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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

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Sanctuary -Chapter 24

Warnings: mentions of depression, death, grief, sad Tyler, a tad of smut

Tagging: @thunderintheshadows (although you read this already over on Ao3 lol), @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud

The meeting is scheduled for one pm. Held in one of the hotel's smaller conference rooms; Nik hosting from Colorado through a secure satellite feed arranged by the FBI. At Esme's insistence, she'd sought out Mark's help, who in turn, had agreed to lend his assistance as long as it was kept strictly 'off the books'. Neither Tyler or Yaz made aware; a need to know situation that Nik was certain they didn't need to know. Not at this particular time, anyway. She'd also managed to convince the hotel management that the team -she'd spun a story about them providing private security for some of Ireland's elite- needed a meeting room for 'strategic purposes', and a hefty money transfer had been sent to them to ensure both their cooperation and their silence.

Yaz arrives last; arms and hands loaded down with bags of food and drink for lunch, along with his laptop and iPad.

“You went back to that coffee shop, didn't you,” Tyler grins, recognizing the logo emblazoned on the front of one of the paper bags. “Was she there? Did you see her? Did you talk to her?”

Esme sits alongside of him, their thighs touching under the table. The need for closeness...both physically and emotional...is overwhelming. On both their parts. As if something or someone was just waiting in the shadows to snatch them away from one another. Bot are nervous. Anxious. All of the missing information, the complexities of the case, the uneasiness that comes with being in an unfamiliar place and not knowing exactly who your enemy is. All mixing together to create a brutal and punishing force. All jobs come with their share of danger. With the unexpected twists and turns that jumped out at you without a moments notice. Always having to think three steps ahead of you; always wanting to ahead of your foes so you could take them by surprised, not vice versa. But this was different. The trouble had started before they ever set foot on Ireland soil. Danger could be lurking around every corner; in every dark alleyway or doorway.

She is feeling it more than the others. It's been almost six years since she'd last been on a job. She had thought that that part of her life was behind her. More than content to give up the almost nomadic lifestyle in favour or a quieter existence. Quite enjoying the routine and the familiarity that comes with being a stay at home mother and a housewife. It sounds old fashioned; the solace found in taking care of a house, in cooking dinners and doing laundry and other various chores, in keeping a husband happy and satisfied, in spending time with her children and loving on them as much as humanely possible. But after years of never forming true bonds with anyone and never having a stable place to live while running from her demons, being a spouse and a parent turned out to be exactly what she'd needed. She'd needed normal. Or at least their version of normal.

At the mention of a girl, she glances away from her laptop, fingers hovering over the keys; in the midst of sending an instant message to Ovi. Both he and Chloe were in constant contact. Always letting her know what is going on at home. Whether it be sharing stories about what the kids were up to, asking questions about things like favourite foods and things that would provide comfort when the little ones were emotional over the realization that both their mom and dad are gone, letting her know that things felt safe and secure and there had been no suspicious activity or threats. At least not yet.

“She was,” the grin that spreads across Yaz' face is enormous as he arranges the food and beverages in the middle of the table, then busies himself with setting up the tech needed to hold the meeting. They're running on Nik time, and her time -in her eyes- is extremely valuable and she expects others to recognize and abide by it. “Her name is Anna,” he says. “Anna O'Brian.”

“Oh how adorably Irish,” Esme quips. “Is she legal? Did you ask to see her driver's licences this time?”

Tyler gives an amused smirk.

“You're getting just as bad as he is,” Yaz complains, nodding in the other man's direction. “He's rubbing of on you.”

“She likes when I rub one off on her,” Tyler says, and then winces when his wife grabs a hold of what little excess fat he has above his hip and pinches as hard as she can.

“What?” he asks innocently. And when she huffs in disgusts and turns her attention back to the laptop, he playfully nudges her in the ribs with his elbow.

“You're disgusting,” she replies. “I can't believe you even said that.”

Yet at the same time, she can recognize the remarkable transformation -one of many- that he's gone through over the past five and a half years. He's no longer on guard twenty four seven; he's able to relax and actually live in the moment. No longer constantly haunted by the horrible decisions of the past. Comfortable enough in his own skin...his new skin...to not only let others in, but to be like everyone else. Sarcastic, humorous, finally content in his own skin. Yet when it's time for the seriousness of a situation to kick in, he will be back to all business.

He'll be the old Tyler again. A transformation so quick and subtle that its as if the new one never even existed.

“I read it's supposed to be good for the skin,” he reasons. “It's probably why you look as young as you do. Like a natural moisturizer.”

“You've got serious issues,” she huffs, and then yelps when he grabs a hold of the back of her knee, squeezing lightly and the proceeding to tickle her mercilessly. “Stop it!” she orders in between the laughing and the hiccups that soon make an appearance. “What is wrong with you? Tyler! For fuck sakes! You're going to make me pee myself!”

“You too make me sick,” Yaz declares, when Tyler finally relents; smiling and winking at her, running a hand over her hair and then pressing a kiss to her temple. “It's gross. The way you two are. All happy and in love and shit. It's been almost six years. Shouldn't you hate each other by now? Isn't this when things go south and you just stay together for the kids?”

“Oh there's days,” Esme says. “Where he is walking a very thin line. Believe me. He's too scared of me to push things too far.”

Tyler nods in agreement. She holds all the power. It doesn't matter that he's a foot taller or ninety pounds heavier. He knows when to just shut up and tow the line. “Then she gets over it when I hate fuck her,” he grins. “She's relatively harmless after that.”

She sighs in exasperation. “So who's this girl, Yaz?” she asks, as she returns to composing her message to Ovi. “Waitress? Bartender? Stripper?”

“Speaking of strippers,” Yaz grins. “Tyler...remember that red head in Russia. The one that kept rubbing her massive...” he gestures to his own chest, mimicking breasts. “...in your face.”

“Oh my god I do not need to hear this!” Esme makes a dramatic gagging noise and places her hands over her ears. “I want to remain oblivious to what he was up to before I met him. Those days didn't exist! I want to pretend they never happened!”

“She had a massive girl boner for your man. She did these things for free. She probably would have given him money for letting her.”

“Yaz...” her eyes are narrow as she glares at him. “...I will punch you in the throat, I swear to God.”

“You remind me of her,” he continues. “With the new hair. Only your boobs are real.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Tyler frowns, and smacks the younger man upside the head as he gets up to grab food. “Don't talk about my wife's body like that. Don't cross that line, mate. Don't make things weird.”

“My knight in shining armour,” Esme grins.

“Slightly tarnished and dented armour,” Yaz suggests to her “You like that one? Give me that one. Are you impressed by me?”

“I'll both accept it and allow it,” she nods. “I'm going to write that one down so when I get down to writing my book entitled 'Shit Yaz Says', I can include it. So who is she? This girl? Don't leave me out of the loop.”

“A waitress. At a place we went to the other day. She gave me her phone number and I wanted to go in and apologize for not calling her yet. I even brought her flowers.”

“Nicely done,” Tyler nods his approval. “You've been taking notes.”

“We're going for drinks tonight,” Yaz excitedly bounces up and down on his heels, like a little kid that just found out the Tooth Fairy now gives out twenties for a molar.

“Drinks?” Esme arches an eyebrow. “So that's what kids call it these days. Just call it what Tyler does. Studying.”

“For the record, I did not start that shit,” he places two plates of food on the table and slides one towards her. It's weird in a way; how you get to know someone so well that you know exactly what they'll eat, and be appreciative of even the small gesture of getting it for them. “I did not call it studying. Ovi said he and Chloe were studying. I just took it from there.”

“Tyler is a huge fan of studying,” she continues, briefly pressing her shoulder into his when he sits down, giving him a smile of appreciation. “He likes to study alone.”

“That is not what I said. I said if I have to study alone, I will. Not that I enjoy it. Just that it needs to be done sometimes. What are you supposed to do when your study partner gets a lot of headaches or doesn't feel well?”

“Excuse you, but when was the last time you heard any of those excuses from me? Months. Declan was still a tiny little thing.”

“You two are both fucked,” Yaz declares, and then adjusts the blinds covering the window; so there isn't too much sun streaming into the room and preventing them from seeing the smart board that Nik will appear on. “T minus six minutes. You guys ready for this shit? It's going to get weird, isn't it. Even more weird than it already is.”

“I have been eating at the buffet of strange all day,” Esme declares, then fills him on everything that has taken place since she'd opened up her eyes first thing in the morning. The strangers outside the hotel room; the nervous shuffling of feet and harsh whispers. How'd she attempted to glimpse a glimpse of them but had been just a few seconds too late. About the housekeeper insisting that no one was staying in the room that Esme had seen...with her own two eyes...the couple emerge from.

“Hmmm...” Yaz says in response to that piece of information, then looks at Tyler from across the table. Pointed stares. Tyler's eyebrows shooting up. So much communicated between them without even needing to use words.

She launches into what she knows about the Buckman family; no hands on knowledge, but history with colleagues that had gone toe to toe with them and had somehow managed to survive.

“They're not a family you want to fuck with,” she says, as she sips from a bottle of water. “This is Amir Asif on steroids. I'm not even joking. If you thought Dhaka went to shit, this has the chance to be a hundred times worse. If this blows up in our faces, it's going to be damn near impossible to get those kids out. Not when it's just one person doing the heavy lifting.”

“You think we need more help?” Yaz asks, and when she shrugs, he addresses Tyler. “You think you need more help? You're the one actually going in. How are you feeling about the chances? Or being able to get both of them? Two kids plus yourself? Do you think you can get all three of you out?”

“I'm fine with it,” Tyler replies. “I'll be okay. I can handle it.”

“Realistically what's the chances?” Yaz inquires. “That you can successfully get two kids out at once and go up against anyone coming at you? It isn't going to be as easy as just walking in there and grabbing them and taking off. There's going to be resistance. Big time. You think you can handle two kids plus all the other shit being thrown at you?”

“I think you need to let me worry about all of that and let me do my job. How many extractions have I done? Tons. Yet you think I'm some kind of rookie just walking in there blind? I know what I'm doing. I can handle getting two kids out.”

“And yourself?” Esme speaks up, not looking away from her laptop.

“We're not talking about that right now. This is about the kids.”

“Your life is just as important,” she gently argues. “Whether you think it is or not.”

“The job is a success if the kids get out,” he counters. “It doesn't matter if I do or not.”

“It matters to me. And to your kids.”

“Maybe we need an extra set of hands,” Yaz suggests. “Someone watching your back.”

“I don't need someone going in with me. What I need is people leaving me alone to do my job. I work better alone. I'll get the kids out. No matter what it takes. That's all that matters. Getting to them and getting the fuck out of there. I've done this before, remember? Have either of you gone in and done the bloody stuff?”

“That's not the point,” Esme says. “How many extractions have you done where you've had two people to get out?”

“None,” he admits.

“Exactly,” she huffs. “What harm does having back up do?”

“It's messy enough with just one person. I don't need someone all up in my ass questioning everything I do. I work alone. I've always worked alone. So just let me go in and do what I have to do. I'll have it under control. You need to trust me.”

“Two kids, two people,” Yaz reasons. “Would make it a hell of a lot easier.”

“Neither of you are listening to what I'm saying. I run this part of things. I call the shots. Not you. And not you,” he gives Esme's thigh a squeeze under the table. “You have to just back off and let me do what I do. You want things to run smooth? Or as smooth as they can? Then keep other people out of the way. That's all I ask. Please...” he presses a kiss to her temple. “...trust me. Just trust me.”

“Fine,” she relents. “But I don't like this. I don't like any of this. Two kids plus yourself? While trying to out run and out gun whoever is going to try and stop you? There's no Saju busting his ass to clear a path. There's no Nik and the team providing tactical support. There's no G to act as a sniper like he did in Dhaka.”

“You were a sniper,” Yaz points out. “In the corps.”

“I was not a sniper. I merely acted as one from time to time.”

“But you still did it,” Tyler says. “When you had to.”

“Oh hell no. You two are not putting this on me. I came here to help with intel. That's it. That is as far as I'm going. You two are not dragging me down into some fucked up rabbit hole because one of you is too stubborn to ask for outside help and the other just puts his tail between his legs and agrees to whatever the first one says. No. I'm not doing this. I won't do it.”

“You've got the experience,” Yaz continues. “And I trust you. Tyler trusts you. You can handle it. And we don't have to drag more people into this. Your intel stuff will be down by then, right? So why not stick around and help out? Better than bringing in outsiders, don't you think?”

“And you agree with this?” Esme address her husband. “You think this is a good idea? Getting me even more involved in this than I already am?”

“I trust you,” he says. “If there's anyone I want having my back...”

“This is fucked!” she cries. “You're both insane. What in the actual hell is wrong with the two of you? Where did all the common sense go? Both of you used to have tons of it and now it's just gone. It's disappeared. How does any of this make sense? How do I go from being the intel person to suddenly being tactical back up? Explain to me where this all went wrong.”

“You don't have to actually go in,” Tyler explains. “Just be there. Like G was in Dhaka when I went to see Ovi's captors.”

“Just be there in case you're needed,” Yaz adds. “You know this is going to go to shit. They're going to have a lot of fire power. And Tyler can't get those two kids and himself out of there and be one hundred percent effective when engaging. It's impossible. Not with two little kids tagging along. Just hang out. Find a nice high perch somewhere. Wait and see if you're needed.”

“This is crazy,” she runs her hands over her face. “This is just all so crazy. What are the chances of any of us actually surviving this?”

“Did you make it out of Dhaka?” Tyler inquires. “Did I not find a way to keep you alive? To get you across the bridge?”

“That's not the same thing and you know it.”

“I'll get you out of this too, ” he says. “I promise.”

****

“Talk to me,” Nik says in trademark fashion. “Who has information?”

“Esme knows the Buckmans. ” Yaz speaks up, and his sister arches a quizzical -yet extremely interested- eyebrow.

“I don't know them. I know of them. There's a huge difference.”

“What do you know?” Nik asks.

“I only what I've heard through the grapevine. In the circles that I travelled in. Word gets around. Especially about families like that. The old man was killed ten years ago. Everyone suspected it was a hit, but no one every really knew for sure. It was all hearsay. Water cooler chatter. And I saw his file. His rap sheet was enormous. There were charges on there that should have had him rotting away in jail. Yet he always found a way out of and around things.”

“Are they dangerous?”

“They were back then. When the old guy was running things. I've been out of this for five years, Nik. I'm not exactly up on all the gossip. They were powerful. Probably the most powerful crime family out there. But they were quiet about it. Always flying under the radar. But people knew about them and people feared them and that was enough. They had access to all kinds of shit. Money can buy you a lot of toys. Extremely dangerous and scary ones. So if the daughter really is running the show...”

“She has the same kind of resources and money available to her,” Nik concludes.

“And the pictures,” Esme taps her fingernails on one hand against the tabletop as she speaks, using the other hand to bring up the photos of Heather Buckman on the laptop. “The ones someone gave to Tyler. The ones with the kids are very real. There's no doubt about that. You can't fake that kind of terror in someone's eyes. Especially kids. But the wife? Those are not real, Nik. It gets more and more obvious every time I look at them. First of all, it makes no sense to keep mother and kids in two different spots. That's two separate places you have to constantly man and monitor. Second, she's only been given a minor working over. Nothing like the kids. The hair was a nice touch, but it was too much. Too much effort into trying to make something look real.”

“Any way of figuring out where she or the kids are being held?”

“Based just on those pictures? No. There's thousands of places that could look just what it's in the photos. Without actually narrowing down locations, it's impossible. What's the chances of going into McMann's house?”

“I can get you into anywhere you feel the need to be,” Nik confidently declares. “What are you thinking?”

“I'm not even sure to be honest. But maybe there's something there that can give us some sort of clue. It's a long shot. But...”

“I'll arrange it and contact you. In the meantime, I have a couple places for you to check out. I want you go in and ask some questions. Tell them that you're a journalist from over the pond that received an anonymous tip that there's trouble brewing between the IRA and a New Zealand crime family. That should be enough to loosen some lips. Charm them. Get them to warm up to you. Flirt with them if you have to. Pull out all the stops. I don't care how far you have to go to get information. Just get it. I'm sending the address to your SAT. It's a bar in downtown Belfast. Owned by an active IRA member.”

“She's not going alone.” Tyler speaks up. “No way. Not into something like that.”

“You tag along but you stay outside,” Nik says. “I don't want you in there. They'll recognize you when they see you and we can't have the two of you being connected in any way. Stay across the street. Or somewhere they won't spot you. But no more than a hundred yards away. Make sure you're armed. Just in case.”

“She should be armed too,” he suggests.

“They'll make her for sure. We can't take that chance. She goes in alone and does what she needs to do. You stay outside and keep an eye on things. You only go in if things go to shit and you have no other choice. Understand me?”

He nods.

“I have someone coming to meet you. He'll be there between six and nine pm, you're time. He's from Dublin. He's reliable. He's bringing you some more ammo and some weapons. He's on the up and up. You can trust him. Have you talked to McMann? Does he know that you're onto him?”

“I'm meeting with him tomorrow morning,” Tyler says. “He wants to talk. See where we are at with things. To be honest, I want to fucking strangle him.”

“Well try not to. I know you're pissed. And I understand it. But you should let him know. That you know everything he told you about his New Zealand extraction was a lie. Maybe if you lose it on him it will get him to talk. He knows more than he's letting on. Maybe seeing you pissed will scare some sense into him. Tell him everything. About the pictures. About the threats against your family. Lean on him and lean on him hard. As hard you can without physically hurting him.”

“I vote that Tyler at least gets to throw one punch,” Yaz pipes up. “To the throat. Nice and hard.”

Esme nods in agreement.

“Yaz,” his sister address him now. “I've got someone meeting up with you with some new technology. High tech. Ways that we can all communicate without it being noticeable. Ear wigs, bugs, things like that. Inconspicuous. The old radios won't cut it. Too noticeable. I'm sending you his information and you can reach out to him and arrange something.”

“Where are we at on this Erin girl?” Tyler inquires. “The one that showed up at my room.”

“I've done all the digging I can do,” Nik replies. “There is no Erin Ferguson in Belfast that matches her description. I don't know if Esme would have more luck.”

“I can try,” she offers. “But there's only so much I can do. Without facial recognition software and other high tech shit like that, my hands are pretty well tied. I can see if there's any security footage of her entering or leaving the hotel and maybe I'll get lucky with image search on google. But that's a big 'if', Nik.”

