowd’s car in the cool night air and it was over.

The car felt strangely quiet after the boisterous night. Alma had slid into the back with a vague mumble about space for her dress and after a brief pause Cabanela opted for the front where eyes would be focused on the road.

Streetlamps flashed by in the dark, a steady monotony and Cabanela let his thoughts wander. A beautiful day and he would hold onto those smiles for a long time to come. Now it was time to go home. He’d make a cup of tea, get some sleep, and take care of neglected errands tomorrow. Prepare for work. Business as usual.

Cabanela frowned at the familiar streets they passed through and shot a look at Jowd.

“Must be gettin’ tired. You missed the turn.”

“Going home first,” Jowd said.

Jowd’s eyes were fixed on the road and it was too dark to make out much in the way of an expression anyway. Cabanela felt some of the tension he thought he left on the dance floor sink in. This wasn’t the plan.

They were supposed to drop him off and he would see them off into the sunset… or moonlight as it were – the point still stood. He craved the privacy of his home where he could bask in the afterglow of a job well done and pull himself back together, reorganize without interference.

But they were planning something and he’d been willfully ignoring it all day, as if he’d ever had any reason to doubt himself or his instincts before.

Was it possible to play one’s roles too well?

They pulled up to the house. Jowd exited and circled around to help Alma out. Before Cabanela could question him, he marched off toward the house without a word leaving him with Alma.

“You’re runnin’ out of your speeecial night,” Cabanela commented. So what exactly was he doing here?

Alma hushed him, looped her arm around his and herded him through their front door and to the sofa, all while wearing a smile Cabanela couldn’t find meaning in.

He wouldn’t say no to those welcoming cushions. Cabanela folded into the sofa and the simple act of doing so and being here drained away some of his tension. However, it wasn’t long before a different sort of tension replaced it. What were they up to?

“Haaappy to help with the wedding,” he said, “but playin’ chaperone is goin’ a bit faaar, isn’t it?”

Alma only shook her head, still wearing that mysterious smile.

They were playing some sort of game. He may not know these particular rules yet, but he could play the waiting game. He leaned back into the couch cushions and silently tapped out a rhythm against his thigh. Alma remained standing near and silent.

It didn’t take long before Jowd re-entered, holding a small and elegant white box. He would appear most solemn if Cabanela didn’t recognise the spark in his eyes or the twitch of his beard. A private joke.

Alma and Jowd exchanged a nod – a private joke between them – before Jowd knelt in front of Cabanela, Alma at Jowd’s side with a hand on his shoulder.

A joke, or something so much more. This wasn’t… they weren’t…

“We talked about a ring,” Jowd said.

Cabanela froze.

“But we both thought it wasn’t really your style and I caught you eyeing this.”

Jowd held out the box and he and Alma spoke together. “For you, our beloved.”

The familiar line carried away the rest of his scattering thoughts with it. He reached out automatically to take the box. All else was forgotten (including his ability to breathe it seemed) as he lifted the lid revealing a silver locket. It had caught his eye, though he never expected Jowd to notice – he’d have to keep a closer eye on him.

He ran a finger across the disk, not trusting his voice.

“Open it,” Alma prompted.

He searched for the groove, hard to see, but there, while admiring the item’s craft as a whole. It opened easily and he wondered if he would ever be able to speak again for the rest of this strange night when he saw the picture within. The three of them, on a day out they’d taken, a wonderful, joyous day.

He closed it with a questioning look at the pair who nodded, and he lifted it out of its box completely, letting the lamp light glint off the silver disk. A pretty thing and if he could remember how to attach meaning to words, so much more.

He settled for simple, light words that would serve as an easy cover for encroaching deeper concerns.

“A looovely thing. Not quite sure it goes with this suit,” he said. Or this day, their day or…

“Oh I don’t know,” Alma said as she perched daintily on the arm of the sofa. She surveyed him, her eyes suddenly professional as if he was a client. “With the right adjustments I think we can make it work.”

She leaned over and ran a hand down his suit jacket before unbuttoning it and nudging it open. With far less professional, and far more tantalizing fingers, she slowly undid the top buttons of his shirt.

Jowd circled around the back and lifted the necklace from his fingers. His hands were warm in contrast to the cool metal as he fastened the chain around his neck. He remained, his thumb rubbing against tense muscles.

