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centuryberry · 1 year

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@peachshadows / @terrible-leviathan It’s been a while, but here is an update! Finally, the clash of two worlds over two very special monkey cubs! Who will win?

Clutching onto his daughter as they all fell through the hastily-made shadow portal, Macaque wondered how much time he had lost with her and MK while they were gone.

He and Wukong always knew that their daughter would most likely take after Macaque in power, but to see her slip in and out of shadows with ease made his heart ache. He had missed this, along with many other small moments. And he would never forgive whatever force that had taken his cubs here for that.

The portal delivered them all onto a mountaintop. Macaque breathed its air and recognized it almost instantly. He knew Wukong recognized it too.

Flower Fruit Mountain.

“Macaque?” Wukong sent him a nervous smile. “I know it was a last-minute thing, but couldn’t you have transported us closer to the portal? This isn’t our Flower Fruit Mountain.”

“Wukong, it wasn’t me who did this.” Macaque shifted A-Dan in his arms to hold her better. She clung onto the front of his clothes with a squeak. “It was MK.”

“MK?! He has shadow powers too? When did that happen? Hey kid, when were you going to tell me that you can - MK?”

Wukong’s excitement and pride was completely forgotten when he caught sight of MK, curled up on the ground. Shadows lashed out and writhed under him uncontrollably as he made small distressed noises. Pigsy and Tang were pushed back when they tried to approach him. When Wukong moved to do the same, Macaque stopped him.

“No.”

“No?!”

“MK needs his space right now. Shadow magic can be…finicky if you’re not experienced and extremely reactive to emotions, especially negative ones. His was triggered after that other version of you came in. At his state, MK might not recognize you and panic even more and we don’t want that. So trust me and leave him alone.” Macaque’s six ears flicked. “Besides, we have other things to worry about.”

Heaven had reacted faster than Macaque expected to MK and A-Dan’s escape. It’s as if their break-out was anticipated. Grimly, his six ears caught three familiar sets of voices he thought he’d never have the displeasure of hearing again.

“The Brotherhood in this world seems to still be intact,” Macaque dryly reported. “Azure, Peng, and Yellow-Tusk are among the many dispatched to “get MK and A-Dan back”. We’re going to have to open a portal back to our world from here if we don’t want ourselves and all of Heaven at our tails.”

Unfortunately, opening a completely new portal took time. Tang was still new with his abilities and the seal work was a complicated thing. But time wasn’t something that they had. Macaque could hear their enemies getting closer and closer.

“We’re going to have to fight them,” Macaque concluded grimly. “It’s unavoidable.”

“Then we’ll fight them,” Wukong snarled, eyes flashing red for a brief moment. While seeing glimpses of his mate’s legendary wrath was usually a sore point for Macaque, all he could feel in that moment was a similar rage.

These Imposters dared to feel entitled to their cubs. They dared to push their resilient successor to the point of despair for their selfishness. They dared to play as parents to his A-Dan.

Well. Macaque wasn’t going to let them. Not without a fight. And he won’t lose this one.

After tenderly tucking A-Dan away into his shadow and telling her to not come out no matter what, Macaque prepared with the others. While Wukong set up barriers and protective spells around the mountaintop, Macaque set down traps. They ranged from minor illusions that caused confusion to absolutely cruel ones that spat out curses. He knew that they wouldn’t do much to their counterparts or the Brotherhood, but any time that this could buy was precious.

Wukong borrowed the staff from MK, who was still fruitlessly struggling against his shadows. Macaque’s heart ached at his student’s obvious distress and frustration in his lack of control. He knew that MK wanted to help fight too.

“You already did enough, bud,” Wukong took the time to assure MK, cutting his student off before he could make any more protests at being benched. “Just focus on yourself.”

Wukong made sure to leave the piece of the furnace with MK’s strange Reflection in his student’s hands. MK needed the guidance of the being more than ever and it was better for him to not be alone.

“Don’t worry,” Macaque’s ears caught the Reflection saying to MK. “I know what’s happening and it’s okay. I’ll help you through this. Just breathe with me.”

By the time this world’s Heavenly Army came to Flower Fruit Mountain, everyone was ready.

The Emperor came first. He burst through the skies on his cloud with a rage that threatened to bring Macaque to his knees. But his Wukong wouldn’t let his counterpart close to the mountain. He met the other at the sky with a thunderous crash.

Macaque didn’t have time to marvel at the meeting of two destructive forces. He had his own doppelgänger to defend himself against.

Unlike the Emperor, the Empress came quietly. He struck from the shadows, but Macaque knew himself and expected him. He countered the first strike and began a dance that required more subtlety than the crashing strikes made above him.

“Thief.”

“Imposter.”

Macaque didn’t hate his counterpart with the same vitriol as his mate did his, but he certainly saw the other as a threat to his cub. A-Dan, who obediently remained under his armor and his scarf, could be taken away from him forever because of the desperate and greedy being in front of him.