“See what you can do. I'm not expecting miracles.”

“How's things there?” Tyler asks.

“There's been no sign of anything even remotely suspicious. No threats. Nothing. But I'm going to stay here and keep the detail I have. Ovi and Chloe are handling things. The kids are happy. Calm. Well, as calm as they can be. You know what you're kids are like. Calm doesn't exactly describe them well. But they're fine. They miss you guys. I didn't realize how much they look and act just like you, Tyler. It's kind of unnerving. Scary even. You have some seriously strong genes.”

Esme nods in agreement, and he gives her a wink and a smile and takes her hand under the table.

“We've come up with a plan,” Yaz informs his sister. “When it comes to tactical support. For when it comes time for Tyler to get the kids out. It's going to be hard. Juggling two kids and fighting back. Because you just know the shit is going to hit the fan and they're going to come at him and they're going to come at him hard. With everything they've got.”

“What kind of plan?” Nik asks.

“Esme can do it. She has the experience. She can just find a place to watch and wait from. If things don't go wrong, then that's all she'll have to do. Watch. If things do blow up...”

“And they will,” Esme speaks up. “Because if Dhaka as bad as it did, this is going to go a hundred times worse. And that's being fatalistic. That's being realistic. These people? They're capable of bad shit. Horribly bad shit. They make Amir Asif seem tame in comparison. Dhaka was a shit show. This is going be Dhaka on a massive dose of steroids.”

“But will you do it?” Nik asks. “Can you do it? Because I think we all understand if you can't.”

Esme sighs, pushes her hair behind her ears. “I can do it,” she confidently. “I don't want to do it. But I will. Only because it's Tyler.”

****

They make love. The drapes drawn across the window; rays of sunlight poking through the small gaps in the fabric. His hands on her hips as she straddles him; guiding every slow, deliberate movement. Sex has always been what they do. A coping mechanism. The most pure yet raw way of experiencing the deepest and most primal form of intimacy. Driven out of need and desperation; fuelled by worry and stress and the fear that each time may be the last. So many unknowns lying ahead of them. The future suddenly terrifying unstable.

When she comes undone -nails scrapping painfully down his chest, his name exploding from her lips- he gives her little time to recuperate. One strong arm wrapping around her waist and throwing her down onto her stomach, legs flat against the bed, a knee pushing her tights apart before settling himself between them. Pausing long enough to run the tip of his tongue all the way down the length of her spine; eliciting a whimper from her, her entire body trembling from both the new sensation and the aftermath of her powerful orgasm. His hands running over her shoulders, fingertips grazing over her ribs and down to her hips, once more gripping them tightly as he pushes into her. The friction intense; the press of her body against the bed, the tightness of those barely spread legs, his hips sinking as far into her as they possibly can. A low, feral growl erupting from within his chest as he bottoms out inside of her. Dropping his head, longer strands of hair brushing against her bare skin as his teeth nip at her shoulders and the back of her neck. Holding back as he revels in the sensation of being so deep inside of her, until her hand is lifting up and blindly grabbing at his hair; a clear indication for him to continue. And he captures her hand in hers, holding her arm above her head, pinned to the mattress as he pulls out entirely and then slides back in with such force that it pushes her body up the body and causes her to cry out into the pillow underneath her.

His control is non existent. He'd felt it slipping away inside that conference room. Everything was going to shit and he knew it. The disaster was inevitable; looming on the horizon like some dark, threatening cloud that you can't possibly outrun. Things have already gone so wrong. The worry and the fear are already overwhelming. The stress all consuming. And he is physically channels those emotions; using her body as a way to relieve some of the burden. Bruising, painful thrusts that have her whimpering and crying out, his name repeatedly tumbling from her parched lips. Her nails digging into his fingers with enough force to break the top layer of skin, her other hand grasping at the sheets below. And he kneels above her, free hand sliding between her and the mattress, fingers pushing past her sopping lips to find her clit. Slowly rubbing at it until the second orgasm hits; tears streaming down her face, his name being screamed loud enough for anyone in the hallway or adjacent rooms to here. Continuing his ministrations until she's coming a third time; her eyes wide, delirious sounds escaping her. Fucking her until she can't quite possibly can't handle any more; both hands biting into her hips as he pushes his pelvis against her ass and empties himself inside of her. Sweat dripping from his brow, the droplets glistening on her bare skin.

Afterwards they rest. Letting their bodies settle. Their minds absorb -and fixate- on all of the information they'd be given early. He lays on back, a forearm over his eyes, a hand on Esme's hip as she naps on her side, ass tucked against his hip. He hears her stir; the long, soft sigh that she releases, followed by her quiet, sleepy voice.

“Tyler?”

He switches positions, rolling over onto his side; front pressed tightly against her back. The hand that was on her hip now coming to rest on her shoulder; palm gliding all the way down her arm, fingertips passing over her wrist and down onto the top of her hand, then retreating and sliding back up again, until his hand settles on her ribs.

“Yeah?” he asks, and presses a kiss to her shoulder.

“Are you okay? You seem...I don't know...different. Distant. Ever since the meeting with Nik.”

“I'm fine,” he assures her. “Just a lot on my mind.”

“Like?”

“Lots of things. About us. About you.”

“Bad things or...?”

“I'm just worried,” he admits.

“About?”

“You.”

She brings her arm across her body and places her hand over his, lacing their fingers together.

“I don’t want you going there,” he says. “To that bar. Alone.”

“You’ll be outside. A hundred feet away.”

“Outside,” he stresses the word. “You’ll be inside. Alone.”

“I’m only going in there to ask some questions,” she reasons. “See if I can’t lure them in. Get them to talk. Or send me in the direction of people who will. What do you think is going to happen?”

“They’re IRA,” he reminds her. “They’ll be armed. What if they make you?”

“They won’t. I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?”

She sighs, slipping her hand out of his and then rolling over to face him. Their heads sharing the same pillow, the ends of their noses practically touching.

His hand moves to her thigh now, stroking it softly.

“Remember in the elevator?” she asks. “When that kid was armed and I was freaking out? And you said you weren’t some rookie?”

He nods.

“Well neither am I. This isn’t the first time I’ll be doing this. I spent years going into worse places. Mingling. Being accepted. Getting people to open up to me. I’ve deal with some pretty scary, hard core people and not once did I ever get made. You need to trust me, Tyler.”

“I do trust you. You’re my wife. I trust you with my kids, don’t I?”

“It’s not the same thing and you know it. I’m not talking about the trust that comes with sharing a life together. Sharing a bed. Sharing children. I’m talking about the trust that comes with the job.”

His brow furrows. “You’re not in the job. You never have been. And I don’t want you to be.”

“Then why am I here?” she challenges.

“Because I need your help.”

“Which means I’m in this. Whether you like it or not. You brought me into this, Tyler. I was more than happy to stay home and take care of a house and give you babies and raise those babies. That is what you wanted. You made that clear as soon as we got married. You wanted a housewife. You wanted someone to give you kids. You wanted a family. You wanted everything your mother was and then some. And I went with it. Because I knew it was what you needed. I knew you needed that normalcy. That if you were going to successfully balance the job and a regular life, that you needed things a certain way at home. And I’ve given you that. Or I’ve tried to, at least.”

“You have. You know you have. And you know how much I love you. How much I love my kids. How much I love our life. And you’re right. I did need all of that. I still do.”

“But I had a life before you. I had a life before all of this. Before marriage and kids.”

“I know.”

“And it bothers you to even think about. You hate thinking about what I was like before you. But this was my life, Tyler. Before you ever existed in it. I lied to people. I conned them. I made them trust me. Then I let other people…people like you…destroy them. And I was good at it. Damn good. Other mercenaries trusted me. So why don’t you?”

He regards her intently, drawing in a long, shaky breath, teeth grazing against his bottom lip. “Because it’s different.”

“How? And I’m not trying to be difficult. I’m genuinely curious. How is it different?”

“Because you weren’t married to any of them. I’m your husband. The father of your kids. They didn’t have any ties to you. I do. I love you. And I don’t want anything happening to you.”

“You trusted me in Dhaka,” she points out.

“Dhaka was different.”

“How so?”

“Because it fucking was,” his last shred of patience finally snaps, and he hates himself for it. How he doesn’t have a logical and sound explanation for why he feels the way he does. “Things were different then,” he attempts, and rolls over onto his back, running his hands over his face before sitting up and leaning back against the headboard. “We were different then.”

“We were just fucking then, you mean. Back then, I meant nothing to you. I was just some desperate and lonely girl. A warm body for you to occupy yourself with. It was easier for you that way. To just let me do what I needed to do because I meant absolutely nothing to you. It wouldn’t have mattered back then if something happened to me.”

He gives a derisive snort and shakes his head, then reaches for a bottle of water on the nightstand. “That’s bullshit and you know it. You meant something. Even then. I don’t know what it was. I can’t explain what I felt. I just know I felt it. I just know you meant something. Stop tying to fucking psychoanalyze me all the time. I know what I felt. About you. About what was happening. I shouldn’t have to explain it.”

“It was sex, Tyler. There’s nothing wrong with admitting it. That that’s all it was.”

“That’s not all it was. Maybe it started out that way. Maybe that’s all I wanted at first. But it changed, okay? Some time in those five days. I don’t know when or how. Just that it did. I knew I wanted more from you. That we could have something fucking amazing if we actually tried. If we trusted one another enough to try. And we were so close. So fucking close. To getting that. To getting to that boat and never looking back and just seeing where things took us.”

“Do you regret the path we had to take to get to where we are now?”

“I don’t regret anything. Do I sometimes wish things were different? That things didn’t go so wrong in Dhaka? I wish that all the time. That we just got across the bridge and got the fuck out of there. But we didn’t. Things happened the way they did. We can’t go back and change that. Do I wish we could have had more time to get to know each other? Before we found out we were having a baby and decided to get married? Yeah. Sometimes I do wish that. Only because I think it would have been better for you.”

“Tyler, I have you. I have our kids. How much better do you think I need things to be?”

“I don’t mean better in that way. I mean…I don’t know…easier…” he swallows half the bottle of water, and she plucks it from his hand and finishes it before pushing herself up onto her knees and shuffling towards him. “…don’t make me talk about these things. Please. Just don’t.”

“You’re doing fine,” she assures him, as she straddles his lap, a gentle smile on her lips as she pushes her fingers through his hair, nails scraping along his scalp before resting clasping her hands together at the nape of his neck. “What are you so scared of?”

“Nothing. I’m not scared of anything. I just don’t want to talk about shit like this. This isn’t me. You know that.”

“I think it is. Deep down. I think you need to talk about these things or you wouldn’t bring them up in the first place. Talk to me…” she pecks his lips, then rests her forehead against. “It’s okay…you can do this…you can be this way with me…you know that…”

He sighs, eyes closing as his palms run along her thighs, over her hips and up her back. Stopping briefly at her shoulders; fingers pressing into the flesh before his hands slide back down again, coming to rest of her sides.

“It’s okay…” she repeats. “Tyler…look at me…”

He opens his eyes. Brilliant blue locked on chocolate brown. And in that moment, Esme realizes that in almost six years, she’s never seen him like this. Not even when he was in the hospital fighting to not only heal, but to regain some sense of control over his life. Looking so confused and lost. Worried.

Vulnerable.

This big, strong and seemingly man for once wearing his heart on his sleeve.

“Tyler…you can say it. Whatever you need to say. You don’t have to do this. Keep things from me. Please. Just tell me. Talk to me.”

“Sometimes I think you hate me. For making things so hard on you.”

She blinks. “What?”

“For having to make the decisions you did. For having to give up your life. The job. Everything changed when we met. Everything changed once things went to shit on that bridge. I changed. So did you. And you could have just walked away afterwards. But you didn’t.”

“Because I didn’t want to. Because I wanted to be with you. You didn’t force me to stay. I stayed willingly.”

“But things were hard. They sucked. Huge. You shouldn’t have had to see the things you did. Hear the things you did. You should have just left. When I was in the hospital. You should have just walked away. And sometimes I wonder if you wish you did.”

“Not once have I ever wished that. Not once have I ever hated you. I don’t regret giving up my life for you. Did it suck sometimes? Did I hate seeing you like that? Did I feel like shit because I couldn’t help you more than I already was? Did I hate seeing you in pain and suffering? Of course I did. I hated the circumstances. Not you.”

He nods slowly, eyes never leaving hers, searching for even the smallest hint of regret.

“Do I sometimes wish none of that ever happened? That things never went wrong in Dhaka? Of course I do. I wish every day that you didn’t have to go through what you did. That you didn’t have to suffer like you did. All those months of rehab and all the pain. I would take those away in a heartbeat and you know I would. But everything else? Finding out we were having a baby? Deciding to get married? I don’t regret any of that. I mean, you’re a pain in my ass…”

He gives a small chuckle.

“…but I don’t regret marrying you. Or having your children. And I’ve never hated you. Not even during our worst fights. When you’ve said some brutal and hurtful shit. Not even then. I love you. More than I ever thought I could love someone. And I meant what I said. That there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. But you need to trust me, Tyler. You wanted my help. You brought me into this. And now you have to trust me to do what I need to do. I know what I’m doing.”

“I can’t lose you,” his voice is barely above a whisper, those eyes still locked on hers. “I just can’t. You always talk about how scared you are to lose me. But I’m just as scared as you are. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t do this by myself. Take care of four kids. I just can’t.”

“Yes. You can. You would do it because you wouldn’t have any other choice.”

He shakes his head, finally turning his face away from her when the emotion becomes too much to handle. The rawness of the situation. The blatant, heart breaking honesty.

“You’re stronger and braver than you give yourself credit for,” she says, and presses a kiss to his temple. “You’d be okay. And so would the kids.”

“I don’t…” the tears are hot and bitter as they trickle down his face. “….can we not talk about this….please…I don’t want to talk about this…”

Placing a soft, tender kiss on his cheek, she lays on hand on the back of his head, encouraging him to rest it upon her shoulder.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” he whispers, and then clings to her, arms wrapped tightly around her slender body. “Please…” he begs, barely able to get the words out. “…don’t make me talk about this…”

She tightens her hold on him, one arm wrapped around his neck, the fingers of her other hand pressing into his scalp. “It’s okay,” she assures him. “It’s okay, Tyler. I’ve got you.”

Those words hit with tremendous power. And he surrenders. Finally giving in to all the fear and the worry.

His entire body shaking with the ferocity of his sobs.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fic #tyler rake fan fiction #chris hemsworth character #extraction #extraction fan fic #sanctuary

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starkerisendgame · 5 years

Note

tony has to take care of peter after his parents pass. (tony is peters god dad and totally forgot because him and pete’s parents drifted over the years) peter is a total brat and tony passes it off as him coping with the deaths. after a few months peter goes over the top and tony decides he has had enough, and so rough smut happens and tony realizes that peter was being a brat cause he’s cock hungry

This is such an interesting concept! It certainly turned out longer than expected, but I loved writing this! Thank you

P.2 | P.3

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that? I thought I just heard you say ‘kid’, ‘guardian’ and my name in the same line” Tony mumbled, sitting up straighter and ignoring the pounding in his head to eye the professional looking woman over the rim of his glasses. She eyed him back, a flicker of annoyance breaking her expression before it smoothed and she cleared her throat.

“Mr. Stark. I understand this must be a difficult time for you, after losing a close friend. But according to a contract drafted in 2001, you and Richard Benjamin Parker came to a legal agreement that you would be named God-Father to Peter Parker, labelled as his legal guardian in the event the boy has no immediate family able to care for him”.

The contract she slides over states exactly that, with two neat and authentic signatures at the bottom of the sheet. One belongs to him, messy and clearly done when he was drunk. The other belongs to Richard, equally as chicken-scratched onto the paper. There’s some vague awareness in the back of his mind about this. But he’s not willing to allow it to the forefront of his brain.

“Legal guardian” he repeated, reaching for the tumbler of water and taking a sip, groaning as he set it down to massage his temples. Richard’s funeral had been the night prior, and the last thing Tony had expected was a lawyer at ass o’clock in the morning, accompanied by a contract and apparently, a whole human being.

She sighs, like he is single-handedly managing to get on every single on of her 7,000,000,000 nerves. “Yes, Mr. Stark. In the contract it states that you are to become the sole legal guardian of Peter in the event his immediate family is unable to provide adequate care for him-”

“Of course they can’t. They’re dead” he mutters, and he doesn’t have to look to know the glare she sends his way.

“This includes any capacity in which his care is required from health, financial and residential. The paperwork was filed yesterday morning. As of today, you are the legal guardian of Peter”.

Peter. Vaguely, Tony remembers a disconcertingly quiet bundle in a soft, blue blanket, held close to Mary’s chest. The $200 gift basket and the custom-knitted blanket and the share in stocks that Tony had gifted. Peter had been a large factor in he and Richard drifting apart. Richard was focused on building his family. Tony was focused on escaping his.

“Right” He huffed, sitting upright and pausing long enough to stop his vision swimming. He desperately scrambled for a coherent thought and she folded her hands neatly, eyeing him as though he were a ticking bomb. With the way his brain begun to ache, he felt like one.

“Fuck Richard and that vintage bourbon” he hissed, reaching to loosen his tie. She startled, linking at him owlishly as he snatched up the contract, scouring the words.

I, Anthony Edward Stark, swear….Legal guardianship in the event of….By the decree of Richard and Mary Parker….God-Father to Peter Parker….Until Peter Parker turns of legal age…Inheritance of Parker Developmental….

He cursed again, snatching open the drawer on his desk to pull out a flask. The whiskey burnt his throat and took with it the rest of the filthy words he wanted to spit.

He wasn’t angry. Not really. Richard had been his best friend at one time, and was still high in his regards. Drifting apart over the years due to different priorities in life had not lessened the respect they held for each other, and Tony still remembered that strange feeling that bloomed in his heart, looking down at the pink, sleeping baby in Richard’s arms.

Except…Over time, he had forgotten about his promise. About the contract, buried deep, somewhere in his own archives. He’d never expected it to bear fruit. Not even when Richard proposed it, eight glasses in and wild at the eyes. Even when it became a legal document and he was still tipsy as he scrawled out his name.