Alma exchanged a glance with Jowd before she passed a thoughtful look over Cabanela and nodded with satisfaction.

“Perfect.”

He couldn’t easily look back at Jowd as was and wasn’t about to shake off that touch just yet, but Alma was still in his sights.

“I wouldn’t want to…” Gods how had it become so difficult to finish a sentence?

Alma shook her head with a gentle smile and spoke in a soft voice. “You’re not. You belong with us, if you’ll have us.”

His fingers brushed over the locket – the source of this sudden upheaval, yet strangely grounding for it.

“Sure knooow how to make a surprise,” he managed.

Alma’s smile widened and she leaned closer, her face now close to his. The question in her eyes was clear and before he could think twice he nodded.

Her lips closed over his, gentle and more welcoming than any kiss he’d known. Let it never be said he couldn’t put up a good showing and he tried his best through his still whirling thoughts (this was happening, this was actually happening) to reciprocate, even while he was still acutely aware of Jowd’s hand at his back.

They parted and Alma returned to her previous position, settling more securely on the couch arm while Jowd leaned over.

“Is that a yes?” he asked.

Cabanela’s mouth curved, no longer able to hold back the spreading smile. He tugged at Jowd’s tie bringing him within reach where he could get a kiss to those pair of lips as well. His beard tickled in sharp contrast to Alma’s softness, glorious and no less welcome. The last of his concerns melted away leaving only a vague thought to add kissing to the list of unexpected things Jowd was good at.

They broke apart when the need for air won out and Cabanela looked between the couple, his couple.

“I’d saaay so, baby.”

First step to a new life indeed.

[jugggheadjoness]

ink-stained arguments // reggie mantle soulmate au pt3

Ink-Stained Arguments (Part three to Ink-Stained Skin)

Ink-Stained Masterlist

words: 1.4k

Summary: Who said soulmates were an easy thing to figure out?

Masterlist

(A/N: sorry this took like 6524290 years, thx for waiting!)

He often wondered how it worked. Questioning why the words they wrote appeared on the other’s skin but the makeup she wore never appeared on his face, the lipstick didn’t paint his lips a shade of plum and his eyelids didn’t turn pink. Yet, he was able to feel the heat grow on her face when she got embarrassed. As he sat, watching her apply her makeup, he waited to feel the force of the beauty blender-as she had told him on multiple occasions-against his face but yet felt nothing. Despite being a self-claimed cocky person, he couldn’t help but doubt where he stood in (Y/N)’s life. Whether he was linked to her for platonic purposes or for romantic purposes.

Ever since he was a child, he would always use the eye colour international percentage as a percentage for the soulmate bonds. He knew his link with his soulmate was rare with less than two percent, much like those with green eyes, of the world having the bond, making it rarer to come across your soulmate. Riverdale, on the other hand, had roughly twelve set of emotionally and physically bonded soulmates. Thirteen if he counted himself and (Y/N).

He found it odd. (Y/N) was the one who was so hesitant about the idea of the two of them, but somehow the tables had turned. He found himself doubting whether she truly wanted to be with him. He found himself doubting nearly everything.

“So how’s Mantle?” Kevin nudged her, as (Y/N) sat gazing straight ahead, eyes focused on her dog, content as he rolled around on the freshly mowed grass

When (Y/N) didn’t answer, Kevin took it upon himself to assume something was not right. “He’s fine, thanks for asking about me.” a voice broke from behind them. “Are you ready to go (L/N)?”

“I, uh, look, Reg, something came up, Archie needs me for s-something.” she stuttered, pushing herself up before shouting for her dog to follow her.

“Did I do something? She told me to meet her here.”

“Don’t take it personally, she’s barely uttered a word to me since yesterday. Archie might know something.”

She let he head rest on Archie’s lap as he ran his fingers through her hair, a smile painted on his face as she frowned at the thoughts that ran through her mind. “I told him I wanted to take it slow but he’s starting to act, I don’t know, hesitant?”

“Unlike you, I can’t feel what my soulmate feels and we can’t communicate in the cool way you can, so I’m really no help, but maybe ask him about it.”

She snapped up from her previous position and squinted at her best friend, challenging him to continue with what he was saying. Almost as it was instinct, his hands shot up, surrendering instantly. “Stupid idea, I know.” he grinned “Maybe, he’s acting like that because you’re treating him like he’s me.”