“Give me back my cubs!” The Imposter all but wailed as he threw himself at Macaque and tried to claw his uninjured eye out. “They are mine! MINE!”

If Macaque was kinder, he would have pitied the Empress. But he wasn’t. His lips curled back in a disgusted sneer as he bared his teeth. “You are no mother of theirs. Instead of robbing cubs from other nests, have your own!”

But Macaque knew it wasn’t as simple as that. MK and A-Dan were irreplaceable. Who was to say that they would ever appear in this universe? Macaque knew himself well enough that he wouldn’t take that risk and hold onto what he already had as desperately as he could - even if it didn’t belong to him.

“I am their mother! They’re mine!” The Imposter insisted, confirming what Macaque already knew. And so, their fight continued.

But even as he grappled and clawed at himself, Macaque kept himself aware of his surroundings and subtly led the other further and further away from the summit of the mountain. He needed him away from MK and the portal.

But there were others who swarmed the mountaintop. Macaque could hear them.

Pigsy, Sandy, and even Tang - in between working on opening the portal back home - held most of the army back valiantly. And quite uniquely too. Macaque didn’t know where the pig demon procured the ping pong paddle, but it was certainly doing a good job knocking celestial warriors out of the sky.

Wukong and Macaque’s clones focused on keeping the Brotherhood at bay. They weren’t a permanent solution, but they did their job in keeping them away from MK.

For now, Macaque thought grimly. But with Tang’s attention split, we need more time.

Which they might not have.

Red Son and Mei had their hands full with the Demon Bull Heir and the Dragon Family’s Heiress. Their counterparts had the armor, weapons, and army to support them. Thankfully, his and Wukong’s seals seem to do their part in aiding them in their respective battles, giving them a more equal footing.

No, not equal, his Red Son and Mei were even better. Unlike their more privileged counterparts, his had struggled and fought in life-threatening and world-ending scenarios that this “perfect” world had never experienced. Macaque felt smug when he heard his Mei overpower the Dragon Heiress.

Red Son, on the other hand…

“I can’t believe you are shaming the Bull Family’s name by trying to marry that peasant! What in the world do you see in that idiot to act like such a fool?!” Macaque heard Red Son all but shriek at his counterpart in embarrassment. The other began to spark and fume at the many insults thrown at MK.

“How dare you call the most perfect being in the world a PEASANT?!” The other Red Son managed to get a strike in, throwing their Red Son back. “Obviously, Prince MK’s rightful place is here where he is properly valued and loved.”

If Macaque wasn’t so distracted by the Imposter in front of him, he would’ve ripped the little fire brat into pieces for that comment, a version of his sworn sister’s son or no.

Thankfully, Mei handled that for him.

“GET SAMADHI FIRE’D BOIIIIII!”

With that war-cry, she not only managed to knock the other Red Son out, but also drive back the Brotherhood. With an emboldened Red Son at her side to bolster her flames, the pair managed to create a barrier, driving all but the Emperor and Empress away from Flower Fruit Mountain all together.

But Macaque was thrown back too. He and the Imposter flew away from each other, far from each other’s reaches. He got back onto his feet, ready to throw himself into battle again but stopped at the sound of a whimper. The Imposter did the same.

“Owie.”

A-Dan, who had lost her grip and tumbled onto the ground, unsteadily got onto her feet with pitiful chirps and calls for a comforting hug. Her little hands and knees were scraped and her pretty dress was ruined. His poor daughter.

Macaque would have gone for her if it weren’t for the fact that she was just out of reach of his shadow. It was the same for the Imposter. She was right in the middle and neither of them moved, fearful that their actions would only make her stumble into the range of the other’s shadow.”

“Mama?” A-Dan wondered before catching sight of both Macaques. She tilted her head quizzically, looking between the two of them. “…Mama?”

“A-Dan, sweetheart, come here! Come to Mama!” The Imposter cajoled, just barely hiding the desperation in his voice as he and his shadow reached out to her.

Not that Macaque was any better. He reached out and called for A-Dan with the same amount of desperation, adding in chirps in between his pleading. “No, no, A-Dan, he’s not me! Don’t go to him! Come to me!”

“Ah? Ah?!” A-Dan’s lips trembled in a way that made Macaque’s heart seize. She looked from him to the Imposter before she burst into loud, wailing tears.

Oh, A-Dan, no.

The Imposter tried to calm and hush the sobbing baby monkey from afar, just as distressed as Macaque was at his daughter’s tears.

But Macaque knew his daughter. He knew exactly what to do. He began to hum softly, patiently weaving his melody through her sobs until they calmed enough for him to start singing.

“More than sunshine, more than soft clouds, more than moonlight, more than misty shrouds. I love my little dawn more than all the beautiful things in the world.”