Richard was supposed to have lived, well past the age Peter would require a God-Parent. Tony flexed his arm, looked at the chunky watch on his wrist. A thought, and it would evolve into armour. A Gauntlet. Perhaps if he punched himself in the face hard enough this would all turn out to be a drunk, horrid dream.

“Mr. Stark?” The lawyer probed gently, and he looked up at her, clearing his throat and gesturing.

“The boy. Peter”. He couldn’t bring any other words out, but she seemed to understand.

“Peter is staying with a close family friend, May Leehart. She took him in the night Mr. and Mrs. Parker died. She was informed of the contract and Peter has also been told. He is packed and awaiting pick-up”. She said it so cooly, as if Peter were a parcel Tony had to collect.

He stewed in it for a moment, before he waved a hand at her. “I will require 12 hours to prepare”. He tipped his glasses again the way she raised a brow, his expression cold. She quickly adjusted, nodding.

“I will establish a pick-up time of 2000 hours, tomorrow. Will that suffice?” She asked, scribbling down on her notepad. Tony grunted in response. Fuck, Pepper was going to be so mad.

She was, as it turns out. But not for the reason Tony might have expected. Instead of being mad that he’d drunkenly signed up to be a parent, she was mad that he had forgotten he’d drunkenly signed up to be a parent. He scoffed, but could not argue.

Regardless, she helped him to arrange adjustment of the guest bedroom in his penthouse, clearing all the boxes of parts he had stacked there and establishing a double bed, nice furniture. He simply handed her a card, waving away her suggestions. He had no idea what teenagers liked these days, her guess was as good as his.

The room ended up themed in dark, molten reds and a burnished, fancy-looking shade of blue. Empty shelves line the wall and a small desk was set up near the window, already filled with stationary for Peter’s schoolwork.

Right. The kid was what…Fifteen? Sixteen? Tony shook his head as he slipped into the car, pushing his sunglasses higher up his nose. The roar of the engine helped to overtake his thoughts as he let JARVIS input the address he had been given, guiding him through the city. For all that Richard may have been wealthy, this family friend was clearly not. The apartment he pulled up outside of was in Queens, and not even ‘good’ Queens.

The block was drab, beige and like the type of place Tony might live if he wanted to commit suicide by infected rat bite. “J, eyes on the car” he murmured as he shut the doors.

Yes, Sir.

The building was no better on the inside, shabby and with harsh lighting. Sat on one of the benches along the wall, is a boy.

Thick, fluffy hair as dark as full cocoa chocolate is messy, hides his eyes. He’s pale, lithe and slender. Jeans hug his thighs and his shirt is a shade too tight. Tony stopped in the doorway, unsure. It was only the bags at the kid’s feet that gave him a clue.

“Peter?” The boy looked up, wiping hastily at his eyes. They’re dark and red, his cheeks stained. He’s been crying, a lot. The boy stood clumsily, shrugging his bag onto his shoulder and approaching, arms folding defensively.

“Tony”. It’s abrupt, flat. Tony is so used to ‘Mr. Stark’ that it threw him for a moment, brows climbing. He let out an exhale, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“First name basis already. Look at us, we’re doing great” he chirped, leaning back a fraction to once-over the boy. He was…Attractive, he realised with a start. His face was still a little round with baby fat but he had a strong jawline coming through. Arched brows, creamy skin. He’s shorter than Tony by just a few inches.

Peter doesn’t respond verbally, but he does shoot an impressive scowl his way. But that’s okay. Tony can deal. Teenagers are meant to be stroppy and this one just lost his parents. He can abide by an attitude, for now. Stepping aside he held open the door to the building, making a mental note to grab a hand-wipe from the car. “J, trunk, please” he requests, allowing Peter to step past.

The car blares to life, the trunk popping open gently and lifting. Peter paused mid-step for a moment, before he continued, dumping his bag harshly into the trunk. The rest of his things are in boxes, already at the Tower. Happy had arranged pick-up earlier that day. All the kid has on him now is some clothes and personal effects.

“Music. Do you like music? Of course you like music, everyone does” Tony announced, lifting his own door and sliding in. Peter copied, slumping in his seat and clipping his belt in like someone on death-row. The only response Tony gets is a soft grunt, so he flicks on the music, AC/DC filling the uncomfortable, volatile silence. Leaning for the glovebox, he pulled a sanitary wipe and scrubbed his hands.

Peter didn’t say a word, not for the entire ride. But he did start crying somewhere along 29th. Tony elected to ignore it, gunning the car harder. If the kid wanted to display emotions, he could do that in the privacy of his own room. The closer they got to the Tower, the more Peter seemed to sink into his seat.

The sliding door to the base level vehicle elevator opened for them as they approached, and Peter’s head lifted, hands coming to wipe his eyes as he sat upright and blatantly stared. Tony couldn’t help the little smirk that graced his mouth. He knew the way that he felt, when his bots and his tech first worked. That flutter, low in his gut. The building climb of awe.

Peter glanced across at him and immediately scowled. “It’s not that cool” he muttered, looking away. Tony tipped his head, glancing almost sardonically across at the boy before he let go of the wheel, relaxing back. The car came to a gentle halt and clunked as the locking systems clamped onto the wheels.

The car twisted slowly on the rotating platform and Tony popped his door, stepping out and unbuttoning his jacket. He caught a glimpse of Peter’s wide eyes as the car turned, and then the boy stepped out of the car after him, stumbling a little. Tony stopped himself from reaching out to steady him, instead wandering to where he knew the door to the second floor would open.

Peter ambled after him, still a little wobbly and stopped besides him. “Hey, J. How’s the weather up there?” Tony asked, taking off his sunglasses. Instead of filtering through the comms piece at his ear, JARVIS’ voice filled the room around them.

“Clean and ready, with a light chance of Chinese takeout in the kitchen, Sir”. Peter spun, eyes wide as he looked around. Tony snickered softly, and sensed rather than saw the look of death Peter threw him.

“Oh, manners. Of course. Hey, J? Surprise, you’re an Uncle now. Peter Parker, JARVIS” he hummed, stepping off the podium as the door slid open. Peter had stopped, staring, but leapt out of the way when the car started up, steering itself past them and into an empty space.

“Mr. Parker. It is my pleasure to meet you. Welcome to the Stark Tower” JARVIS’ voice greeted softly, and Peter gave another unsubtle look around. “You will not find me in any true form, Mr. Parker. I am the brainchild of Mr. Stark. I am artificial intelligence and I am everywhere”.

Peter whipped around, staring accusingly at Tony. “So, what? You got an AI to spy on me? Creep” He muttered, wandering away to trace his fingertips down the bonnet of the Lamborghini. Tony snorted.

“You think I went through the trouble of coding and creating an entire AI just because I had some kid coming to stay? Egotistical, much? JARVIS was around before you were nut in Richard’s balls, kid. Besides. JARVIS knows when to look the other way” he winked, scooping up the bag Peter had abandoned and leading the way to the small flight of stairs that led to the penthouse.

Something dug into his hip within the bag and he subtly shifted, squeezing it closer. The unmistakable ridge of a dildo nudged at his side and he glanced down at the bag, raising a brow before looking over his shoulder. Peter was following, slowly. Stopping to stare longingly at each vehicle.

Huh. So there’s that.

He hopped the stairs lightly, tossing Peter’s bag onto the couch when he passed it and slipped behind the bar, reaching for a nice vintage. Pepper could scold him all she wanted. He was a father now. He deserved some damned wine. Peter came peeking around the corner a few moments later, eyes wide open as he looked around. Tony would admit, it was luxurious. While Richard and Mary hadn’t been poor, they hadn’t been on the same level as Tony and Parker Developmental was more a concept than a functioning business.

“You’re not old enough to drink, so. I think there’s some juice in the fridge. There should be. I sent Happy for groceries. I’m not sure what functioning people eat, so. Feel free to write a list” he rambled, lifting the glass to his lips and taking a long sip. Peter stared at him blankly for a moment before kicking off his shoes, leaving them in the doorway as he bypassed Tony and opened the fridge to glance inside. It was stuffed full of food. Vegetables, meat. Chocolate, fruit. Juices and milk and vitamin water.

“Where’s my room?” He asked instead, flicking the fridge shut and looking across at Tony, who pointed to a doorway as he turned. The door he pointed at was closed, sleek and white. Peter started for it and Tony strolled casually after him.

“Your door will unlock automatically, based on your genetic signature. But feel free to set a passcode. JARVIS will help” Tony informed, watching Peter’s startled glance back at him before he pushed the door open. The room was impressive. Tony hadn’t looked at it closely when Pepper sent him the files, but it was lighter than he’d expected. Looked completely different to a glorified storage room.

“A double?” Peter asked, turning in the doorway and leaning back against it as Tony stopped besides him. They were close like this, Tony’s side against Peter’s front. He turned, cocking a brow as he sipped his wine and leaned into Peter’s space a little.

“Luxury. And, who knows. When you’re old enough to know what sex is, maybe you might bring someone back” he shrugged gently. Peter’s breathing tripped over itself and he stared, lips parting as Tony turned away. “Don’t break anything and don’t touch anything important looking. JARVIS can play tour guide” he called over his shoulder, sauntering away towards his room. He needed to change. Maybe jerk off.

Peter watched his ass the entire way.

#Starker #IronSpider #Starker Fic #Starker AU #IronSpider Fic #Prompt Fills #IronSpider AU #Tony Stark/Peter Parker #Peter Parker x Tony Stark #Starker Request #Starker Prompt Fills #Starker Prompt #Starker Part One

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fieldbears · 5 years

Text

Washed-Up Stucky MNF/Fic Writer Provides Endgame Opinions

I’m going to try to tackle this linearly, at least to begin with:

I am very much Team Bored With MCU Hawkeye, but I want to give sincere props for the cold open, which I think accomplished several things simultaneously: recapped the consequences of the last film (since, hey, it’s been a fuckin while), set the tone, and began Clint’s narrative arc.

That said, jesus, I’m still irritated by the shoe-horned family to begin with. First they were invented for convenience and narrative stakes, and then their final, ultimate reason for existence was to be temporarily fridged. Take a moment to imagine a world where Clint was the circus runaway loner he was supposed to be, who only had his coworkers as found family, who either responded to The Snap by throwing himself harder into his teamwork work OR went rogue because his sense of justice and agency was so fucking destroyed by what happened. He didn’t need a blood family to have the arc he had. And he didn’t even need the arc he had. But this is a bitchfest about a choice made many years ago, not made in this final movie.

The first third of that movie was rough. The whole thing had the narrative flow of “A Series of Related Short Stories Played One After the Other”, but the first third seems to be Failing To Establish the New World and then Clumsily Establishing The Emerging Situation.

The establishing shots and scenes to show the audience what The Snap’s consequences were worldwide were... lacking. It’s dark? No more baseball? People are relying on natural light instead of interior lighting, but this is also happening at Avengers HQ, where they clearly still have power and internet access to work their tech, so... was it just an aesthetic choice? I feel like the film tried to spend time showing us what the consequences were for the average New Yorker, but instead we get a weird Canonly Gay Russo Character who gave a good performance that tells us about the human loss but not about the mechanics of this new world. We get the ‘no baseball’ shot and all we get afterward are ‘people miss the missing people’. But restaurants still exist? Businesses are functioning? (Wouldn’t New York run kind of smoother if it wasn’t overpopulated?) I feel like we were invited to start thinking about how this dystopia works, but were never given answers. (There are so many interpretations of how things could go wrong if certain people just disappeared, and their knowledge/access were suddenly unavailable, and none of it was explored, even briefly, outside of establishing shots.)

The Garden Planet - it’s discovery, the traveling to it, the fight there - lacked emotional grounding in a way I find hard to explain. The audience was excited for Brie Larson being a fucking boss, and the quick execution of the grab-him-and-cut-his-arm-off plan was satisfying, but the twist and subsequent letdown was just a weird beat after a slog to get there, after waiting on a deep letdown beat from the last movie.

Last thing about flow and emotional beats, because I want to move on to character analysis, and this is a huge one for me: Clint’s fight in Tokyo and Steve’s fight with himself were some of the biggest missed opportunities in the entire film.

Not counting the football field brawl at the end, which I don’t count as a real fight scene, these are the two major fight scenes of the entire film and as far as I can tell, there was no effort made to make these showpieces. They went to the trouble of bringing Clint to Bladerunner Central, and pit him against the last bastion of aesthetic-obsessed mafia in the world. The panning camera in the interior as Hawkeye fought goons brushed past lazy fight scenes that only showed who was winning, not the brutality that Clint was supposedly falling into, not the grit of this new awful world, just... shapeless dark bodies getting thrown through windows? And on top of that, they could have made up (or picked from canon) any Big Bad to pit him against outside in the street, and we get an Orientalist sword fight that could have fit in nicely on a CW superhero show, and some of the most unnecessary exposition dialogue I have ever heard. Someone bothered to weave Clint’s arc in earlier, with Rhodey explaining to Natasha that Clint’s gone International and also Worryingly Dark. Why the fuck do we have the ‘I’ll give you anything you want’ line, on the rotten cherry on top of ‘stop being mean to the yakuza, we didn’t start it’? You already covered his motivations with the cold open.

And while Steve’s fight ended in a FABULOUSLY HEARTBREAKING WAY, the fight itself was nothing - you can pick little character details out like how they both ditched their shields almost immediately, and it was funny that Then-Steve mistook Now-Steve for Loki in the first place, but it was still a completely lost opportunity to get one true superhero battle in this three-hour slog. Both Steves could have gotten up and carried out the rest of the narrative after a decent brawl, but instead they fall a great distance after some blocked shots and it... was nothing? Missed opportunity for some cool shit.

Okay, skipping to character assessments now:

Clint’s character has been mishandled from the beginning and this seemed to be the “better late than never” eleventh hour arc. Except the end of the arc is unclear - it made sense for him to fall apart after losing his Shoehorn Family, but how did Natasha’s choice to fall do anything but fridge someone else, with more agency this time? It makes Natasha noble, which she already was, and it made her win against Clint, which I appreciate, but Natasha didn’t need salvation through death and Clint learns nothing by getting them back, just experiences relief.

Bruce. I want to say, first, that I love Hulk in a Cardigan. Cardihulk can stay. I want fanart, I want t-shirts, give me all of it. But Bruce’s explanation of “I scienced it so I could get the best of both worlds” only gives us half of the acceptance that Banner’s character is already working towards. As we saw most explicitly in Ragnarok, the Hulk isn’t just a physical form, he has his own separate consciousness, originally defined by rage but revealed to be more complicated. Bruce merging into Cardihulk seems to have... erased Hulk’s separate consciousness without merging it into himself? If there had been some acknowledgement of a second voice still within him that shot out opinions or demands for certain menu items in the diner, this would have been a much cleaner end to his arc, which has been equally messy between actor and narrative shifts.

Speaking of Ragnarok... it’s time! Are you ready? Have you read articles about the Gambit Gambit too? Are you fucking depressed that a fat suit was used for comedy gags in the year of our lord 2019? Because I was. The Russos seemed to... not struggle with what progress Ragnarok had put onto Bruce and Thor’s characters, but reject it. This movie’s Thor was anxious for laughs, was desperate for easy answers to a a feeling of lost heroism, and it didn’t feel like a familiar character. The time-travel scene with his mother wrapped it up very elegantly, and was well performed, but that scene didn’t need to follow a series of “chunky drunk in sweatpants” jokes to show us that Thor was struggling. Everyone in the film is fucking holding on by their fingernails, but only one is played for cheap laughs.

At least we get the bisexual Asgard lady king we deserved.

Tony got the right death. He got a hero’s death and Pepper’s last lines of “you can rest now” were exactly the right lines to wrap up an arc characterized by fear and a desire to protect and control at any cost. I knew the MCU was never going to really acknowledge that Tony’s The Problem, even with lines like ‘you should have let me do the fascist robot thing, that was gonna work fine’ thrown around pretty much as soon as he touches down on earth again.

I’m not sure if there’s much to say about Natasha. It was fitting that she was running HQ, that she was struggling, that she was rejecting emotional help from Steve but clearly still close with him. Seeing her break down after hearing the report on Clint felt right after, I think, being told by several directors (or making the personal acting choice? idk) to just be as flat and as decolletagey as possible. And again, while I feel like she would be self-sacrificing on that cliffisde if given the opportunity, and that she would win, the narrative choice to place her there and have that be her end didn’t really give her anything she didn’t already have. She had nothing to prove.

I have a hard time really laying out my thoughts on Steve without launching into the pregnant absence of Bucky, but I’m going to try. Chris Evans did a good job being the emotional heart of a really fractured story with a lot of conflicting pieces. Seeing him lead a talk therapy session after The Snap seemed very out of character for him until one realizes that Sam isn’t there to lead it himself. His scene offering help to Natasha was another good scene between them proving that not every m/f relationship has to be sexual to be interesting or add to the plot. His leadership speech during the Stupid Fucking Slow-Mo Heroes’ Walk to the platform was well done and makes me think of what could have been for the MCU, if they’d ever just let them be a cohesive found-family team for twenty minutes and let them fight some doom-bots or something. Fuck. Imagine.

Something weirdly satisfying about the deceitful ‘hail hydra’ line in the elevator. Yes? Yes.

The hammer scene was satisfying to me without being too gratuitous, but I’ll acknowledge that some people weren’t into it. Having paid more attention to Steve’s arc than most, I’ll argue that he earned it several times over.

His ending - that is, the secret life he alludes to but doesn’t explicitly reveal to Sam - is earned too. I’ve read at least one thing saying that Steve’s arc was all about him learning to let go, but that’s... never what Steve does. Not at the end of any arc, of any comic story, does Steve let go. Not of his principles, not of the people he loves, he is always “Thinking... Thinking About Bucky!” and getting in fights he can’t necessarily win. So I don’t think his final ending is ever Learning to Let Go. I think it’s fair that it’s Just Once, Just This One Time, Getting What You Want And Getting To Enjoy It.

And now I’m backtracking to Bucky. I’ve read one article already that theorizes that Steve’s arc, which was highly prioritized, included literally as little direct interaction with Bucky as possible because... the MCU? the Russos? Marvel?... is aware that Steve/Bucky is the most popular same-sex ship in the MCU. And that’s tiresome as fuck but I think there’s some truth to it. I wonder if, like in Civil War, we’ll hear later from the actors that a lot of contextual one-on-one scenes were shot and then mysteriously cut from the final edit.