“I-I just want to take it slow, he may taunt Juggy and act like a dick but ” she let out a frustrated groan before lying back down, once again, using Archie as a pillow “I don’t know, Arch. I give up. This is why I didn’t want him to know until after graduation.”

“Don’t get mouthy because you’re a klutz.” Archie scoffed “I love you but you’re so stubborn. Anyways, Reg has written to you, stop panicking.”

She frowned looking at the words on her arm:

‘Need to talk, outside ur house-Reg x’

She frowned, pushing herself up and pulling Archie up with her “You are taking me home to speak to him and then we are going out for pizza after.”

He couldn’t help but feel nervous all of sudden, like his chest had tightened but for some reason he couldn’t find a reason for the feeling. It felt random as if it was second hand; he hadn’t figured it out yet. That the dread he felt on the inside was her emotions coming through to him.

She felt her heartbeat quicken the moment he came into her line of sight. He pushed himself up and gave her a grin, despite her being metres away from him. “I was starting to think you were just going to leave me out here.”

“Never.”

The words rang through his head, much like the school bells signalling the end of a period. A word that once used to impact him negatively, now full of positive connotations, the day she wrote finally wrote back to him after years of him attempting reflected through her words.

“I came here prepared with all the things I wanted to say. I wanted to say, that it didn’t feel right and that maybe you were correct when you said that we were just platonic soulmates but fuck that because every time I see you, my heart does this thing were it just skips a beat and I don’t know, this is unbelievably cheesy and I’m Reggie Mantle, I’m not known for cheesy. You, (Y/N), you leave me speechless without even trying. I guess what I’m trying to say is that give us a chance.”

(Y/N) sighed before looking up to meet Reggie’s eyes. “I want to so badly but when you feel like that. Your hesitation is stronger than your so called liking for me, I can feel it even when we’re miles apart. We should take it slow, Reginald, because whether we like it or not, we’re bound for life. You’re my other half.”

“So, why are you pushing me away?” His hands ran through his hair, tugging on his roots slightly to show her his frustration. “I can feel this pull towards you but you seem to repel me like I disgust you.”

“I’m not trying to argue with you, Reginald.” she sighed “I don’t repel you because I want to, you’re the one pushing yourself away. I can feel it, Reg. I’ll speak to you later.”

He opened his mouth to argue, he wanted to tell her to stay and explain what she meant but instead he found no words nor sound came out and instead he stayed silent.

Her gaze stayed forward, focusing on her finishing line, Archie stood by the car door, ready to engulf her into a hug. His face dropping as he saw the anger emit from his best friend. The anger he saw was none like he had ever seen before-a mixture of volatile and overwhelmed anger-that he himself could not pinpoint it.

“She walked away, Moose, what else was I supposed to do?” he sighed, following it with a groan that only made his friends roll their eyes.

“Tell her to stop acting like a toddler.” Chuck grinned “Or even better, if she won’t, tell her to take it to the bedroom.”

Moose and Reggie looked at each other, smirking as the pair simultaneously smacked Chuck around the back of the head “Don’t be such a kinky shit.”

“Dude, shut the fuck up, my girl, who, by the way, has only just gotten comfortable with me, is pushing me away.”

“Alls I can say is write to her man. If she doesn’t want to speak to you, write on yourself. What’s the worse she can do?” Moose broke the silence, causing a groan from his thick-headed friend.

“She could easily wash the ink off. Anyways, I don’t want to start an ink-stained argument.

“I mean it would be entertaining to watch, let’s do it!” Chuck exclaimed “I’m telling you that if you tell her she’s acting like a child, it’ll start all sorts of arguments and even spice up the bedroom activity.”

Moose, once again, slapped the back of his friend’s head, calling him idiotic for the idea and inputting that if he was Chuck’s soulmate, he would move to a remote island and cut all ties with him. “He literally only found out they were soulmates a month ago. Cut the bedroom talk, Clayton, we’re all not as sex crazed as you.”

Reggie sat, zoned out, not really listening to the words his closest friends spoke but instead focusing on his thoughts and finding a way to sort out whatever was going on between him and (Y/N).

Both, Archie and Veronica, sat with their mouths open, gawking at their friend in front of them; Betty and Kevin shook and groaned in disapproval of her words. Already knowing that it was a stupid idea. “No way, you can’t do that, you’ll only push him away further.”