He had composed this melody for her before she was even born, singing it to her before bed every night. While other children clung onto stuffed animals and blankies for comfort, his A-Dan turned to song. Already, her tears were abating into sniffles and hiccups.

“More than lullabies, more than hymns, more than loud laughter that comes from within. More than whispers, more than secrets, more than voices that ring the sweetest. I love my little dawn more than all the sounds in the world.

The Imposter was staring at him now. Staring at them. But Macaque focused only on A-Dan.

“More than peaches. More than plums -”

“M-More dan n-nyoo-dals,” A-Dan warbled a few notes of her favorite part of the song, making Macaque let out a watery laugh.

“More than noodles that fill your little tum,” he agreed. “I love my little dawn more than all the tastiest things in the world.”

There was more to the little song, but that was enough for A-Dan to throw herself into Macaque’s shadow. She rushed through it and into his arms with a cry. “Mama! Mama!”

Macaque’s relief nearly knocked him down again but he somehow managed to keep himself on his feet. He checked her over, hissing under his breath at the little scratches and bruises on her little body from the fall. He kissed them all. “It’s going to be okay. Mama’s here, baby. I’m here.”

The Imposter looked completely heartbroken at the sight. He reached out for A-Dan from where he stood almost beseechingly. “A-Dan…”

A-Dan, now knowing who her real Mana was, turned away from the Imposter and buried her face into Macaque’s neck for comfort.

That seemed to break him. The Imposter’s heartbreak turned into pure hatred as he glared at Macaque. The shadows behind him lurched in preparation for an attack.

“You say you have everything. A throne, a Brotherhood, your power. But with all that you have, you’re still desperately trying to take something that isn’t yours!” Macaque heard Wukong sneer at the Emperor from above. “Yeah, one of us has everything, but from where I’m standing, that person is me. Who really is the pathetic one here?”

Both the Emperor and the Empress cried out at the same time and released a blast of energy, which Wukong and Macaque managed to avoid.

All too late, they all realized where the attack was going. They watched with horror as both attacks struck the center of the summit.

“MK!”

#little dawn au #fic update #shadowpeach #lmk spicynoodles #little dawn

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thebibliomancer · 9 months

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Essential Avengers: Avengers West Coast #49: BAPTISM of FIRE

October, 1989

Aw, geez, the Avengers West Coast Avengers are so side-lined in their own book that the Great Lakes Avengers have taken over the roster box!

John Byrne must be really proud of coming up with the Great Lakes Avengers. They've only showed up in Avengers West Coast so far and been alluded to when Hawkeye showed up to the big Avengers meeting in Avengers East Coast. I wonder if they'll show up in the Avengers East Coast book or will just be a thing to happen in the West.

I do like the type of cover that's just 'wow, look at how many things happen in this book!' and it called me a true believer so I'm in a good mood right now.

Last times in Avengers West Coast: Vision got disassembled by every government in the world. Hank Pym put him back together but now his brain doesn't emotion. None of the Avengers seemed to care so Scarlet Witch took Vision to Absolom College when they offered to help. But it was really a trap, so ancient bacteria could oozefest Wanda and use her to learn how to take over mutants.

This is really dumb. And oddly will be an echoed plot point later when Morrison does the same thing and calls it Sublime.

Anyway.

Also, last time, Captain America and She-Hulk followed a Quinjet distress signal and tried to rescue Wanda. But ooze-possessed Wanda blew them the fuck up.

Glad they bothered to guest star.

Mr. Random, the Absolom College robot department head, congratulates Black Suit Wanda for beating "two of your most powerful former colleagues in less than thirty seconds!"

While that may be the case for She-Hulk, that's kinda overselling Captain America.

Ooze Wanda clarifies that She-Hulk and Cap hesitated to attack her because they probably thought they could talk her down "not realizing there can be no reasoning with That Which Endures."

A sentiment that Mr. Random can get behind.

Mr. Random: "We stand upon the treshold of the age of mutants like yourself, Wanda. For many years it seemed as though the fates -- in the form of a cruel, genetic quirk -- had chosen to bar us from that coming age. But now, with your assistance, the stage is set for our continued endurance. As mankind falls by the wayside, we shall ride the crest into the mutant millennium!"

Have I mentioned how weird it is when Marvel comics acts like its a natural, inevitable thing that mutants ARE homo superior and will supplant humanity? Cause that's the villain position but you see a lot of the heroic mutants echoing. Their main difference with the villains is willing to let humanity just wither and die on its own rather than being proactive about it.

It's also funny how on one hand everyone acts like The Mutant Millennium is inevitable but also most Dark Futures have something Bad happen to prevent that.

Anyway, these assholes sure talk a lot for people that are supposed to be a hivemind or whatever. I'm not entirely sure I understand how it works.

Meanwhile, the true heroes of the book, the Great Lakes Avengers.