I will say that in my head, Bucky is relaxed when Steve goes back in time for the final time, and lets Sam goes to talk with Steve one-on-one at the bench, because Bucky is not worried if Steve will come back, and does not feel a need to check on Steve on the bench. Because, like Peggy, Bucky has been getting secret visits too. Maybe as far back as during his time in Wakanda, but certainly since the final fight with Thanos. Bucky was calm because he already knew. He didn’t miss Steve because Steve hadn’t given him an opportunity to do so.

#mcu #endgame #endgame spoilers #mcu spoilers

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tinytony-snack · 5 years

Text

The perfect name

Tony was so not pleased. In fact, he was the least satisfied man in the entire universe, and he totally blamed Steve for that. His boyfriend knew that Tony was in a unique status and he needed more attention than anybody else, all his urges to be satisfied, and all his wishes to be granted. He tried to calm down, and to think only about the most positive effects of his situation. While looking at himself in the mirror, examining the freshly trimmed goatee, he caressed absently his big and round maternity belly. He didn’t think he was fat, because he wasn’t, and that was probably the first time he admitted it to himself. He wouldn’t have said it out loud of course, or he should have stopped whining. His Peanut was almost ready to be born, one another good point of being pregnant, together with a shinier and smoother skin, and the undivided attention of all the people who gathered around. Most of them used to think he had to be helped to do everything, since he was almost nine months pregnant. At the start of the pregnancy, Tony hated everyone who had dared to think he had become suddenly incapable to take care of himself... More than usual. Then, he experienced extreme tiredness, unexpected irritation and he found very satisfying looking at people do things for him: it was like he was in command again. After Pepper became CEO of his company, and since Steve was the Captain of the Avengers, all that remained to him were insubordinate bots and a sassy A.I. Sadly, on that particular day his beautiful look and the thought of his Peanut safe inside him weren’t enough to cheer him up. That morning, he decided to pick up again the project to find a name for the baby. They knew it was a boy. He could never have waited to know the sex, and even if Steve had been initially quite interested those gender reveal baby shower, Tony already knew the only curiosity that could ever have competed with his own belonged to his mate. He would have always called the baby ‘Peanut’ in his mind, but the little creature needed a real name. Tony tried for weeks to convince Steve that they were famous enough to choose an extravagant name, but eventually the baby wasn’t even the size of a peanut anymore. And he wasn’t really as much frivolous as he used to show, maybe just an 80% of it. Revising all the names he and Steve chose during the past months, he asked JARVIS to elaborate the data to examine different names that were still comparable to their favorite ones, and among all the choices he read ‘Godfrey’. That name was immediately wiped out from the hologram slide, but for some reason, it remained stuck in his mind. When he understood the cause, he had to take a nice long bath in order to keep calm. Godfrey vaguely sounded like coffee, the nectar of the gods – even though they didn’t have coffee on Asgard – that he wasn’t allowed to drink anymore. They said he would have gotten used to not drinking it anymore, but those people didn’t know that Tony’s body was made up for the 60% of that brown, hot, delicious beverage. People like Steve, and, well, Rhodey, Pepper, Natasha, Clint, Bruce, JARVIS, that Omega girl at the reception of S.I… It surely was a long list, but only one of them had promised to take care of him in every way possible. And Steve made him swear off caffeine. The father of his baby, his life mate, his Alpha. Made. Him. Swear off. Tony finished to dress and stomped to the kitchen of the Tower’s common floor. He decided long time ago to use the common floor, not only because the rest of the Avengers gathered around there, but also because he had a valid excuse to walk. It didn’t matter that most of the time he had Steve carry him all the way down. Anyway, that particular morning he wanted to make everybody hear his unhappy, heavy steps. “Morning, sweet Omega,” Natasha greeted him, waving her cup of tea. Tony loved when she called him sweet Omega, it made him scrunch his nose and feeling a warm sensation in the chest. Nat had always been the coolest, after him, and if she had been less scary, taller, more muscular, blonde, and… Well, male, she would have been just his type. Anyway, that morning he didn’t feel sweet at all. So, he went straight behind his Alpha, he put both hands on the hips and he showed himself as angry and irremovable as possible. At least, that was what he thought he looked from the outside. If asked to the two Alphas in the room, they would have said that Tony looked like a tiny and pouty ball of frustration, with the cutest fluffy head. Steve turned around in that moment, with the biggest smile on his face, that it rapidly became a furrowed expression. “We need to talk,” Tony announced. “Everything’s okay?” Steve asked surprised, already looking down at his belly. “No Steve, everything’s not okay. And you know it,” He growled, waving both hands in the air. Not a single Alpha in his life had ever stopped him from growling, he wasn’t scared to deal with any kind of person. Steve’s hand was soon on his abdomen, and he was frowning. “Is the baby fine? Did anything happen while I was running? JARVIS didn’t tell me any-” He spoke quickly, already worrying so much. It wasn’t fair: Steve entered in his worried and very hot dad mode, which was still kind of new for Tony to refrain from instantly melting. It also meant that he could have been able to effortlessly obtain an extra dose of cuddles and a massage. He had to shake his head to keep his thoughts in order. “The baby’s fine,” He reassured, and Steve’s body relaxed. “But I’m not, Steve, I’m carrying around a pretty big responsibility here, my back is aching and you weren’t there when I woke up- I know that you need your morning routine as much as I need my lab’s hours, and your scent was still on the bed so I didn’t really feel alone or bad, but, uhm, but, my point is… I - I’m rabbling.” He sighed loudly. “I love to hear you ramble, Omega.” Steve offered, starting to gently pet his hair. Tony looked into his mate’s eyes, which were adoring and fantastic as always. Them alone were enough to made him feel loved and cared, the most important person in Steve’s world. And he was distracting again, but how could he not, when the Alpha’s big hands were one on his belly and one through his hair. His head had been his weakest spot for a long time, but it wasn’t the only significant anymore. “I want coffee, Steve,” He blurted, much less firm than he would have wanted. The fact was, he was trying really hard not to melt in the touch and purring out load. “I really need it, and I - uh, I - had JARVIS buy a new coffee machine earlier” He wanted to cover his mouth as soon as he spoke. He wasn’t supposed to tell that! He was supposed to stand up and fight for his rights! “You what?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow. They looked each other in the eyes, then the Alpha sighed in disapproval and closed his eyes for few seconds. “Oh Tony, we discussed it so many times. You can’t have it, it ain’t healthy for the baby, and for you either” His words sounded tired, and maybe that was because the argument came up once a month, at least. But Tony didn’t want to focus on those pointless details. The Omega didn’t really like that ‘you can’t have it’, because if he needed something, he would obtain it, no ifs or buts. He glared at the Alpha with his chin up. “I can and I will, Rogers! You’ll see,” Tony threaten harshly. Then he moved to pick his favorite mug from the shelf, the one with Captain America’s shield on it that always made Steve smile, but the real Captain moved faster and stole it before Tony had the chance to catch it. “Omega, no,” Steve used his Alpha’s voice, the one that had made Tony’s legs tremble since the first time he heard it. “You can’t stop me,” He growled again. He had no intention to give up. The rational Tony, who knew that he had to resist the urge to drink something bad for his Peanut, was suffering from withdrawal and wasn’t able to think clearly. The Omega tried to take the mug off Steve’s hand, but the bastard lifted his arm too high for his height, so he started to whine and to complaining as they moved around the kitchen like children who were playing tag. Only slower, because Tony was still very pregnant, and Steve didn’t want him to be hurt. In the meantime, Natasha had just pointed her phone’s camera one them, very discreetly. Any time was a good time to get blackmailing and compromising material on his friends. Suddenly, Tony stopped. His eyes were fixed in Steve’s, burning with rage and anger, the same emotions that were motivating him to stay up. He extended one arm behind himself and opened his palm. “Send me Mark 47’s gauntlet J. I have an Alpha to blast,” He commanded, with a guttural growl. They were only wasting energy, energies that he didn’t have, because Steve didn’t allow him to drink his fucking coffee. “Fine,” Steve finally said, opening his arms exasperated. Tony’s eyes went from the Alpha to his mug and backwards, warily. He had different tactics to win a fight of course and annoying his enemy as much as possible was one of his favorites, together with talking until they felt disoriented. But he also knew better, and Steve Rogers never surrendered so easily, neither in the battleground nor in his everyday life. Especially not with Tony. “You can have all the coffee you want, if you’ll pick up the mug,” He added, with a smirk. Then, he put the mug on the floor at Tony’s feet and he crossed his arms, after he returned straight, as to state how much of a little shit he was. His gaze never left Tony’s fuming face. There was a chuckle from Natasha, and an outraged gasp from Tony, whose mouth dropped open. “You... didn’t just do that,” Tony hesitated, mouth pulling down into a frown. “I think I did,” Steve pointed out cheekily. “Don’t want it anymore?” “You put - You put -” Tony looked down, looking so hurt that Steve almost went down again to get back the mug. Almost. “Irritating Alpha, you know I can’t bend over!” Tony cried. “Is this the kind of respect you have for the father of your son?” He waved his hands like crazy. It would have been adorable, if he wasn’t getting so angry. “What’s happening?” Clint’s head popped up behind the door. He seemed confused, but one look at the bickering couple and at the mug on the floor were enough to understand the situation. “Uh,” He sat near Natasha, but on the table. Clint valued his life to interfere, but it didn’t mean just observing would have been less fun. “Oh, I’ll tell you what’s going on,” Tony snapped, pulling out his Starkphone. He wasn’t going to lose or changing his mind that time. Perhaps he already forgot his withdrawal from caffeine, but there still was his pride at stake. He couldn’t believe his Alpha would have left him die of thirst… Or worse, that he mocked him about his pregnancy. He saw Steve raising a questioning eyebrow. He probably had that look on his face more times since Tony became pregnant, than in all his life. The Omega knew his pregnancy wasn’t the quietest of all, exactly the opposite: he was having a lot of pregnancy cravings, and half of the times Steve provided him with the food he desired, he ended up rejecting it because of a bad smell or a sudden change of heart. Then, the hormones, ugh. If they were on a date and he saw any kind of puppies, tears would fill his eyes even in the middle of the street. He went crazy when someone said they weren’t watching WALL-E for the 18th times, and he forgot his anger just a moment later, when Steve started telling stories to their baby. Given the circumstances, his mate didn’t deserve his current outburst, but it was too hard to control his emotions. “Who are you calling?” Steve asked suspiciously. When he ignored the Alpha, also turning on another side, he felt his own skin burning. Steve hated when his Omega pretended, his Alpha’s instincts required full attention. “I bet he’s calling Colonel Rhodes to give you one of his shovel talks” Clint joked, even if that would have been a realistic situation. “That would be the third one. This month only” Considered Natasha, without even trying to hide the amusement note in her voice. “Hey miss Potts, why you didn’t answer by the first ring? I don’t care that you were on a meeting, listen to me - Yes, you aren’t my assistant anymore, but that doesn’t mean - No, I can’t tell you what I want, because you won’t let me finish talking!” There were screaming on both sides of the line, as usual. “I need Jason Momoa’s number. Steve and I didn’t have any fight, why would you think - Listen Pep, light of my life, I need his number, please just do me a favor? But I am asking nicely - Because I wanna raise my child with him!” He blurted it out with a high-pitched voice. And that was the real moment when things turned bad. Or very, very good. Steve roared from the depths of his throat, and Tony could have sworn that the whole Tower trembled by the power of that sound. Natasha and Clint chose to leave in that moment, covered by the sound of the Starkphone hitting the floor. Tony barely had time to realize what was happening, that he had Steve on him, and his strong scent all around him. He felt his mouth dry and his eyes spreading. “What have you just said, my Omega?” Steve asked in a husky voice, the words roughened at the end. The next growl reverberated through the Alpha’s chest and made his entire body shivered in expectation. Tony started to say he hadn’t really meant it, that it was just his silly pregnant self speaking, but then Steve’s teeth landed on his neck, over his bonding mark, over his heart beat, digging in enough to make him gasp. Nothing made him feel as defenseless as his Alpha’s possessiveness. “You threatened me to raise our son with another man? Another Alpha?” Steve roared the words on his ear, and the he held his breath when the Alpha put a possessive hand at the back of his neck, the eyes sliding dark blue. Tony really tried to find the correct answer, but it didn’t exist, there wasn’t anything right to say at that point. He screwed up, he freaked out instead of reflecting and then his head became too fuzzy to actually think. He opened the mouth and closed it right after, because he would have just made things worse. Steve was watching him like he was the most inviting prey, knowing Tony didn’t have any way out. The Omega wasn’t scared of him, he was hyper conscious of Steve’s power and aroused by it, but never terrified. The Alpha acting so jealous was another proof of their wonderful love, and Tony never loved so much to be an Omega. So many things changed since they had met. He spent almost all his life being adamant about not being matched, fighting all the Omegas’ stereotypes, revolutionizing the way they were seen, rejecting every Alphas and Betas’ bullshits. He was considered the living example of thriving, successful Omega who fulfilled himself without a mate. When he met Captain America and they started living in the same place, he didn’t want Steve to act like an Alpha, also detesting being called Omega by him. And still, he had been such a good man to him… Instead of talking, he did what any Omega in love would do: started looking up at him halfway through his eyelashes, tilted his head to side, showing his neck where Steve put his mark when he claimed him, and purred low in his throat until the Alpha growled deeply. “That’s right Tony,” Steve breathed the words into his mate’s neck, praising him with soft kisses and small bites up to the soft spot behind his hear. “You’re so good like this sweetheart, so pretty. Sweet, perfect and submissive for me, aren’t you?” Tony moaned sweetly, wrapping both arms around Steve’s neck and pulling him closer, feeling instantly very pleased. The irritation that usually flooded him after being exposed in that way never brushed him, because it was his Alpha, and as Omega all his instincts were irrationally screaming that the Alpha would have done everything if he was submissive enough… “I’m sorry - I’m sorry Steve, Alpha,” He cried in another sudden change of heart, then stood on his toes to kiss him lovingly with a touch of anxiety. Steve promptly hugged him tightly, paying attention to his strength to not hurt Tony and the baby. Always so caring, his Alpha. “I’m all yours, we are - Alpha, I need -” And as the demanding Omega he actually was, he needed much more than kisses. Fuck, he needed his mate to put both hands low on his ass to pull him up and pin him against a wall, then leave love bites on his exposed skin, ripping off his pants and pressing a knee between his legs, so he would have been blocked, and panting, and desperate. “I’ve got you love” Steve’s words were full of wicked promises that made him whimper out load. They crushed their mouth together in a hard kiss that muffled every sound for a long minute, and when Tony’s leg went around Steve’s waist, the Alpha automatically helped him resting his leg up there, pressing a hand under his thigh. The Omega’s purring echoed in the room, and he got his fingers tangled in Steve’s blonde hair, tugging enough to make the Alpha groan. When Steve pulled away just enough to bit at his bottom lip, his mouth fell open on a sigh, letting his mate shoving his tongue past his lips again, to taste him selfishly. It was becoming hard to breath, even more when Steve’s other hand slid under his sweater and it settled on his belly. That gesture alone was enough to made Tony melt trustfully against him. He had an Alpha, and he was about to give birth to their first, beautiful, perfect son. “B-back to bed” Tony could barely talk, and he slurred his word in the lowest voice. Steve let go of his leg, but he continued to hold him with a firm arm around his waist and Tony was very relieved to share his own weight. After all, he hadn’t mated a super soldier for nothing. Then they pressed their foreheads together, Tony still mewling and moaning slightly, out of breath, Steve with the warmest gaze and fondest smile. “I’ve a better idea,” Steve started, and his smile became a grin. He pressed one fingertip under Tony’s chin to made him lift his head up, their lips separated just by an inch. “One that will put your sweet mouth to better use” Tony moaned again, stirring like a kitten against Steve’s muscled body, so soft and firm at the same. The Alpha also had the best scent: Tony’ sense of smell was badly affected by the whole maternity thing, but his Alpha’s scent just got better day after day. Thrilled by Steve’s possible idea, he dotted kissed long his jawline, growling happily and making his mate chuckling. Everybody thought he had the cutest growl and it was true, either when he was upset or delighted. He only hoped that the idea wouldn’t have required himself on his knees, because frankly, that would have been beyond his current physical abilities. But he would’ve totally agreed to lie down on the bed, both Steve and him on one side, his hot mouth wrapped around the Alpha’s big cock- Steve picked him up effortlessly, both arms under his knees and his back, and for once Tony didn’t complain at all. He always had a thing for Steve’s show of strength. “Oh Steve, you know I wasn’t serious before, right? You are such a good Alpha to me, the best, and you will be a great dad, and - and -” He was switching from talking to kissing, touches light as butterflies. “And - You are putting me on a chair. Why are you putting me on a chair, honey? I, well, I’m still very flexible but this position seems excessive also - mmpff” /> Steve indeed put his Omega on a chair, one protective hand swirled over his belly, then shut him up with a long, deep kiss. Steve proved many times that his tongue alone was able to make Tony speechless, in more than one way, and places. “Because,” Steve chanted, moving towards the kitchen, leaving behind a pretty aroused and confused Omega. “I’m making you breakfast, you haven’t eaten yet. What kind of Alpha would I be if I didn’t feed my mate before bringing him back to bed? To rest, of course” Tony’s mouth fell open as he stared at Steve’s back, who first scooped the forgotten mug and Starkphone up off the floor, then he totally focused on heating the waffle machine. Then, the Omega started to babble and to stutter words, glaring at his mate who answered docilly, patronizing him just to keep him quiet and get him to eat. “Hey Stevie, Tony. What dat waffle did ya?” Bucky showed up some time later, finding his best friend sipping milk, sat next to his Omega, who was stabbing an innocent waffle. Steve gave him a lopsided grin, while Tony murmured something, stuffing more food in his mouth. Bucky recognized the words “cruel Alpha”, “troll” and a swear - Not a very bad one, they had been banished since Tony was seven months pregnant. “It reminded him that he’s pregnant, he has to avoid certain things and he can’t call Jason Momoa. Otherwise, this waffle will take him to the hospital and ask the doctor to put him on bed rest for the remainder of the pregnancy” “Hate that doctor. He do’s anythin’ Cap tells him” Tony grumbled, and Steve nodded with proud. “’s just a scared little sh-” Steve let out a cough, disapproving the poor choice of words, stopping him. He had a point anyway: Steve hadn’t exactly been polite to Tony’s gynecologist at first, or to the nursing staff, even if they had chosen only Betas. He hated leaving his Omega in someone else’s care and he snapped all around without control. The gynecologist had to sit down with Steve and let him know with extreme precision and caution the next steps he would have done with Tony, until the Alpha regained his senses. Then, he gave everyone his golden boy smile, flexed the biceps – he didn’t, but that’s what Tony used to say – and made his excuses with the biggest puppy dog eyes. At that point, it was Tony’s turn to get jealous. Bucky’s eyebrows were furrowed, mouth set in an unimpressed line. “I’ll just pretend to understand and that ya gonna be totally normal parents for Peter” “For whom?” Steve asked absently, his eyes remained fix on the grumpy Omega. “Uh, your future child? Peanut, Tony’s excuse to make us do what he wants whenever he wants. Seriously Stevie, what’s going on?” The corner of Tony’s mouth quirked up in a satisfied grin, before he really thought about Bucky’s word. “You said Peter,” Steve pointed out. “No, I didn’t. Why the he- Why would I say dat?” An angry glare from Steve made him rephrase the question. “I dunno, maybe you were just-” “Oh my god,” Tony exhaled, before Steve had a chance to finish his sentence. His eyes widened as he glanced at Bucky, then he found his mate’s gaze and his mouth opened in the most stunning smile he had, the one that created little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. “We got it,” He managed to say through a soft whisper. He felt too overwhelmed by happiness and his voice broke into a cry when he repeated the words: “We- We got it” He saw Steve’s pupils flaring, his lips parting a little when he understood what Tony was saying. “You like the name?” He asked, voice full of hope. “Oh, Alpha. I love the name,” He announced while throwing himself at Steve, as much as his big belly allowed him, without lifting up from the chair. Steve turned to catch him instinctively, and he circled his body with both arms, hugging tightly. Tears filled the Omega’s eyes, but he hid them burying his face in Steve’s neck and hugging back with the same strength. “We’re having a Peter then?” Bucky asked, getting closer to the happy couple. “Yes!” Tony squeaked, at the same time as Steve asked, “We?” with a smug grin painted on his lips, never letting go of his Omega. “Yeah, we. He already changed our lives and he isn't even born yet. Dat child will have secret agents, spies, a god, super soldiers and men with the greatest minds of the century as family, and still, he’ll hold all of us right there in the palm of his small hand. I already see ya both: the softest dads, head over heels in love with a baby that’ll have Tony’s genius and your ability for gettin’ into trouble.”