“Listen up Andrews. He’s my soulmate, no matter what I do or what he does, if we’re pushed away, we will always find a pull to each other.”

Tags: @gabrielle-clifford

[aion-rsa]

Flash Forward and the Legacy of Wally West

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Flash Forward #1 moves Wally West past the controversial events of DC's Heroes in Crisis.

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Heroes In Crisis was an incredible book. It told an extremely important story, delivering a critical message to an audience probably not used to hearing it. It also kind of breaks the superhero formula.

The biggest split between DC and Marvel characters has always been what the characters are best at doing. Marvel has the street level folks, the people with regular problems who also have to deal with being superheroes. DC heroes have always been the icons, the Olympian gods shining a light and showing us what we can be if we strive hard enough.

The point where they converge, though, is on legacy characters. Laura Kinney, Miles Morales, or Bucky all face their regular person problems in the Marvel Universe, but they also face problems fitting into or adjusting the iconography and archetype they’re filling as Wolverine or Spider-Man or Captain America. The inverse is true for DC’s legacy heroes: Wally West can have regular person problems - self-doubt, family drama, being broke - while also fulfilling the epic archetype that the Flash is supposed to.

In fact, Wally West is probably the exemplar of the legacy character archetype. While nearly everyone in the Justice Society of America had some kind of descendant (in name, power set, family tie, or motif) in the Silver Age, almost all of those second generation characters were the definitive ones for the superhero universes built around them - as great as he is, nobody’s first thought when you say “The Atom” is Al Pratt. Wally West was introduced in 1960 by Carmine Infantino and John Broome to be a sidekick to DC's ultimate legacy character, Barry Allen’s Flash. His primary role was to run around the DCU as part of team Flash, either with Barry or with his sidekick cohorts as a founding member of the Teen Titans. In 1986, after spending the previous couple of years with the speed force threatening to blow his heart out from exertion, he returned to full hero status for Crisis on Infinite Earths, and following Barry’s death, he took on the mantle of the Flash full time. He stayed the primary Flash until Barry was brought back to life in 2009.

read more: New Look at The Batman's Grave #1

So when this version of Wally was written out of continuity with the New 52, the fan outcry was predictable. Suddenly, the point of view character for the Justice League, the heart and soul of the DCU (according to one of the best episodes of, at that point, the most popular pop culture representation of the league - the  Justice League animated series) didn’t exist. And the kicker: not only was the character functionally erased, but so was the legacy that was a defining motivation for Wally as a hero. Wally was able to transcend archetype because of his position as the legacy Flash: his struggle to live up to the greatness of the people who had his job before him was unique to him when he first got the job, and relatable in a way that “basically Hermes on Olympus, but he’s also always late” can’t be.

Heroes In Crisis told a story with a very regular person problem: it was all about surviving trauma. And it was really good! It was a masterful blending of the two styles - using icons to model behavior or tackle a problem for the audience. I think it worked in a lot of the same ways that the Young Justice episode about Harper Row’s abusive family did. Wally West has had his entire life ripped from him - a wife, kids, an entire world that he was torn out of. He went to get help, had a setback, hurt people he cared about and then compounded the error out of shame. HiC blended that down-to-earth problem with the big mythical path-illumination that DC’s heroes are so extremely good at.

It also left Wally in a rough spot. He sorta killed a bunch of people, and even though it was an accident, it’s not the kind of thing that can be handwaved away. But with every problem comes opportunity: Scott Lobdell and Brett Booth start putting Wally’s life back together (and setting him up for a big event in 2020, looks like) in Flash Forward.

Here’s the official synopsis from DC...

"His name is Wally West—and he was the Fastest Man Alive. That is, until the Multiverse was rewritten without him or his family in it. Wally returned and tried to make it work, but the damage was done. Spinning out of the events of Heroes in Crisis, follow the man who called himself Flash on an adventure to find redemption in a cosmos that has fought so hard to destroy him."

We’ve got an exclusive first look at the book for you here. Check it out! 

And if you want any more information on what’s coming next for Wally or a deeper dive into why he’s provably the best Flash, stick with Den of Geek!

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News Jim Dandy

Sep 16, 2019

DC Entertainment

wally west

The Flash

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