They don't have a Quinjet or even a Quinjetta so they've had to take the next best option.

Buying a private airplane with Big Bertha's money and then have Hawkeye complain incessantly about how slow it is.

I was sympathetic with him when he was being underminded out of his team but I'm back to thinking Hawkeye is a jerk.

Big Bertha even points out that the Great Lakes Avengers don't have access to any of the super cool Avengers tech.

Hey, guy who has spent years with the Avengers, maybe pull some strings and get your new team hooked up with the good stuff?

Meanwhile, Mockingbird has the private plane pointed right in the direction of the Quinjet emergency signal but but but it was so faint they only got one reading. So they can't triangulate. So they're just flying in a direction but have no idea how far to fly in that direction. They don't even have a destination. Making Hawkeye complaining about how fast they're going even more of a jerkass move.

God I suddenly hate Hawkeye.

Mr Immortal snarks that they're on a wild goose chase because now that he's conscious again he can express opinions about Hawkeye taking over his team by putting quotation marks around the word "leader."

He's the Hawkeye of the team. The heroic starscream-lite who is always waiting in the wings to tell the leader he sucks and agitate to become leader instead.

Hawkeye: "Keep the sarcasm out of your voice, buster. You and this crew of oddballs you've assembled were nothing but bush league super heroes before me an' Mockingbird hooked up with you. Now, for the first time, here's a real chance to show the rest of the Avengers what you're made of... if we can ever find 'em!"

Okay. But. Before you took over, the Great Lakes Avengers fought crime. This really seems to be more about you, Hawkeye, wanting to show up the Avengers than about helping the Great Lakes Avengers be all they can be.

Meanwhile, the Avengers West Coast return to their compound following their own wild goose chase.

Wasp calls the trip fruitless but Hank goes NUH UH its good that we talked to Professor Horton so he could tell us what we already know about Vision not being his design and Vision's backstory flashback a lie.

Wonder Man is still a little confused on how everything has changed gears. It really did seem like all that stuff the Avengers learned about Vision's backstory was true. But Hank says it only seemed true to dumb idiots who are stupid.

Is Byrne mad that people don't like this new characterization direction for Vision? Why do we keep getting the same stuff re-stated.

It was annoying enough when Byrne upended Vision's character on authorial fiat but he keeps rubbing it in and being boring.

Even if I don't like this direction, surely there's a better way to handle it than words words words.

Say, for example, the Avengers (West Coast) found the robot Human Torch. Well, shit, what does that mean for Vision? His body was supposedly remodeled from the Human Torch. If there's a Torch still around, where the hell did Vision come from?

THEN you play the mystery out further.

Anyway. Another annoying subplot, ho.

While Hank goes ahead to go do some computer work

(and takes a little rollercoaster car to fast travel to the computer room)

Wasp stays to talk to Wonder Man.

Because he's still in the dumps about Wanda hating him because he refuses to let his brain patterns be used to rebuild Vision's brain.

Simon goes more into his feelings.

His creeper feelings.

He says that it was love at first sight when he came back from the dead and saw Wanda.

Wasp claims that because Wanda had been working on getting Vision to emotionally open up, that's why Wonder Man was so attracted to her. Because... Vision is just a copy of Wonder Man? So trying to appeal to Vision made her irresistible to Wonder Man?

I hate this ship.

I was begrudgingly tolerant of it when it happened in Busiek's run. But now I hate it. I want Wonder Man to blow up. Maybe from a space laser.

Ugh. Anyway. Wonder Man never mentioned his feelings for Wanda because she was already married to Vision.

Then Wasp claims that Wanda doesn't love Vision for his body but for the sensitive soul within and that inner man is actually Wonder Man because his brain is based off Wonder Man's QED Wonder Man should date Wanda.

Wasp: "So even though she didn't know it herself, it was you Wanda was really falling in love with..."

Wasp. You're my fave. But I am getting irritated with you.

Over in the computer room, Hank is also frustrated but for his own reasons. He wanted to do Vision research to try to iron out this riddlesome enigma about Vision's origins.

But the Every Government In the World taskforce Vigilance put a computer virus in the Avengers' computers to wipe out all information about Vision. So Hank has nothing but his own memories to go off of. So even though he said he had important work to do in the computer room, he's mostly just staring at a blank screen.

I know that feel.

Instead, Hank decides to try to figure out where Wanda went.

... Why wasn't that your first priority? She stole a super-sonic jet and vanished!

Hank starts by talking to the butler, Carlos, and asking if Wanda has acted strange lately.

Carlos confirms that Wanda has been distressed since what happened to Vision but her mood seemed to change after she got a letter recently.

But Interrupting Tigra interrupts the conversation by racing by naked. And also feral.

But not Feral. Just feral.

Hank has no idea what's going on but Carlos tells him that Tigra has been acting weird and chasing mice and stuff.