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weareasong · 5 years

Text

...

Look, I was gonna go easy on you not to hurt your feelings

But I'm only going to get this one chance (Six minutes, six minutes)

Something's wrong, I can feel it (Six minutes)

Just a feeling I've got (Six minutes, Slim Shady, you're on)

Like something's about to happen, but I don't know what

If that means what I think it means, we're in trouble, big trouble

And if he is as bananas as you say, I'm not taking any chances

You are just what the doc ordered

I'm beginnin' to feel like a Rap God, Rap God

All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod

Now, who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box?

They said I rap like a robot, so call me rap-bot

But for me to rap like a computer must be in my genes

I got a laptop in my back pocket

My pen'll go off when I half-cock it

Got a fat knot from that rap profit

Made a livin' and a killin' off it

Ever since Bill Clinton was still in office

With Monica Lewinsky feeling on his, nutsack

I'm an MC still as honest

But as rude and as indecent as all hell

Syllables, skill-a-holic (Kill 'em all with)

This flippity dippity-hippity hip-hop

You don't really wanna get into a pissin' match

With this rappity brat, packin' a MAC in the back of the Ac'

Backpack rap crap, yap-yap, yackety-yack

And at the exact same time

I attempt these lyrical acrobat stunts while I'm practicing that

I'll still be able to break a motha-fuckin' table

Over the back of a couple of faggots and crack it in half

Only realized it was ironic

I was signed to Aftermath after the fact

How could I not blow?

All I do is drop F-bombs

Feel my wrath of attack

Rappers are having a rough time period, here's a maxi pad

It's actually disastrously bad for the wack

While I'm masterfully constructing this master piece as

Cause I'm beginnin' to feel like a Rap God, Rap God

All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod

Now, who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box?

Let me show you maintaining this shit ain't that hard, that hard

Everybody want the key and the secret to rap immortality like I have got

Well, to be truthful the blueprint's

Simply rage and youthful exuberance

Everybody loves to root for a nuisance

Hit the Earth like an asteroid

Did nothing but shoot for the moon since (Pew)

MC's get taken to school with this music

Cause I use it as a vehicle to "bus the rhyme"

Now I lead a new school full of students

Me? I'm a product of Rakim, Lakim Shabazz, 2Pac

N.W.A, Cube, hey, Doc, Ren, Yella, Eazy, thank you, they got Slim

Inspired enough to one day grow up

Blow up and be in a position

To meet Run-D.M.C

Induct them into the mothafuckin' Rock 'n

Roll Hall of Fame

Even though I'll walk in the church and burst in a ball of flames

Only Hall of Fame I'll be inducted in is the alcohol of fame

On the wall of (Shame)

You fags think it's all a game, 'til I walk a flock of flames

Off a plank and tell me what in the fuck are you thinking?

Little gay-lookin boy

So gay I can barely say it with a 'straight' face, lookin' boy

You're witnessing a mass-occur

Like you're watching a church gathering take place, looking boy

Oy vey, that boy's gay, that's all they say, looking boy

You get a thumbs up, pat on the back

And a "way to go" from your label every day, looking boy

Hey, looking boy, what you say, looking boy

I get a "hell yeah" from Dre, looking boy

I'ma work for everything I have, never ask nobody for shit

Get outta my face, looking boy

Basically, boy, you're never gonna be capable of keeping up

With the same pace, looking boy

Cause I'm beginnin' to feel like a Rap God, Rap God

All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod

The way I'm racing around the track, call me NASCAR, NASCAR

Dale Earnhardt of the trailer park, the White Trash God

Kneel before General Zod this planet's Krypton-no Asgard, Asgard

So you be Thor and I'll be Odin, you rodent, I'm omnipotent

Let off then I'm reloading immediately with these bombs I'm toting

And I should not be woken

I'm the walking dead

But I'm just a talking head, a zombie floating

But I got your mom deep throating

I'm out my Ramen Noodle

We have nothing in common, poodle

I'm a Doberman, pinch yourself in the arm and pay homage, pupil

It's me my honesty's brutal

But it's honestly futile if I don't utilize what I do though

For good at least once in a while

So I wanna make sure somewhere

In this chicken scratch I scribble and doodle

Enough rhymes to

Maybe try to help get some people through tough times

But I gotta keep a few punchlines

Just in case cause even you unsigned

Rappers are hungry looking at me like it's lunchtime

I know there was a time where once I, was king of the underground

But I still rap like I'm on my Pharoahe Monch grind

So I crunch rhymes, but sometimes when you combine

Appeal with the skin color of mine

You get too big and here they come trying to censor you like that one line

I said on "I'm Back" from the Mathers LP 1

When I tried to say: "I'll take seven kids from Columbine

Put 'em all in a line, add an AK-47, a revolver and a nine"

See if I get away with it now that I ain't as big as I was but I'm

Morphin' into an immortal

Coming through the portal

You're stuck in a time warp from 2004, though

And I don't know what the fuck that you rhyme for

You're pointless as Rapunzel with fuckin' cornrows

You write normal? Fuck being normal

And I just bought a new raygun from the future

Just to come and shoot ya, like when Fabolous made Ray J mad

'Cause Fab said he looked like a fag at Mayweather's pad

Singing to a man while they played piano

So Ray J went straight to the radio station

The very next day, "Hey Fab, I'ma kill you!"

Lyrics coming at you at supersonic speed (J.J. Fad)

Uh, summa-lumma, dooma-lumma, you assuming I'm a human

What I gotta do to get it through to you? I'm superhuman

Innovative and I'm made of rubber

So that anything you say is ricocheting off of me and it'll glue to you and

I'm devastating, more than ever demonstrating

How to give a mothafuckin' audience a feeling like it's levitating

Never fading, and I know the haters are forever waiting

For the day that they can say I fell off, they'll be celebrating

'Cause I know the way to get 'em motivated

I make elevating music, you make elevator music

"Oh, he's too mainstream"

Well, that's what they do when they get jealous, they confuse it

"It's not hip-hop, it's pop"

'Cause I found a hella way to fuse it

With rock, shock rap with Doc

Throw on "Lose Yourself" and make 'em lose it

"I don't know how to make songs like that

I don't know what words to use"

Let me know when it occurs to you

While I'm ripping any one of these verses that versus you

It's curtains, I'm inadvertently hurting you

How many verses I gotta murder to

Prove that if you were half as nice

Your songs you could sacrifice virgins too?

Ugh, school flunky, pill junkie

But look at the accolades, these skills brung me

Full of myself, but still hungry

I bully myself cause I make me do what I put my mind to

When I'm a million leagues above you

Ill when I speak in tongues

But it's still tongue-in-cheek, fuck you

I'm drunk so Satan take the fucking wheel

I'm asleep in the front seat

Bumping Heavy D and the Boyz

Still "Chunky but Funky"

But in my head there's something I can feel tugging and struggling

Angels fight with devils and here's what they want from me

They're asking me to eliminate some of the women hate

But if you take into consideration the bitter hatred I have

Then you may be a little patient and more sympathetic

To the situation and understand the discrimination

But fuck it

Life's handing you lemons, make lemonade then

But if I can't batter the women

How the fuck am I supposed to bake them a cake then?

Don't mistake him for Satan

It's a fatal mistake

If you think I need to be overseas and take a vacation

To trip abroad

And make her fall on her face and don't be a retard

Be a king? Think not

Why be a king when you can be a God?

(end)

#music #soundcloud #lyrics #eminem #rap god

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eggoreviews · 5 years

Text

Playstation All Stars 2 - Dream Roster! (PART 1)

I love Smash a lot. And I really wish that PS All Stars was a bit, you know, better. A few mechanical tweaks and the addition of some sorely missed character could turn All Stars into a genuinely awesome fighter, so here’s my dream roster for if Sony did ever attempt to clean up the slight mess they made the first time.

Note: I’ve cut a few from the first game. I’m keeping it to one character per franchise. There’s 42 altogether (because I don’t know when to stop) so here’s the first 21!

Aloy (Horizon Zero Dawn)

Here’s a fairly obvious pick, with Horizon being one of the Playstation’s most recent flagship RPGs. The star of Sony’s answer to Breath of the Wild but with added machine animals, Aloy’s tale of discovering her place in her beautiful, post-apocalyptic world is certainly a heartfelt one and it’s easy to get attached to. Plus, she has her bow, spear, traps and focus chip, so the moveset just sort of makes itself.

Astro Bot (Astro Bot: Rescue Mission)

The arguable mascot of Playstation VR, I think Astro Bot would be an unusual fighter, yet a perfect fit into an All Stars sequel. I’m sure they can think of a cool moveset from Rescue Mission and his brief cameos in the VR Playroom! I mean, if Nintendo can weaponise the Wii Fit Trainer, Sony have it easy with Astro Bot.

Big Daddy (Bioshock series)

The first character I’m carrying over from the first game, I think Big Daddy is just such a surprising character that I didn’t have the heart to cut him out. He’s a cool looking robot and I really liked Bioshock Infinite. So Daddio stays.

Cloud (Final Fantasy VII)

In an act I can only describe as ‘big oof’, Nintendo managed to swipe up Cloud to appear in a certain other fighting series, despite the fact that Cloud is most heavily associated with Playstation. And his home game is the most iconic game on the PS1. Hey, I’m not saying I don’t want him in Smash (he’s my main I love my big sword twink), but can’t they share? He’s gotta be here too, come on.

Colonel Radec (Killzone series)

Being 100% honest right now, I know basically nothing about Killzone. But what I do know is this guy has a cool helmet and probably uses a lot of guns. So he can stick around I guess. Plus, I’ve been meaning to try Killzone out for a while.

Crash Bandicoot

As the previous mascot for the PS1, Crash was one of the most glaring omissions from the first game. He’s got enough different ways of jumping around and riding motorbikes to make for a cool moveset, so if they’re doing another one, Crash really does need to be onboard.

Dante (Devil May Cry series)

Dante is heckin cool and his moveset potential is awesome and that’s kind of all there is to it, so I think he kind of needs to come back. In terms of design, it doesn’t matter too much, but it would be REALLY cool if they either went back to the original PS2 design or to his new DMC5 model. Either way, Dante would be one people would miss.

Deacon St. John (Days Gone)

The protagonist in Sony’s upcoming zombie thing Days Gone seems like he’d pretty cool in a crossover fighter, that is if they can make him unique. I doubt having him run everyone over on his bike would quite cut it, but it seems like Days Gone is gonna be pretty good, hopefully good enough to justify his place here. Bring on the bike dad.

Delsin Rowe (InFAMOUS: Second Son)

I’ve replaced Cole MacGrath with the series’ most recent protagonist, Delsin Rowe. I feel like this chaotic rebel with big ol superpowers would fit just as well as Cole, but seems a little more recognisable due to him being a little more recent.

Doom Slayer (Doom)

A lot of people have been speculating that we could be seeing Doomguy in Smash, but I think there’d be much less need for censorship if we saw him in a PS All Stars. They wouldn’t even need to tone him down at all, he can just go full out gun. You can’t tell me that wouldn’t be fun.

Ellie (The Last of Us)

I mean yeah, there’s Joel, but I think Ellie would be the much cooler pick, especially now she’s all grown up in Part 2. Not the most obvious choice for an over the top crossover fighter, but The Last of Us is Playstation royalty, and by extension, Ellie. And hey, she has enough usage of cool weapons to keep her place on the roster so I would be more than down for this.

Emily Kaldwin (Dishonored series)

I think Emily is pretty much my most wanted character. I love Dishonored and I toyed around with Corvo in my head for a while, but ultimately settled on Emily because I think her powers are a bit cooler. Such an obvious fit if you think about it, with her cool shadow reach thing and all her weapons. Basically, she needs to be here.

Fat Princess

Who is Fat Princess? Does anyone actually know? Because I don’t. The pure enigma around her keeps her on the roster.

Geralt of Rivia (The Witcher series)

Monster hunter by trade. Wields two swords and a crossbow. Has access to several magic signs that allow to create magic traps or set things on fire. Plus, he’s the protagonist of one of the best RPGs of this console generation. Put him in pls.

Heihachi Mishima (Tekken series)

Another veteran I’m keeping, as I think the sequel would still need its representation from an actual fighting game. I mean, Nintendo got Street Fighter so it’s only fair Playstation get to keep Tekken. And no one’s gonna be mad, he’s from a fighting game so of course his moves would be cool.

The Hunter (Bloodborne)

It was either this guy or Solaire of Astora, so I thought I’d stick with the one that’s the PS exclusive. I imagine the Hunter as a fast-paced fighter who’s a bit jumpy, which would be a good contrast to some of the other heavier fighters. He’s got plenty going for him and he’s from a great game, so he seems an obvious choice.

Isaac Clarke (Dead Space)

Everyone’s favourite janitor who’s in way out of his depth, Isaac Clarke, is here to stay. Access to fun weapons and would probably be a nice break for him to fight Fat Princess rather than the necrofuckery he normally has to deal with. Oh, but don’t make him DLC this time.

Jak and Daxter

The poster boys of some of the best platforming on the PS2, these guys were clear picks for the first game and it’d be a little sad if you cut them from the sequel.

Joker (Persona 5)

I am BEYOND excited for my best boi to get into Smash, but it also makes a little too much sense he join in for an All Stars sequel. After all, P5 started life as and still is a PS4 exclusive, though I suppose that’s likely to change soon. Still, let him and Cloud join the fun too!

Kat and Dusty (Gravity Rush)

I have never played Gravity Rush, but I’ve heard that it’s pretty much amazing, so I thought I’d leave a spot for these two and carry them over. Plus, their designs are cool so I’m here for it.

Knack

Yeah, yeah, I know. Knack was kind of rubbish and Knack 2 was more rubbish. But how cool would Knack be in a fighting game? He could be a really technical fighter, switching between two separate movesets for his bigger and smaller forms, a bit like Pokemon Trainer in Smash. And he’s owned by Sony so he’d be easy to slot in. Sure the games weren’t great, but as a character concept, yes please.

So there’s the first half! Curious as to my other 21 picks? Drop in next week to see who they are! If you’ve got characters you’d like to see, let me know down below and we can all talk about a game that will probably never happen. Have a gr8 day.

#persona 5 #final fantasy #dishonored #the witcher #playstation #ps #list #gaming #gravity rush #horizon zero dawn #bioshock #killzone #Crash Bandicoot #devil may cry #the last of us #infamous #tekken

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chxrimoya · 5 years

Photo

im just posting this here so i have it later bc entertaining convo

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!

You both like anime.

You: hey whats up

Stranger: Not much, just chilling with my oniichan in my uchi you know?

You: damn wish i had an oniichan

You: im just hitoribocchi rn

Stranger: Yeah it's pretty easy to get when you are a kamisama like me you know?

Stranger: I am just a full on ikemen

Stranger: Got a harem

You: damn kamisama

You: gotta have a favorite tho right

Stranger: Of course

Stranger: Always the osananajimi

Stranger: Gotta respect the firsts

You: osananajimi always the best

You: maybe jus a little bit on tsun tsun, yknow

Stranger: Bro you understand me from my toes to my atama rn

Stranger: I like the kawaii girls that got the tsun tsun

You: damn bro im glad we could tsunagaru like this

Stranger: Bokumo I think this is a tokubestu connection

You: an honor for me to be nakama with kamisama

Stranger: I am laughing so hard rn I cant believe this is still going. Like majide??

You: sou, maji da yo

Stranger: Sounds like you study your nihongo all Majime and stuff

You: am i just gonna descend into full japanese

You: likewise my bro

Stranger: I think so my nakama

Stranger: Gotta go zenbu nihongo

You: it started as shuumi but now i have degree so

You: saikou no weeb da yo

Stranger: Oh I see bokumo started when I was a koukousei

You: i was only hontou majime when i was daigakusei

Stranger: Then I did it in Uni with a major in film minor in nihongo

Stranger: Okok

Stranger: 分かったwww

You: respect for my nakama to follow their dreams in kokosei

You: 草

You: i'm afraid i'm ちょっと下手 now from lack of use w

Stranger: これは最初に冗談だけど、ほんとに分かったwww

Stranger: Daijyoubu. I am the same

You: 感じ嫁できないｗ

You: i am a Fool in Man's Shoes

Stranger: Got my degree 3 years ago and habent studied since

You: what a fuckin mood

You: my usage is all in media consumption and music, honestly

Stranger: Okay kanjiless こらはさいしょにじょうだんだけど、ほんとにわかった

You: but i barely speak it lmao

Stranger: I see same

Stranger: I have no one to speak to

Stranger: Do you play games?

You: あぁそう、私も

Stranger: We could speak to each other! I was supposed to be sleeping so this must be fate

You: は～い

Stranger: Stay night

Stranger: If you know whatimean

You: I AM ZA BONE OBU MY SOARD

Stranger: What kind of games do you play? Any league or pubg?

You: i took a fat nap earlier so now i cant sleep

You: unmei da yo

Stranger: Hahah

Stranger: Where you from?

You: i quit league a while ago, but i was considering playing again tbh

Stranger: Omg

You: california!

Stranger: We can play together

Stranger: And talk

You: gonna have to catch me up on new meta tho

Stranger: Hey I am driving to LA in 2 hours lol

You: too many new items and changes MonkaS

Stranger: All good I'll nurture you my imouto

Stranger: XP

You: bruh good luck with the traffic lmao

You: only if i get sufficient headpats u_u

Stranger: I wanna die

Stranger: Of course you will! Uwu

Stranger: I always give cute bois headsets uwu

You: bro gimmie ya discord

Stranger: What's your discord?

You: ... bro

You: HAHA

You: eurae#9474

Stranger: We are on the same wavelength

You: icon should be of a nekomimi girl bc... im weak

Stranger: Added

Stranger: I think mine is a nekomimi boy so...

You: how can you be my kouhai if you're gonna be my oniichan :thinking:

Stranger: Shhhh

Stranger: Let it happen

You: so why you headed to LA anyway? work? o:

Stranger: Let this 23 yo onichan teach you the ways on how to be a bronze player in league of legends

You: bro we are the same age

Stranger: Work! I film!

Stranger: I am in Arizona rn

You: oh wow! do you travel a lot for work? o:

Stranger: From Canada tho! Going back tomorrow evening to the great white north!

Stranger: Here and there ^^

Stranger: I make the usual.

You: it's too hot here anyway q_q

Stranger: Wedding videos, music videos, commercials, porn

You: socal born and raised, still cant stand the heat

Stranger: Wait forget the last one

You: hey man why should i judge

Stranger: Which city?

You: how did our conversation start HAHA

Stranger: Haha just being silly xP

You: alhambra! it's about 30 mins out from LA

Stranger: Idk but it was amazing

Stranger: And it was fate legit

You: best laugh i've had in a while

Stranger: I was gonna sleep

You: honestly

Stranger: Before I clicked

Stranger: Then for some reason I didn't

Stranger: Idk shy

You: honestly i was about to close omegle because i kept getting kik bots

Stranger: Right????

Stranger: My god

You: "M 17 and horny" boy you are a MINOR

Stranger: The tag japanese is ONLY BOTS

Stranger: That's the one!!!

Stranger: Looking for weeb gf??

You: chris hansen? hello?

You: YEAH

You: almost got fuckin whiplash

Stranger: Omg

You: LOL

Stranger: Get Christmas on the line

You: konnichiwa keisatsu desuka?

Stranger: So you are Male too right just wondering?

Stranger: Loooool

You: 女だよ

Stranger: へええまじで

You: そうよ！変かなぁ？ｗｗ

You: girls dont exist on the internet right lmao

Stranger: Well in that case *flexes arms* I hope you know I am at the top of my class. I main Vayne. Hit silver 3 last season yeah I am a total stud

Stranger: Hahaha right??? I play with a few actually and it is toooo funny when we play league with randoms xD

You: bro i can be your support and get mad when i flash+all in and die bc no one else followed up

Stranger: Hontoni omoshiroi

You: or jungle and feed

Stranger: Looo

Stranger: All seriousness

Stranger: I dont main Vayne anymore lol

You: it's been an age man, i played season 3-4

Stranger: I main twitch hit plat this season and also play a bit of top. I would love to play with you though! <3

Stranger: Damnnnnn I started in s5 lol

Stranger: What do you play nowadays?

Stranger: What are your hobbies?

You: my high school was chock full of league peeps man, i just got pulled in around then

Stranger: Same but I have a story about that hH

You: i draw? and for games, I lean pretty heavily into strategy/jrpg

You: i... quit league cause i got to be a picturesque toxic league player >____>

Stranger: I have too much I wanna talk about and I gotta sleep hehe I wont be home till late so talk to you day after? If you have tele you can text me there too uwu

You: oh yeah!! :3 we can trade numbers later!

Stranger: Ooh I would love to see your drawings and being toxic is bad! XP

You: wouldn't want you to die on yr 2 hr drive at 5mi/hr

You: LOL

Stranger: HahH

Stranger: Do you have telegram?

You: i don't! is that like a texting app? o:

Stranger: Mhmm! With loooooots of cute stickers!

You: s...stickers

Stranger: Mostly furries use it but it has cute anime ones too

You: i tried to use line for a while because of the stickers (poptepipic what's gud) but no one else used it qq

Stranger: Yeah! Just download it and I'll teach you!

You: guess it's time to make a fursona!

You: LOL

Stranger: I used line when I lived in Japan haha

You: o: you lived in japan omg

Stranger: Yup guess so! XD everyone has one nowadays! :p

Stranger: Download it and let me know wha TV your @ is and I'll add you!

Stranger: What your* not tv looool

Stranger: I did yeah for a year

You: does it go by name?

You: ... "tams loves catgirls"

Stranger: My tele is @imyourkohai

Stranger: If you go to send a message you can put that in and message me

Stranger: Lol yes that is right hahah

You: haha okay, i should let you get to sleep!!

Stranger: Okay!!!

You: do you have a call time or anything? o:

Stranger: Nini

Stranger: Nah just a meeting all g :3

You: okay!! haha oyasumi~ we'll talk more tmr :3

Stranger: Ouasumiii

Stranger has disconnected.

#Omegle #Hamex

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skyfallofcybertron-blog · 5 years

Text

Transformers Skyfall: Chapter 2. Invisible Touch.

Cybertron, before the War, had a rigid caste system. Every form had a function, but one couldn't choose what they where sparked into. Minicons might as well have been even further below the lowest tier in the system. More often than not, we where objects. Tools and pets. Animals. Not even Cybertronian. There was a reason why Ravage and Soundwave’s other Deployers had so much to proof.

I was just like any other Deployer back then. I was cold constructed. Massed produced. There was no love forged for my birth. I relied on any affection from my carrier. Yet, in that short time span, I had already experienced what most Minicons would go through. I was bought, loved briefly, then was sold off for a few extra credits. After that, I sold second hand. Swindle did a good job scrubbing my processors clean of my former contacts.

Though, the longer I thought about it, I’m pretty positive that my former family didn’t want me around anymore. I wouldn’t have being in Swindle’s pawn shop if they wanted me.

My next carrier, Calloway, was a sad and old mech. Somebot with way too many credits and nothing to spend it on. I never learned where he got all of it. He was around for the Golden Age. A blacksmith, I believe. The old truck was massive, but was more skittish than a turbo jackrabbit. Never really held me. Let alone carried me. He’s huge servos always just hung out of reach. Like he was afraid of me.

I truly think that Calloway was trying to make me happy with everything he let me do. The old mech shook his little close knit social cycle. That’s for sure. No one at the time was letting Deployers do anything on their own. Let alone something solely for the Deployer’s own enjoyment.

Yet, Calloway let me do it. Calloway let me get an education. A real one. He bought me things. Expensive things. High grade, the latest inlays, decorations, outings, my own personal quarters within his spire of a home. In the end, I had a feeling it was just a longer, more extravagant leash.

I never could ask why he did any of it. Whenever I brought up the subject, he would just wave me off.

“Let an old fool make one more good thing before he flares out.”

Those fires never died out in his chassis they way he wanted them too. They came to end him personally because shortly after my graduation, war finally came to the streets of Cybertron. One by one, the cities around Iacon flickered out with the Decepticons advances. I was hidden in a cabinet while I watched Calloway’s spark was snuffed from existence.

The old mech was indeed a fool. He refused a order from Starscream himself.

Starscream wanted him to join the ‘Cons. To work and create more for the army. Weapons, I think. It was always weapons with Starscream.

I think Starscream really just wanted Calloway’s forge.

Starscream did get his forge. His Seekers tore Calloway’s home apart. Stole whatever they could get their collective talons on. The smug bastard just stood and preened as he let his goons work. It didn’t take long for them to realize that Calloway wasn’t living alone. To be fair, I also shouldn’t have blasted out of the cabinet. The internal screaming of my processors telling me to run was in greater control than the possibility of being murdered if I fled.

I was caught. No slag there. One lone minicon drone is not much of match a whole flock of Seekers. Starscream took personal amusement out of my thrashing and screaming. I must have looked so foolish to the Air Commander. As if my protests would actually harm any of his squad. I became just another tool for the ‘Cons to pillage. The only good thing that happened that day was that I was paired with Night Glide. I haven’t left his side ever since.

Night Glide now worked for the Badgeless. Police force isn’t quite the words describe it. They weren’t hired goons either. They could work outside the restriction of the law to keep the peace on the streets. That doesn’t sound good either. To be fair, most of the general public didn’t like how it sounded too. The Badgeless, more often than not, where just as corrupt as Metroplex’s actual police force. Nobody liked them. No one, other than me. Obviously. People liked to point that out to me a lot.

“I’m just saying,” I raised my voice a little higher over the noise of the bar. Maccadam’s was as busy as ever. Blurr was, well, a blur keeping up with orders. Though, he wasn’t struggling in anyway. The Ex-Autobot found his new talent in mixing drinks. The mech pretty much manned the bar alone. He must have saved Maccadam a fortune. “If the Badgeless and the police clean out their ranks, we won’t have the fights on the streets as much.”

“You have a screw loose, Sky.” Blurr joked.

Slug nodded in agreement, “Bots are all kinds of messed up now. You saw it first hand with that mech yesterday. War does that to people.”

I hummed softly.

That grounder from the checkpoint was still on my mind. He wasn’t a combatant. He wasn’t even from Cybertron. I read up his file later that night. He was trying to immigrate from Carcer. He wanted to rebuild. Just as much as I do. Though, if I pointed that out to Slug right now; his fair argument would still be pretty valid. The War did mess up a lot of mech and femmes. I couldn’t really argue with that.

So, I instead sat up a little straighter from my perch of stacked data pads to take a sip of my drink out of a curly straw. Being thankful I wasn’t the strangest sight in the room.

Maccadam’s attracted all sorts. Be it ‘Bot, ‘Con, flyer, groundpounder, dinosaur or bug. It was nice to not feel so out of place for once. Minicons both stuck out and blended in with the crowd. Small enough to go unnoticed. Yet, the smaller you where on Cybertron, bots would stop and stare.

I decided to let Blurr and Slug continue on with the conversation which somehow morphed into someone joining an axe throwing competition. I didn’t quite catch who was throwing axes and at what. Or how that, of all things, came out of police brutality. Yet, it was always a challenge to follow any conversation Blurr was having. He did everything fast.

I chatted with (fat) Tanker instead. He was a little rough around the edges, but we were both ‘Cons. We had a mutual understanding over that.

However, all the air was stucked out of the room like an air lock once the door opened and my carrier stood at the top of the stairs. Night Glide was still in his deep gray Badgeless uniform. The orange glass from the helmet was tucked neatly under his arm as he scanned the room.

Despite having every optic in the room locked onto him, Night Glide kept his helm and his wings held high. A Seeker’s way to show he was in control. However, for grounders, it came off as arrogant. Even something as simple as body language was a huge difference between us and them.

Blurr went to say something, but for once, I bet him to the punch.

“Hey, sweetspark. Is everything ok?” I asked as he descended down the stairs to join us at the bar.

“There was a bomb that was set off in the Blacklight Mall. I’m here to take you home and-”

“Not be dealing with a bomb threat?” Blurr cut in anyways.

Night Glide’s red optics locked onto the blue Autobot. Like an animal about to kill its prey. I scrabble from my mountain of old magazines to the bar top. Wedging myself in between the two mechs.

“Night Glide, he’s-”

“Blurr, was it?” Night Glide said, “Ah, yes, I remember Commander Starscream speaking about you. He said that you liked running your mouth as much as your tires.”

Blurr leaned over the counter. He hissed, “I might like spinning my wheels, Badgeless, but at least I do my job.”

“Whoa! Ok!” I flare my wings wide before transforming. I flew around my carrier’s helm a few times, sputtering quickly, “Yes, thank you, Glide. I appreciate you taking me home. Thank you.”

I made a point of making that thank you as loud as possible. I zipped over to Blurr and circled around him. Luckily for me, Minicons are built with their own wifi signal. I paid for my drinks.

“And thank you, Blurr,” I said, “for the service tonight. Drinks were excellent as always.”

I flew back to Night Glide’s side and added, “We all should be careful going home tonight. Right?”

I got a halfhearted response from my drinking buddies. It was better than nothing I supposed. It wasn’t like I could force them to like Night Glide. None of them knew him like I did and he didn’t care to give them the time of day. The War for Cybertron may have been over. The battle with my social life wasn’t.

My carrier’s chestplate slid open. I popped inside.

As Night Glide disappeared back up the stairs; I could hear Slug mutter how he couldn't see what I saw in him. I’m sure that Glide did too. I sent my carrier a soft ping to ease him. He pinged back. I shifted in my compartment as the Seeker transformed and raced into the skyline.

“Blurr didn’t mean it.”

“No. He did.”

“Are you off duty at least?”

“Yes, of course. I wouldn’t abandon my post. You know that.”

“Blurr would know that too if you came out with me more…” I said aloud.

I was going to keep that to myself, but being integrated to Night Glide at the moment; he would know. I felt the Seeker make a gentle bank. He hummed in thought.

“Maccadam’s is not for me, my love.”

“I know… I just want you to meet some of my friends. That’s all. I can talk about you until the Knights come home, but…”

“But I’m still Starscream’s ped licker.”

“No. That’s not what I meant.”

“You were thinking it.”

I sighed softly, “Yeah, maybe…”

There was a beat of radio silence between the two of us. I felt Night Glide transform once again; landing cleanly on our balcony. Once I heard his heeled peds click on the concrete, I let myself out. I stood on his outstretched forearm. It was the only way I could meet him optic to optic. Said optics where dim with a long days work. It didn’t seem fair to me. Night Glide worked so hard to keep the peace and no one cared.

I took his faceplates in my tiny servos to gently thumb his cheeks. The Seeker gave me weak, albeit happy smile. I couldn’t help, but to return the favor.

“I’ll try…” Night Glide finally spoke, “I’ll try again with your friends. If it would you happy, Skyfall.”

I felt my smile only grow brighter. I hadn’t been more proud of my carrier.

#transformers #transformers oc #transformers skyfall #writing #decepticons #seeker #minicon #skyfall #night glide #long post

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abloomntime · 3 years

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A Bloom In Time Ch3 Plan On The Way

A quiet floating ghost made their way across the floor and over to the door as the tall and dark spector slowly opened the door and peeked out...The dark ship was still dark except for the kiddo's nightlight indicating the children was still asleep and eased himself out with a sigh. He didn't think he could handle another storybreak again- He sighed and reached up to comb a clawed hand threw his messy floof, floating casually now towards the Time Piece room, he was rather impatient just waiting for them to fall sleep and getting his kids' nightly routine out of the way. He swore he was about to go loose some nonexitance teeth from the sweet pancakes and doughnuts she always brought home. Or grow fat from all the sausegues and bacon and all the other fatty foods cooking cat brought. She+ was a good cook he wouldn't deny it, but he wanted couldn't eat anything and he didn't like all the fatty foods the kids always seemed to eat. He wanted some none fatty foods for them for once and MAYBE have just a small teeny tiny little piece of quiet before he left for his rounds- He froze when he heard a little buzzing and sweeping noise and looked down. The kid's weird robot pet, Rumbi he thought, was sleep sweeping again. Nevermind how a robot could sleep and sweep in said sleep, but he knew if he woke those girls up it'll be a bigger pain to put them back to sleep again. He spent the good majority of the day thinking over what Hattie said. Those things worked like wishing stars, certainly gave him the extra boost and that Mustached menace when they needed it, and right now. After so much hate, so much pain....SO MANY LIES!! He would get what he so rightfully deserved.

REVENGE!!

Revenge for every single little thing she had ever done to him! All those crazy things she banned him from. BACON of all things. WHO BANS BACON OVER JEALOUSY!? Cutting and dying his hair while he was asleep! Getting jealous over his old tutor, who by the way- WAS A OLD WOMAN ALREADY MARRIED!!! Seriously, he was so, SO blinded by his 'love' for her that he never saw anything coming. He should've listened to those red flags shoved at him while he still had the chance. Because of that stupid choice everyone in their giant kingdoms suffered. Him. The children of the village. .....Poppy. A feral growl forced it's way past his fangs. IF ONLY HE HAD LISTENED!! Maybe he would've gotten that love and happy marriage he always wanted. With his sassy, fiery Flower Princess and maybe even a child....Just like he always wanted. ...He shook his head. Snap outta it you ninny!! That was more than a thousand years ago. She was gone, even if she escaped Vanessa's wrath. There was NOTHING he could do about it now.

"Ow. mY cUrcIT bOaRD!!," that small little distorted voice caught his attention.