I am once again just flabbergasted by how little attention the West Coast Avengers are paying lately. Seriously. It took THIS for you to notice something was weird with Tigra?

Hank fears that she's going through another phase where her feline nature becomes dominant (even though that should have been permanently cured when something something cat people cat soul something). He chases after her into the woods.

Immediately loses track of her. And then gets pounced.

Idiot.

Tigra jumps Hank and starts trying to maul him.

Hank's costumes are usually pretty durable - his original Ant-Man costume was designed to protect him from ant bites, after all. But he's got a big weak point sticking out of the collar region.

So he resorts to using his shrinking powers on Tigra. Shrinking her to a tiny widdle kitty cat.

I HAVE WAITED FOR THIS MOMENT. Ever since Hank and Tigra casually alluded to it in Avengers Academy.

I hate every bit of context that led us here but I deeply love Hank just holding Chibi Tigra and going 'uh what now?'

Meanwhile, in a Absolom College holding cell, Captain America stops pretending to be unconscious.

He was apparently pretending the whole time, having used his shield to shield himself and She-Hulk from the falling masonry. He thought it smarter to let them get captured then to risk hurting Wanda when she's clearly not herself.

And She-Hulk followed his lead.

Except, she's clearly not on the same page as him. She hoists him up and yells he must be destroyed because he's not been properly assimilated!

Okay, I guess She-Hulk has been oozed too, off-panel. Or... something. She doesn't have the ooze look.

Captain America can't figure out why She-Hulk got taken over but he didn't. And he doesn't have time to really ponder on it while she's trying to make his skull into a bowl.

But luckily? he doesn't have to dodge long because Mr. Random comes in with a zap gun and zaps Captain America. They need him alive, you see?

Elsewhere in the facility, Vision gets bored.

He has no emotions but he's been left lying on a table alone for seven hours four minutes and twenty-three seconds exactly. Logic dictates that he get off his ass and go find out what's going on.

Vision: "This is inconsistent with the alleged purpose of my being here: the reconstruction of my missing data base. Plus, it has been even longer since I last saw my wife. Logic indicates it is time to find out what has become of her. Captain America and the She-Hulk seemed concerned for her well-being."

It's funny that the evil ooze's plans have otherwise been all "everything transpires according to my plans!" and they just forgot Vision.

Now that Vision is thinking about it, Mr. Random's claim that Wanda took off after leaving Vision doesn't really fit with her previous behavior.

Buuuuut, he has no reason to think Mr. Random would just lie about it! So he's going to go find Wanda.

Goddammit Vision. This is why emotions are good, actually!

Vision flies straight up from the facility and JUST HAPPENS to do so right when the Great Lakes Avengers are flying by in their plane. And they JUST HAPPEN to spot Vision so Hawkeye has Big Bertha turn the plane around to rendezvous with Vision.

Hawkeye introduces Vision to the Great Lakes Avengers and Vision says that Midwest Avengers would be a better name. So Hawkeye defensively says the name wasn't his idea.

Then Hawkeye asks about the Quinjet distress signal and Vision doesn't really know but Cap did mention something about that.

SPEAKING OF CAP, Mr. Random and his guys are studying Cap to find out why the evil bacteria can't take him over.

There's some factor in his bio-matrix that blocks the assimilator apparently.

She-Hulk speculates that it might be the super-soldier serum, still in his bloodstream after all this time. Chemically blocking the assimilator.

WHICH MAKES ME WONDER.

Why does super-soldier serum block the assimilator. And gamma radiation do nothing?

Because the evil bacteria is in every "higher life form", it should be in Cap so it should be able to take him over. But its apparently been completely eradicated from his system.

And I just have a lot of questions about how the evil bacteria works. If the evil bacteria is in everyone, why does it mostly seem to be operating out of this college. Instead of... everywhere?

Why come up with a scheme to kidnap Wanda when you can just bacterially zonk Hank Pym and expose Wanda to the ooze under guise of a medical procedure?

Why worry about Cap and She-Hulk investigating if you could just zonk them? Was the assimilator an outside compound that had to be introduced to allow She-Hulk to be taken over? She-Hulk is now loyal to the cause but she doesn't even know what the cause is. So if the evil bacteria is controlling everything, is everyone a hive mind? They're not acting like it. She-Hulk had to be told by Mr. Random not to kill Cap.

HOPEFULLY this all gets explained.

Wanda shows up, unoozed (or looking unoozed, wearing her usual costume) to exposit the hell out of the backstory.

Blah blah blah, first cellular life split in two. One was evil and ate the other one. From then on, all lief had the evil bacteria in it. The evil bacteria guided the evolution of dinosaurs and made them masters of the world until the evil bacteria made the (wrong) decision that dinosaurs were a dead end and abandoned them for mammals.

Scarlet Witch: "Without our presence to guide them, the dinosaurs quickly died out."

Okay, well, fuck the meteor theory then. What really caused the extinction of the dinosaurs was abandonment of evil bacteria.

She-Hulk asks if the evil bacteria is conscious and making decisions. And Mr. Random finally explains some of how it works.

Mr. Random: "While it is true a form of intelligence developed in us almost immediately... for the most part, that intelligence lay dormant. It was many millions of years before we learned to control the process Charles Darwin named 'natural selection.' Once that occurred, however, we began to take an active interest in our hosts. Once every hundred thousand years our intellect manifests itself in a few... ah... random creatures. We study the progress of life. We match the adaptability of one species against another. An assessment is made. Those life forms we judge to be at their maximum potential we abandon. Our presence within their cells shrinks, dwindling eventually to nothing. And our guiding intellect turns to other, more profitable species. After all, our whole and sole purpose is to endure. Thus, we left the dinosaurs in favor of concentrating on the mammals. There we further narrowed our focus to the ultimate mammal, mankind. When Neanderthal proved unsuitable, we shifted to Cro-Magnon."

And presumably on to homo sapiens and now to homo superior.

This whole thing feels like Byrne got really interested in some junk science and wanted to shove it in the book. Like Kirby and his Chariots of the Gods obsession.

Before Mr. Random can further words words words, "Avengers" show up and assemble.

Mockingbird starts kicking college students in the face while Flatman wraps them up in his fantastically stretchy body. And Vision does that fisting thing he does.

Based on one entire page of action, Vision declares the Great Lakes Avengers "most efficient." So I guess that training was worth it.

Possessed She-Hulk tries smashing Big Bertha with a giant techno tube but she's got Blob-esque ability to absorb hits. And in response, she jumps up and crushes She-Hulk underneath her.

I bet She-Hulk is really glad she did this guest starring role now.

Doorman and Mr Immortal spot a big locked chamber that seems really important. In fact, the college student mooks are trying really hard to keep the Great Lakes Avengers away from it.

So obviously, Doorman and Mr Immortal want to see what's in there.

Doorman stands against the big locked door, forming a portal, and Mr Immortal dives through him.

And inside he finds the Assimilator. Apparently not a drug or an ooze, apparently a big piece of tech.

A big piece of tech that creates the telepathic link between all the people infested with evil bacteria. And if its busted, the evil bacteria's plans will be delayed for a hundred millennia.

So, seems like a good idea to bust it and save the day, right? Bad guys just exposed their flashing red weak point and begged the hero not to strike them in it and thwart them totally.

Well, Mr Random thought of that. The Assimilator is protected by a chamber that will flood with deadly radiation if anyone steps inside.

But no sooner can you say, "this looks like a job for Aquaman," Mr Immortal gleefully jumps into the death chamber. When a plot presents you with something tailor made to your skills, you gotta seize the day.

Mr Immortal: "All you're threatening me with is death! An' dyin' is what I do best!"

The mad lad.

Back over at the fight, She-Hulk throws Big Bertha off of her and readies a punching fist. But then suddenly is overcome by a sense of not knowing where the fuck she is or why she's doing what the fuck she's doing.

And it's not just She-Hulk. All the college people that were working for Big Bacteria suddenly start wandering around in a daze.

Mr Random himself has no idea why Vision is calling him Mr Random. His name is Charles Edison.

... Why did bacteria possessed Charles Edison change his name to Mr Random? What's the sense in that?

Anyway, Mr Edison tells the Avengers that there's a dude of theirs dead in the radiation chamber.

But despite the eulogizing the poor, deceased Mr Immortal, Hawkeye just opens up the radiation chamber (the radiation is off now although you'd think the chamber itself would still be radioactive?) and has Flatman scoop Mr Immortal up (you'd think that Mr Immortal would be radioactive?) without touching the pressure sensored flooring.

Since Mr Immortal is dead as a doornail, Big Bertha estimates he'll be back up in approximately ten minutes.

It's fun to have a dude whose power is "doesn't die" so the team can throw him at all the death traps.

Hey, now that the action is done. I have to comment.

Byrne still keeps Wanda from doing... anything.

Post-hypnotic suggestion kept her from fighting Fake Ultron. And then she was too paralyzed by feelings to fight Beserk Vision. And then Mr Random sprung a trap on her faster than she could react two issues ago. And, sure, she fought Cap and She-Hulk but it was revealed that they threw the fight and weren't even hurt. And now when the big Great Lakes Avengers rescue showed up, Scarlet Witch didn't fight any of them. She just hung around with Mr Random.

It keeps happening.

Byrne doesn't seem to want her to contribute to action scenes.

Also, as the Great Lakes Avengers first Avengers level mission where they held their own and showed their stuff... It was okay.