Snatcher looked down and rose a brow so to speak. His long tail had run into Rumbi and 'woken up' the robot that was just looking up to him now curiously as Snatcher stared back down at him. They stared at each other for a moment, before the ghost reached down and flipped the poor cleaning bot on it's back to avoid any loud sweeping sounds. The poor bot let out beeps and boops, not loud enough to wake anyone up at least. He smirked at the robot for a moment before the shadow spector continued on his past away from the kiddo's bedroom and over to the driver's room of the ship, where the giant pile of pillows was. It was easy for him to spot the giant locked volt which held the kid's stash of time pieces. The shadow smiled wide seeing the volt. Something like steel won't stop him from going right through it. It was easy for him to vanish through the giant heavy metal door, while the monitor screen on the left flashed a perfect one thousand time pieces present and accounted for, not for long though. The twinkles of the huge collection of blue time pieces made the spector grin even wider as his plan was about to get set in motion. ONE.All he needed was one little twinkling hourglass and he'd be all set.

"It'll be quick and easy," he told himself as those purple claws eargerly grasped around the closest one to him, picking it up gently as if it was a newborn baby. His smile reflecting in it's twinkling surface. Magic blue sparkling sand held within it. "Go to the witch's home. Wish her to get lost forEVER. And put it back before the kid wakes up. Easy." He wasn't sure if he was encouraging himself or just reassuring his plan, or both. But it seemed to be working as he chuckled glancing at his reflection again. "Oh this is going to be fun."

Getting out of there was easy too, of course he couldn't go through walls holding something. Then the thing he's holding wouldn't be with him, but he could warp into his domain with things. How else did the kid suspect him to sign his contracts without risking her running away into the woods? In warp of energy and magic the ghost cackled out loudly in the giant room and long purple shadows danced across the room covering the glittering hourglasses and as soon as it came it faded away leaving the room of hourglasses as peaceful as it was before. Outside the room, the ship was still quiet except for the Roomba. Outside by the door, the screen showing the count of all the hourglasses, glitched and the even count of '1,000' changed to the number '999' hourglasses in the room. Compared to the teleporting ghost who was surrounded by a purple void, shadows stretching along the room as he cackled and still glanced at the small hourglass in his claws. A moment later that purple curtain faded away and the familiar gloomy forest reappeared around him. It was dark, nighttime, and twisted trees were around everywhere as the ghost floated there for a moment just staring at the hourglass, already feeling the power energy spiking off it and chuckled again.

"Oh. This is going to be a night to remember.~"

"May I ask what is going to be so memorable, my cackling counterpart?"

The Snatcher froze. That voice!...That disgusting DAPPER voice!! he inwardly cringed as any happy feelings left him as he groaned and turned around to peer behind him with a scowl. Chains rattled as they floated around the other, glitching spector who blinked at him with a smile and those weird red patterned eyes blinked at him as his body glitched every few seconds. But as Snatcher hissed in utter displeasure at him, the other ghost only smiled politely waiting for a reply from the shadow ghost. Before he leaned over a little and blinked at the shiny hourglass in his claws.

"Oh, my." He pointed a blue claw at it. "Wouldn't that happen to be dear Hattie's little collectable?"

He hissed before wretching back around. "None of your business, Moonboy! Go haunt that toilet and turn into sludge!" He began floating away but to his utter annoyance his copy began following him.

The Moonjumper's sparkly blue and white hair glimmered in the moonlight as he leaned over slightly as he floated above the Snatcher. "Oh, come now. It was just an innocent question. As the girls' father, I don't think it's good morals to steal from her."

"I'm NOT stealing!," he growled without looking up at him, "I'm just borrowing it. It'll be back by tomorrow morning, just like nothing will ever happen."

A pause- "Stealing, not stealing. Whatever it is you call it. But I also known you for almost more than a thousand years, Shadow theif, and I know you never do anything without reason." He chuckled making Snatcher frown further. "Now what might the all powerful Snatcher, be needing that for?"

"Are you going to just bug me everytime you come across me?"

"To be fair, you teleported right next to me, so I was minding my ow business before you even arrived. And no. I'm too curious for my own good.~"

The shadow ghost growled like a feral animal but Moonjumper didn't flinch, to used to this by now. And a ghost couldn't harm another ghost after all. "If you HAVE to know, Cresent face.....It's all a part of my plan. Something I wished to do for so, so long."

That peaked Moonjumper's interest as he hummed and the chains clanked more. "Now what plan would that be?"

"To destroy Vanessa once and for all."

Moonjumper completely stopped at the words spilt from the shadow ghost's mouth. Blinking in mid air as Snatcher still didn't stop as Moonjumper stared at him- Before shaking his shock off and calling after him. "N-Now just wait a moment!" He quickly flew glitching after him and floated right next to him now as Snatcher still ignored him. "HOW may I ask are you planning on doing that?! A ghost can't hurt another at the same strength as them. And Vanessa's..."He shuddered(glitched. "Dark magic rivals both your and my abilities. How do you suppose you're going to pull all this off with a teeny tiny object of sand and glass?"

..That scowl disappeared as he chuckled darkly and smirked. Still not looking at him, he held up the hourglass. "These things grant you what you want, at least according to the kid. And what better way to get rid of someone you don't want then by wishing away Vanessa's afterlife.~ If these things can grant a blonde brat inter-dimentional time powers to get lost, then who's to say it couldn't do the same with me.~"

The Moonjumper was staring at him, already thinking about this whole thing. Vanessa could...get lost?...Forever? And no one would ever have to deal with her ever again?! A happy feeling washed over the other ghost's glitching self as the thought of Vanessa no longer existing came over himself. Sure, it wouldn't fix what happened in the past, but he DID like the thought of having a mansion to himself and chuckled darkly himself as he mirrored his counterparts happy smirk.

"Well, now.~ This would be ...most pleasing to me as well.~ I don't suppose you mind me tagging along to witness this glorious event, do you?"

Snatcher still smiled wide. "Just stay out of my way and we won't have any problems.~"

As the two spooks floated along, dwellers and Snatcher's minions watched confused as the powerful spirits floated past and gazed at the shiny thing in their King's hands. The forest slowly getting darker and colder as they went and slowly his plan would be fulfilled. In the meantime, back on the ship. A small little brown haired girl stirred awake.

#flowercrown #snatcher x florist #a hat in time snatcher #snatcher #The Florist #a hat in time florist #Florist

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phonghoinghi · 3 years

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jules-hoard-of-stuff · 6 years

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Block list psa

Here's a list of things that will get you unfollowed/blocked on my account

-blatant nsfw with characters I don't feel comfortable imagining that with (literally the entire MCU crew and any anime character who is not supposed to be old enough to do those things, Love Live, PriPara, Sailor Moon, Aikatsu, you get the idea.)

-porn bot spamming

-d/dlg content/M.A.P. (minor attracted person) content. No pedos here. As for the d/dlg, I know some of ya'll age regress for mental health and that's fine but I'd prefer to stay away from it

-racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, ableist, fatphobic or disgusting behavior of a similar nature

-screamers, horror content thst blatantly tries to scare the user without warning (I literally have severe anxiety, those things make me unable to sleep for days. Please don't.)

-kink content (aka, those weird.... gifs?? Of someone like... slapping a belt on their... leg... NO. Also the mood boards that use the word 'd-ddy' weird. No to those too.)

-Fat fetishization blogs. Absolutely not.

-Troll blogs, harassment blogs, and blogs that are notorious for just being straight up toxic

-Politics, namely articles, disasters, and politicians such as #45, aka he-who-we-do-not-speak-of. (Remember, if it has to do with human rights, it's not politics, that's human rights. I reblog a LOT OF human rights stuff, please don't get the two confused)

-and finally! Alt-right and nazi fuckers? No thank you. Goodbye

I think that's a good enough list but just letting you know that this is the stuff I block.

Edit: real quick, just, if I block you, don't take it personally. I have to monitor my social media a lot to make sure I don't have panic attacks or fall into depressive spirals so please, don't take it personally if I do happen to block you. I'm just taking care of myself.

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sanddancingwithanxiety · 7 years

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17/04/17

Supposed to go with the normal routine today but we decided it was err, not safe to go that route lmfao.

Anyway so basically, pon had three days off over the long weekend, still on his extra food because he lost so much weight while i was at hamilton island and growing his winter coat. and then he was wormed on thursday afternoon bc he was due (justin does the every 3 months rotating between bot / normal dewormer, equimax or something? can’t remember. anyway).

anwyay so basically took off his rug today and i’m like .... he phat

well not fat, but just where he should be, FINALLY.

anyway so start lunging today and he was suuuuuuper forward, but doing ye olde sewing machines steps. which whatever, i was like he’s a little fresh, he’ll warm up out of it.

nope.

just total awful behaviour, kicking out, bucking, ridiculously shaking his head and bolting and then trying to stop, back up, turn around, yikes, just awful. generally not relaxed at all and i just couldn’t get him to no matter what i did.

so today was supposed to be my first time on the lunge but with reins :( but that didn’t happen, justin just got on and said he’d work him til he felt better, whether that left time for a lesson or not, whatever, just as long as he was feeling good.

and he was just ick under saddle, i could see him trying to snatch the reins, run off, justin said he was totally ignoring all the aids from his body so then he’d have to back it up with an actual hard aid and arthur would be like !!!! how dare !!!. just still sewing machine steps, ulgh. reared under saddle a couple of times, a few bucks and kicks out, just really not like how he has been. justin just basically said he felt tense and hot hot hot but not good hot, not hypersensitive hot, just not swinging.

it’s just really frustrating bc i’d kind of hoped that side of him was just gone?? like i would just have mister happy pony. not totally argument free ofc but at least free from just awful days where he had a shitty work ethic. and i’m hoping he will just work out of it with a few days, i don’t really have much cash left to throw at more physio and vet bills, he’s drained me already. but yeah, also worried that he’ll now remember that working that way is a bit easier and from now on he’ll be shit?

anyway so justin is riding him tomorrow while i’m off doing my intern day, and then have a lesson wednesday... he said he’ll lunge him before he rides tomorrow just in case there’s any rubbish, and he might consider dropping his food back to where it was bc with the weight he’s gained he’s clearly full of beans... but yeah. hopefully i have Mr. Good Work Ethic back soon? He was still good and happy on the ground (I mean, tolerating things like rugs and girth when given snax), so for the love of god i’m hoping he hasn’t done something else...

anyway. hopefully just fresh af??? sigh.

#arthur diaries

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prussianvenom · 7 years

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Appearance Issues

Saitama knows and believes she isn't beautiful and has accepted that

Genos doesn't and Is determined to show her otherwise

Saitama knew she didn't fit the standard of ‘beauty’.

Hell when she had hair she was barely a decently average looking woman.

It never bothered her, she could care less whether or not she was pretty or beautiful. She was a hero, looks were hardly apart of what she was going for. She wanted to save people, not give them something to look at. So it goes without saying whenever anybody taunted her appearance it always just kind of rolled off her. A couple of the other female heroes asked if it actually bother her, if it impacted her love life, if she had one. It didn't. As for her love life, sure not a lot of people really wanted to date her, for various other reasons besides her looks, besides, she wasn't actively looking for a relationship anyways.

That being said, she ended up with one. The love life she had just sort of happened. It made sense how it happened though, prolonged time together within the confinement of a tiny apartment, not to mention how close they had gotten out and about, was bound to bring people together emotionally in some way. Although, she supposed, it could also be because the guy was barely a legal teen. Sure, Genos’ body was cybernetic and what not, but he still had a teenage boy's brain, one that still pumped out hormones that led way to desires. So of course the woman he idolized would become something more than an idol in his eyes.

Genos, If anyone had a problem with people's opinion of her, was Genos. Genos had problem anybody insulted her, or even questioned her about the way way she looked. He was incredibly defensive of her in many ways, so it didn't feel out of place whenever hed get up in somebody's face after they might've caller her ‘ugly’ or ‘manly’, she didn't know, she didn't really pay attention. She learned a long time ago she wouldn't be able to stop Genos from getting mad every time someone bad mouthed her so she let him have at it. He wanted to be the caring boyfriend, there was no harm in letting him be it. Even if what he was defending was nonexistent. It's not like the comments hurt Saitama's feelings. Everything rolled off her. SHe had told Genos that, and that he was fighting a losing battle, but Genos just looked at her like a wide eyed confused puppy. As if he couldn't understand at all what she had told them.

“HA! So this is the best they could do? Send some bot and bald headed butch bitch to fight me?!” The crustacean like creature shrieked.

Saitama merely raised an eyebrow then looked down as if to assess herself.

“Huh, I mean I’m not girly, I guess I could be considered by-”

Saitama wasn't able to finish her sentence as the creature exploded in horrid morbid firestorm of blood and sinew. Saitama turned her head calmly to the man standing next to her, who was fuming and steaming both figuratively and literally.

“You're not butch…” She heard him mumble before he straightened up.

Saitama allowed a small smile to seep into her features. He looked like a disgruntled child, and in instances like this, ated like one. She chose not to comment on the matter/

“Well, that was taken care of easily. Lunch?” Saitama asked offhandedly and began walking.

Genos didn't move.

Unusual, he didn't usually stay upset for very long.

Something didn't feel quite right.

“Genos? Buddy?” Saitama gently put a hand on the metallic shoulder.

“Why don't you care?” Genos asked quietly.

“Huh?”

“Why don't you care when they say things like that? Doesn't it bother you?”

“Hm? Like I said before. No. Not really.”

“Why though?”

“Genos, I told you, those things never bothered me. I know I'm not beautiful or anything. I've made my peace with that. It's not important to me ok? I just don't care.”

“You are beautiful though,” Genos turned to meet her eyes. “You're absolutely beautiful.”

Saitama was a little shocked. She had never heard him say it, not to her face at least, just assumed that's how he felt based on how he stood up for her.

“Genos there's no reason to s-”

“You are so beautiful. I don't understand why you can't see that.” Genos gaze softened and ran a hand to caress Saitama's cheek.

Saitama's face felt heated and she turned her eyes away. These sort of romantic gestures and touches were still new to her, still a bit uncomfortable. She coughed out an awkward laugh and turned out of the embrace.

“Enough of that, let's go get lunch and get cleaned up. I rather not have a moment while covered in crab-man blood.”

Genos followed quietly behind.

Saitama was worried

Genos hadn't said a word since they got back. Was he really upset because of what Saitama said? It was unusual and kind of nerve wracking. She kept throwing glances at the sitting teen as she dressed out of the bright yellow suit. She glanceds at the long mirror sitting in the bedroom. She stood in front of it and studied herself. She was exceptionally fit, curves covered with rigid muscle, arms and legs that could level buildings, all fat, besides her breasts and some of her ass, gone ad replaced with thick cords of muscle. It might be attractive if she was a guy but as a woman it did look off to her.

Didn't make her less proud of it though.

She worked hard at achieving this body. It didn't matter, didn't matter at all, what the outcome looked like, as long as she could save those who needed help.

She shrugged and went to shower, then put on her pjs and walked out to see the cyborg staring sharply at her.

“Something, uh, something wrong Genos?”

“Has sensei had sex before?” Saitama's eyes opened wide and stared incredulously at her student/boyfriend.

“I-I’m sorry?”

“Have you ever had sex sensei?” Saitama's face lit up red.

“What kind of question is that?”

“I was just wondering Saitama.” Saitama groaned and rubbed the palms of her hands into her eyes.

“Kid I told you to stop with the sensei thing.”

“I will when you stop the kid things.” Genos smirked, Saitama returned it and scoffed. “If I made you uncomf-”

“No, no it's ok Genos, we’re dating. It's normal to ask right.” Saitama paused. “No, not really, wasnt really a focus of mine. I didn't go out for looking for anyone or anything so it was just,y'know,” Saitama shrugged. “It just didn't happen.”

“I'm your first boyfriend.”

“Hopefully the only.” Saitama laughed and leaned on the door frame.

“Did...Did you want to date me?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“If I had never asked to date you, would we still just be master and student?”

Saitama was at a lost. She never thought about it like that. Though things hadn't really changed since they started dating, hadn't even really been on a date.

“I don't know.” Saitama answered honestly and Genos looked down.

“Do you want to be dating me?”

Saitama stared at the boy sitting in front of her. His voice sounded so soft and broken. A hurtful reminder that this was still a young man, a broken human being sitting before her.

“Yes, of course I do Genos. I'm not the kind of person who would go out of their way to date someone out of pity,” Saitama answered. “Not a lot has changed though has it?”

Genos raised his head.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean, we’ve kissed a few times, but we’ve never gone on an actual date, and like you said,” Saitama paused, shifting awkwardly on her feat. “No sex.”

In a blur of rapid movement the cyborg was pressed and looming over her, one arm pressed beside her head.

“Perhaps that should change.” Genos leaned in close, carefully, restrained and anxious in his actions.

Saitama shivered and tried to search the eyes of the other, to figure out where this might be heading.

“Can...Can I kiss you Saitama?” He looked nervous, fragile, as if Saitama's possible rejection would destroy him, even though she had given him previous consent for things like kissing.

“Of course, you're my boyfriend right?” Saitama tried to sound light hearted again, the word ‘boyfriend’ rumbling and foreign on her lips.

She tried to ignore the way he said her name without the honorifics. The yellow optics of his eyes glowed with fierce intensity. He leaned in, again, restrained in his actions and pressed a soft feeling kiss against Saitama's.

“You know, you're the first person I've ever ever kissed?” Genos said quietly.

“That's hard to believe with such a good looking guy like you.” Saitama smiled a little.

“Not much of a ‘guy’ anymore. Not everyone is a big fan of a mechanic man as a lover.” Genos smiled sadly.

Saitama stared in disbelief. Feelings foreign to her began to fill her. She wanted to kiss him, she wanted to piece him back together, she wanted him to feel alive. He was alive. She wanted him to know that he was alive, that he was…

Beautiful

“Genos..” The name was whispered quietly as strong arms ran up across sleek silver arms and around black corded neck.

She pulled the blonde back to her lips. He jolted a bit in surprise at the passion that began blooming in the woman. She ran her hands through synthetic hair, pulling softly, as they roved and wandered. She bit the other's lip, trying to coax them open, when they did she slipperd her slick tonge in to deepen the kiss.

He tasted like a weird combination of oil and metal. Pleasant, weirdly, but pleasant.

She tasted like vanilla extract and leeks.

Genos moaned softly and wound his arms around her back and pulled her flush against his chest. The faux tongue was inexperienced but full of excitement and fervor. It traced over her teeth and across the roof of her mouth, pushing to get further, to claim more. The blunt peaks of silver fingers dug into her spine and low on her back. The metal was cool and welcomed against her increasingly warming body.

Saitama finally pulled back and let her head fall back against the wall with a thud. She was breathless and hot. Her skin feeling more and more flushed the closer the other pressed.