They showed up on page 16 out of 23 on unlimited. They basically all got to do one thing to show their stuff. The issue is titled Baptism of Fire, which I assume is referring to the Great Lakes Avengers entering the Big Times but, yeah. They got a couple pages at the end of a complicated plot and happened to find the Resolve Story button.

I'm so far not impressed with how Byrne is balancing three teams in his two interconnected team books.

Anyway, Hawkeye declares that due to bacterial possession, nobody is getting arrested for any of this.

I suspect that he doesn't really want to untangle the situation.

Charles Edison: "... Thank you for that, at least, Hawkeye. It's bad enough to realize I've lost half a lifetime and every penny I own to this thing, without having to face a jail sentence as well."

Vision explains (how does he know???) that the evil bacteria awoke in him and took over his brain. It compelled him to use his family fortune to buy Absolom University and use it as evil bacteria HQ. Also, it apparently compelled him to change his name to Mr Random.

Then, Mr Random gathered together a few hundred other people that the evil bacteria had also awoken in and they all donated DNA to build the assimilator, which I guess let them awaken other people's evil bacteria and create a telepathic link between each other.

Hence why the evil bacteria people were always verbally discussing things and weren't always on the same page.

This plot is dumb.

I understand the mechanics of it all better now. In a last page exposition dump kind of way. But its dumb.

The Evil Bacteria were supposed to be influencing evolution but it seems most of them were doing a snooze. And they needed a big technological thing despite not needing it when they ruled the dinosaurs.

This has been a stupid ass plot.

I'm pretty the last bit of it is why the plot even exists and why I think its because Byrne got enamored with junk science.

Scarlet Witch: "But... Vision... it's all so... frightening... The memories the Assimilator placed inside me... I still have them... Can it be the dinosaurs died because That Which Endures left? And if it someday leaves mankind for the mutants, as it planned..." Vision: "I am not properly programmed to consider such philosophical matters, Wanda..." Captain America: "Maybe not... but I have something to say... I don't know how much of what we've learned today I'm really prepared to accept... Maybe it's all true. Maybe without That Which Endures mankind would still be squatting in the caves, afraid of the dark, of the thunder and lightning. But I like to think there's something more to humanity than just a few pounds of flesh and bone. Something deep inside that sets us apart in the scheme of things. I hope that's true. And I hope no part of it was due to That Which Endures. For if it is... if we are no more than vehicles for this parasite... When a day comes that the Survivor does finally depart... We're going to find ourselves very much alone..."

Meh.

Also, I'm sure its fine that evil bacteria stuffed Wanda's head full of mutant superiority rhetoric and that she still has those memories at the end of this.

I'm sure that's just fine.

Follow @essential-avengers because everything is going to fine forever and nothing will be blisteringly stupid in this book ever. Like, comment, reblog, give me attention. I'm lonely. Just kidding, I've got a cat curled up against my arm as I type this. I live a good life.

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skeletap · 8 months

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How much did Spinal Tap's personality change over the years? Any core values or traits that are different?

He's the complete opposite of how he was when I first made him. Originally he was a self insert and had no real personality seperate from me.

Then when he became a 200x oc, where initially he was from 'hell' and had no connections to starseed. He was the one with the borderline obsessive crush, and was more than willing to kill because he was a generic demon character w/no real background. I also didn't really have any traits 'rules' in set for him as a character.

When I began Prima Materia is when he became what he is now. Nothing's really changed since except maybe a few details about him. But he essentially is what I consider "Spinal Tap" now. The thornimp prince from Coreternia, who became the Pananacean 28 years prior to the story, and was locked up and medically experimented on by his older sister who wanted his power for herself so she wouldn't be kicked off the throne.

As for the rules/character traits I have for him now;

Spinal Tap speaks Eternian as a second language learned through books, and has a 'posh' manner of speaking where he doesn't use contractions (ex. he does not use 'doesn't'), and will say big or extra words to pad his sentences. Words or concepts he hears but doesn't know are immediently written in his journal to look into later. A rule I ammended recently is he will slip into speaking in Preternian when he's in distress.

He's deeply religious (afterall he is the chosen one to a god) and has more reserved values than his counterpart Skeletor. He dresses modestly compared to his Evil Warrior peers, and will not say or do things he considers innapropiate. He also abides to thornimp courting traditions in terms of relationships but its more how his species chooses mates rather than a societal construct. But he's also a hypocrite and reads a ton of erotic novels and freely breaks the dress code he insists he abides by.

As before, he's religious, and as a follower of Starseed he cares a lot about health and wellbeing. So he would not kill or cause grave bodily harm, and approaches conflict as "knock out and flee", and will heal his opponents before leaving. He doesn't treat himself with the same kindness due to being tortured for years and having to cover it up w/his healing powers, and is prone to be self destructive when distressed.