“Saitama.” He spoke her name against her lips, wet and full of pure reverence. As if she had gifted him with something glorious.

“Genos.” She returned.

“Saitama,” Genos buried his nose into her neck. “Saitama,” He mumbled hotly against her neck. “Saitama, can I show you how beautiful you are to me?”

Saitama pulled him back to look questioningly into his eyes. Could he be asking what she thought he was asking. No, that couldn't be it. Was he even-

“Saitama.”

“Genos?”

“I want…”He looked into her eyes pleadingly, trying to convey his desires without words.

“What Genos?” Saitama’s heart was pounding in her ears violently.

“I want to touch you Saitama.” Saitama laught breathlessly, somewhat relieved that he was going to bluntly state, well that he want to, yknow.

“I-is that all?” Genos eyes darted to the side, embarrassment flushing his features.

“No.” He admitted softly “I want all of you.” His eyes darted back to hers.

Saitama was light headed, turned upside down by how quickly things had escalated. Though, in hindsight, it was a long time coming. Her heartbeat was all but deafening at this point, and her throat was dried.

It was unusual for her to feel so helpless, seeing as she was the strongest being alive. That made it all the more thrilling somehow. To finally feel at the mercy at the hands of another.

“Show me then. Convince me that I'm beautiful.”

Genos surged back to her lips with a newfound confidence and vigor. She gasped and moaned into his mouth, his cold steel hands traveling all around her body. She clawed and fingered in between the plates on his arm. The cold metal fingers pressed into the unclothed section of her hip, the tips pushing gently underneath her tank top. Saitama hummed and ran her hand from where it was on his shoulder down his arm from his shoulder down his arm to his hand, encouraging it further underneath the cloth. Genos pressed closer, steam spewing out in rapid bursts behind him. She was surprised at the effect she was having on him. He was almost vibrating with ardor, pressing closer even though he was almost already flushed against her body. His hands pressed further up, one tracing the columns of her spine and the other running across the curved sides of the woman. The hands stopped abruptly at her ris then changed trajectory to palm in between her shoulder blades. She smiled against the other's lips. He was bashful Then again from what it sounded like, he had never been with a woman. He was nervous. This titanium ‘demon’ was blushing and skirting around touching her chest. Genos pulled away and buried his face into her neck and started to press trepid kissed against her throat and across her collar.

“Genos,” Saitama panted, “Genos,” She said again a bit more amused.” Genos, I said you can touch me,” She leaned up to whisper into the borgs ear, “So touch me.”

She grasped one of the blonde's hands again and led it, across her hip, up her stomach and to the swell of her breast. She heard the other's breath hitch and the hand curl slightly into her flesh. Saitama's breath hitched too when she felt a cold thumb swiper across her nipple.

Her guidance apparently gave him enough confidence to act on his own. As soon as the noise left her lips the other hand was on her other breast and his kisses turned to hard biting and sucking. A brief moment of clarity dawned on Saitama. She had never really been a sexual person before, not ever really feeling that desire. Didn't really find anyone that she connected to enough to feel that. Currently though. Currently , she realized, she was finally with someone that found and stoked that fire.

Did Genos feel that too?

Could he?

COuld he even have sex?

Perhaps this should be discussed more thoroughly?

As if sensing her disconnect, Genos roughly pinched her nipples. Saitama lurched and gasped loudly, surprising them both. They stared at eachother, red, flushed, and close to panting.

“Did….Did you like that?” Genos asked, still a bit stunned.

“I…”Saitama wracked her brain.” I'm not exactly sure.”

She stared at the cyborg, taking in the little details she often missed, how he bit at his silicon lip, his yellow eyes darting around harsh dark sclera under her scrutiny, how, even though his skin was fake, it lit up.

Saitama loved him.

She loved him

She love him so much.

She realized this very abruptly, the realization crashing down on her in a jarring, hot, electric way. The surprise of it lasted shortly though, caught off in the current pace of how things were going.

“Genos.” Saitama blurted, stopped when she didn't have anywhere to go. She sure as hell wasn't stupid enough to blurt out the confession, not now at least.

Genos met her eyes again and seem to understand on some level. His hands came up and traced over the shar juts and angles of her jaw and cheek, another cradling her chin, his thumb tracing over her bottom lip, pulling it open slightly. Before it could be processed through her mind, words she wasn't sure she intended to say spilled forth.

“I want to fuck me.”

The hands stopped abruptly

She looked at his face and became aware of what she just said.

They were bothe certainly discovering a lot about her today.

Genos pulled away and Saitama regretted her stupid mouth immediately.

WHy would she even say anything. That's where things were heading anyway, right?

She had never felt so torn up by anyones actions, including hers, especially her owns which were so sure and straightforward most of the time. The emotions that bubbled in her chest and the weight pulled away made her feels so weak and fragile. In the back of her mind she was glad she was feeling anything at all.

“Genos I-”

“Say it again.”

Saitama jerked her head up, as it had crestfallen with her emotions. He did not pull away in disgust. As Saitama thought. He pulled away….to contain himself?

The acidic colored iris looked like red was bleeding into them. The room was rising in temperature from the steady bouts of steam being pistoned into the room. He looked like a starved man in front of a plate of meat and Saitama was thankful she was against the wall, certain that, if not, her knees would have buckled and failed her. “Saitama. Please. Please say it again.”

IT came out rough, almost like a demand, a demand that reigned a shameful burst of heat to travel down through Saitama's abdomen.

“I want you to fuck me Genos. I want you to fuck me against this wall.”

The litany of filth poure out again, unchecked by her mind and better senses. Both of them were dissolving into base needs at this point.

Saitama reached out to yank at Geno's’ shirt only to be thrown harshly back against the wall then pushed up it till she had no choice to wrap her legs around the cyborgs waist. Their bodies and lips slam together with no finesse. Hands scrambling for purchase in each other's clothes and teeth clanging painfully together. Years of absent sexual attention and tension fueled them to go faster, to get more, to pour out all the heat and desire they possibly could unto the other.

Genos began to rut against her, answering her earlier question of whether or not this could actually happen.

God bless.

God bless and damn that doctor.

Saitama thought blissfully as she felt the cyborg tented erection grind against her pussy.

She pulled back for much needed air and let her head fall back against the wall. Without undetwer underneath her shorts she was able to feel the erected cloth slide in between the steadily damping cloth.

“Saitama.” Genos breathed against her neck, lips never leaving the flushed skin.

Whenever he wasn't talking or or panting, he was painting the tan neck in numerous colors

“Please keep talking Saitama, please sensei.”

Saitama was infinitely more relieved that she wasn't standing because her knees would definitely failed her at that point.

This was new and different for both of them, but this side of Genos... was, well surprising. She didn't know what she was expecting, but a beggin, dirty talking cyborg teenager was not on the list.

“20 words or less.” Saitama jokingly warmed.

“No, please,” He grabbed her wrists and pulled back to look her in the eyes, yellow irises all but a thin golden ring now. “I want to hear you, I want to hear you talk to me like that. Please sensei.” Genoss whined. “I want to hear your voice.”

Saitama would never be able to hear the word ‘sensei’ normally again. The way he just said it then, so low and gravelly. So….Sexual.

“You don't seem like the begging type Genos.” Saitama muttered, her thought to mouth filter all but gone at this point.

Genos face broke the semi serious facade and his eyes widened and the lights under his cheek lit up. Saitama couldn't help but break out into a fit of giggles, her legs losing their grip slightly as she laughed. Had she embarrassed him by saying that? Was it embarrassing? Genos pouted, like a petulant child, Saitama thought cheekily.

“Oh, don't be like that Genny.” Saitama pinched the blonde's cheek.

For a moment Saitama felt weightless, her view distorting as she realized that she was now on the...floor? Saitama leaned up slightly to find Genos kneeling between her thighs.

“Genos?” Saitama smiled apprehensively down at the cyborg, who simply answered with a wicked smirk.

“You teased me, it should be fair that I tease you. I'll get you to say dirty things to me.” Genos commented unassumingly.

His head lowered to her stomach, his lips at the waistband of her shorts. Saitama was once again struck wordless by her protege. Said protege was now pulling her shorts down by his damned teeth. He pulled them down slowly, never letting his eyes wander from Saitama's.

“Sensei, have I ever told you that Dr.Kuseno gave me taste buds so I can fully enjoy food?”

Saitama eyebrows rose in absolute confusion. What did that have to do with anything? Could he be insinuating that…? No, surely he wasn't being that lewd. When she locked eyes with the other she had felt that she had been seriously misjudging the younger man from the start. He definitely was being that lewd.

“I wonder what you taste like.”

Saitama gasped when a cold metallic tongue licked against her slit. Her hand shot down and curled itself in the cyborgs hair. Genos hummed contently and swiped his tongue across her clit a couple more times before he pushed it inside Saitama's pussy. Saitama whined and bucked her hips. The tung was cold despite being inside her, despite being in a mouth, slick with whatever artificial saliva Genos had in his mouth, and curling with an agility that could only be obtained being in a inhuman form. It reached deeper than she assumed any other tongue could and it pushed and curled in ways made her want to lose control.

Was this boy really a virgin?!

She couldn't though, couldn't lose control. She couldn't and that was frustrating. She wanted to be dominated, to feel helpless, to not have to hold back, and to be held down. She couldn't though, she couldn't because if she did there was a chance she could break or hurt Genos.

She sure as hell didnt want their first secual experiance ot play out like that.

When the tongue pulled out and Genos sucked her clit into his mouth she forgot all about that and bucked her hips up. Her pelvis hit Genos chin audibly and she reeled back at the sound and looked down to see if she caused any damage. Genos chin and mouth were covered in a sheen of wetness, wetness surrounding a crooked, smug, smirk.

“Did I do good sensei?” Genos asked crudely/

Saitama glanced down at the cocky teenager and tugged his hair.

“Its there something you want Saitama-sensei?”

“You're really not gonna let up are you?”

“How can I not at this point?” Genos crawled over Saitama, his breath grazing over hers as he spoke,”I just want to have you falling apart, begging me to make you come. So, maybe I am the begging type, but sensei,” Genos ground his clothed cock against Saitama. “You've made me like this.” Genos kissed Saitama deeply, his tongue pushing past Saitama lips to race her mouth harshly. She could taste just herself now. “Please talk dirty to me sensei, talk to me like that while I fuck you.”

Saitama let her head clunk against the wooden floor and sight and laughed breathlessly.

“Are you sure you're not lying about being a virgin?” Genos laughed and pecked Saitama's neck.

“No, just a really pent up teenager.” Saitama laughed again and pulled Genos into a sweet kiss.”With a really hot older girlfriend”

“Well let's solve this whole pent up situation then,” Saitama sat up and pulled her tank top off, then sld her legs open and over Genos’ thighs. “Since we’re down here now, fuck me int the floor Genos, fill my pussy up.”

She was sure that Genos was actually vibrating now, like he was ready to burst into flames. His cold fingers danced over the skin of Saitama's stomach to her now exposed breast. With one in one hand he lowered his head to suck and kiss the other. Saitam sighed warmly as she laid her head against the floor once more.

“You stopped talking sensei.”

“I wasn't aware I had a to keep a steady stream going.”

“True,” Genos smiled wickedly “But wouldn't that be funner?~”

“I'm not good at this Gen.”

“You're doing amazing sensei, you're amazing.”

Saitama smiled crookedly and pulled the cybor up for a kiss.

“Will you talk dirty for me too? I mean more than you already are now?” Genos smile grew wide and more wicked.

“Of course master~” Saitama groaned and licked Genos’ lips.

She grabbed the loops of Genos’ jeans in an attempt to pull them down some, or pull him closer, she wasn't sure. Beneath arousal she was actually extremely curious to see what Genos’ robotic genitalia would entail, what it would look like.

“Eager?”

“Yeah, but also, y'know, curious, to see what it looks like.”

Saitama said it flatly, extremely non-seductive or sexual at all. Just very….Well her, she was reminded, and frowned.

Genos took notice and went on with the request as if it hadnt been said at all.

It was

Interesting

She supposed it was the best way to describe it. It was actually pretty if Saitama was being honest. It was black, silver and sleek, and looked very much like the rest of Genos. Genos coughed awkwardly and Saitama realized she was scrutinizing her boyfriends cyborg junk intensely.

“Is it self lubricating?” Saitama asked jokingly. Genos laughed and crawled back over Saitama.

“Yes actually.” As if it wasn't obvious by the way his cock was drooling.

“Then what are you waiting for?” Saitama winked and wrapped her legs around the back of Genos’ thighs to pull him closer.

Genos groaned as the head of his cock was encompassed by the lips of Saitama's pussy.

“You're so wet Saitama~”

“Look who's talking. You're practically dripping Genos.”

Genos canted his hips inadvertently, roughly pushing a couple of inches in. Saitama gasped and mindlessly grappled unto Genos shoulder. She quickly came back to herself when she felt metal give way under her fingers. She threw her hand back as if Genos was on fire.

“S-sorry Saitama-sensei I-”

“No, Its ok Genos, just took me by surprise. Your shoulder ok?”

Genos looked at his shoulder, only seeming now to comprehend that the damage had been done.

“Oh, I hadn't noticed. Im okm I wasn't expecting to get out of this without some scrapes.” Genos beamed and leaned back over the taller woman. “Would...Would it be ok to go in a bit further.”

Saitama smiled and nodded

Each inch of metal and silicone that slid into her was both hot, cold and wet. It was weird and foreign. The cold sensation helped ease the uncomfortable feeling of being stretched around the cyborgs cock. Despite it being joked about, she was immensely grateful that his dick was self lubricating.

She stifled a laugh when she imagined how much more awkward this would be if Genos was fully intact. Shed destroy him, still might.

The blonde sighed when he finally bottomed out. He was deep, so deep inside her. Saitama groaned at the feeling. He wasn't particularly long, but long and wide enough to stretch Saitama pleasurably. It was enough to burn, to hurt, a feeling that had been all but lost and forgotten to Saitama in the last couple of years.

It…

It was so good…

It was so fucking good.

“Fuck Genos.” Saitama groaned.

The blonde above her was falling apart at the seams, torn between wanting to fuck his mentor senseless and waiting, to ease both of them through this new experience.

“You're so t-” Genos was cut off when Saitama whimpered and pushed her hips up to Genos.

“Y-You feel so good Genos, fuck.” Genos chewed his bottom lip and gripped Saitama's hips with a death grip.

“Genos?”

“Im fine, its, its just,” Genos huffed out a breathless laugh.”You're so fucking sexy. I'm trying not to lose my head.”

Saitama grinned lopsidedly and canted her hips in Genos grip. Genos groaned, buckled over, holding himself up on his elbows. This close she could see how hard the other was trying to hold unto control.

“Do you think You'll break me Genos?”

“No, but I-”

“Fuck me Genos, how many more times do I have to tell you.”

Saitama almost winced at her demeaning tone, almost, that is until she saw how Genos eyelashes fluttered and h e heaved out a heavy breath. That's all she was able to process before her thighs were pushed up besider her face and Genos began to pivot violently into her. The first thrusts were surprising and golting, ebbed into electrifying sparks of pleasure that ran up Saitama's spine and throughout her body. Genos was in absolute bliss. The woman he coveted so much was below him holding her legs up and open for him to fuck wildly into her, moaning out his name, her hands occasionally falling to the floor and scratching the veneer of the wooden floor, almost cracking beneath her restrained strength.

“Y-you're so beautiful.” Genos whispered, sickeningly sweet despite their actions.

Saitama groaned and threw her arms over Genos shoulders. Her fingers dug into metal casing, using it as a leverage to fuck herself back on Genos’ dick, determined to give as well as she receive. Saitama had lost herself, her mind focused solely on her pleasure, their pleasure, secondary things like restrained quickly being forgotten.

Genos senses were flooded with warning signals, structural integrity being chipped away with each movement from the woman on the floor. He was going to have a weird and awkward outing with the good doctor after this, if he let it continue. Which he of course did. He felt his spine bend inward and awkward as Saitama wrapped her legs around Genos. Her face was cherry red and she was covered in a sheen of sweat, she looked like she was about to start sobbing in pleasure, she was so far gone. Her mouth gaped open, moans and high pitched keens poured out, louder than warning signal lighting up the peripherals of his vision. This was the most exerted and untamed he had ever seen the elder. His shoulder blades were pulled up and almost detached as he leaned over her, pushing deep and as quick as he could, as well as he could caged in the, perhaps hottest, grapple. The wet muscles of her pussy began to spasm and her voice lilted to higher pitches.

“Are, are you close Saitama?”

“F-fuck yes! G-Genos I'm so close, p-please more, fuck me, fuck me harder! Fuck my pussy raw G-Gen.”

Genos sank his teeth into Saitama's neck and willed his body to pummel harder and faster until he felt wet velvety walls clamp and spasm sporadically around his cock. Saitama all but screamed as she reached orgasm, her hands ripping away steel plating and her calves and thighs crushing several mechanisms in Genos midsection. The artificial pain and pleasure rocketing through his system was enough to pull an orgasm violently through his body. Saitama looked glowing, ethereal, and ultimately sated as her limbs fell limply to her sides.

“That…” Saitama started.

“Was possibly the best thing I've ever experienced.”

Saitama chuckled breathlessly. The smile faded when she heard the muted blaring of Genos System errors. She grimaced and ran a hand through the nylon blonde hair.

“How bad is it?”

“Don't know, don't care. Ill run a diagnostic later, I , I just want to enjoy this moment a little longer.” Saitama smiled softly and carefully dragged him down into her embrace.

“I suppose we should come up with something to tell Kuseno huh?”

“It wouldn't hurt to ask for some reinforcements, or maybe even some...upgrades?~”

“Oh no, have I awakened some insatiable cyborg beast?”

“Oh, Saitama-sensei, I wouldn't say asleep. You just finally gave him some attention.”

“Cheeky.”

“Do…” Genos paused, looking down at Saitama again with that look of reverence. “Do you believe me now? When I say you're beautiful?”

Saitama ran her hands through Genos’ hair lazily and beamed at the man.

“Man, after all that I feel like a supermodel.”

The smile she received could have blinded a country.

“But, I've realized something else too.”

“What's that sensei?”

“You're beautiful too.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #saigeno #genosai #opm #one punch man #saitama #genos #f/m

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