Spinal Tap is also emotionally and socially stunted, even if he puts up a demure of a modest prince. He's a bit awkward at times, and will prattle on about things he likes of knows about. He is also prone to tone switching very quickly and can turn from one emotional to another on a dime, and can easily be at the mercy of his own emotions as he doesn't handle stress very well.

In terms of what he likes. He loves alchemy and botany, and will go on lectures about either subject. But he also enjoys reading romance novels, foraging, and doing stereotypical royalty nonsense like going to the opera and drinking wine and fancy cheeses. He will get his work done as quick (but quality) as possible to dedicate as much time to his freetime, which is primarily taken up by gardening.

And theres a bit more... but you can read my stories to get a taste of who Spinal Tap is as a character :)

Anyway I gotta eat my breakfast I let get cold writing this, tata!

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raveneira · 2 years

Text

Never forget

That SP after 15 years of working on Naruto completely forgot how the Sharingan worked.

Sarada already had 2 tomoe, the point being made here is that her Sharingan didnt evolve even after watching someone she considers like a brother just jump to his death, someone she feels a great love for [romantic platonic or whatever, love is love] just died right before her eyes and her Sharingan, the eyes that reflect the heart, DOESNT evolve from it neither becoming 3T nor MS as it should.

People have argued its because she didnt give in to the curse of hatred and rejected it thats why but that bs falls falt because 1 thats not how the Sharingan WORKS and 2 Kagami, Shisui, and Itachi ALSO did NOT succumb to the curse of hatred and their Sharingans STILL evolved when under distress be it from watching a loved one die, wanting to protect a loved one, anything that puts them under great emotional stress TRIGGERS their Sharingan to evolve ESPECIALLY when watching a loved one die.

Sarada said she hated Ikada and also told him that she was so sad it felt like her heart was being crushed, and yet ZERO reaction from her Sharingan.

I aint lettin this go forgotten because SP made it officially canon that Boruto is not important enough to Sarada to make her Sharingan evolve like so many ykw stans claimed it would, like ppl were really sayin Sarada would get MS from Boruto more so than her own parents lol

Blame SP not me but never forget, it is now officially canon that Boruto and Sarada’s bond is NOT that deep like many claimed it to be, their bond is so weak that watching him die doesnt even cause a simple 3T.

Even putting personal bias aside and being strictly objective that is surprising and ridiculous even to me, not that I wanted her to get 3T or MS from this god awful arc but I still want the characters powers to function as they’ve always been established to work. Like what is the point of having Sarada watch Boruto die and then go on a whole speech about how important Boruto is to her if her Sharingan wasnt gonna reflect that? its crazy, they might as well left the whole fake out death part out if they werent gonna be consistent.

Shipping aside this is just a fundamental function of the Sharingan, doesnt matter if you think shes inlove with Boruto or just a dear friend, literally EITHER would cause the Sharingan to react as long as she felt ANY kind of deep love for him which it did not.

So never forget, it is 100% canon that Boruto and Sarada are not that close and her Sharingan 100% will not evolve over him, not even if he dies, SP officially debunked that theory. Blame SP and Kodachi for that not me because remember, Kodachi is the one who said EVERYTHING in the anime is canon so 🤷‍♀️ whether Im being objective or biased that is an indisputable fact he set.

#boruto #boruto anime #boruto next generations

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raybyanothername · 1 year

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Aah there is a lot I want to ask for. For now: 16. QQ - ST:VOY. <3

Oh~ That's a good one!

QQ is my running document for Quantum Quirks, which is my Q2-centric fic. Eventually, one day, it will also be Q/Icheb, but right now they're both adjusting to earth in a post-canon world. Janeway is long suffering. The Federation has hypocrites getting in everyone's way. O'Brien appears and is awesome.

The document is very sparse right now so I don't have any good snippets to share that aren't already posted. I *will* say that despite being at nearly 30k, the fic is still in its first 'arc.' Eventually it'll incorporate even more TNG and Deep Space Nine characters and lore. It's a very long term project.

Naomi is meant to pop up in the next chapter, but it's being frustrating. Eventually the muses will provide though! Or I'll scrap it entirely and start again...

Here's a favorite scene, from chapter 12, because writing Tuvok with Icheb brought me great joy and wanted to share.

-.-.-

"Icheb. This is not the day or hour of our scheduled communication." Tuvok's voice was neither warm nor cold. It was simply neutral, same as his expression.

"Is this moment inconvenient?" Icheb asked, mirroring the arched brow that rose on Tuvok's face.

"It is not," Tuvok waited for Icheb to continue. His eyebrow arched further when Icheb struggle to speak. "Is something wrong, Icheb? You are not prone to spontaneity and your silence is... disconcerting."

Shifting in his seat in front of the communication terminal. He glanced towards Seven's door, lips pursing. "Captain Janeway told Q that dreams are a way to process emotions. Do they have any other function?"

"Dreams do not have a set function. Their purpose and meaning vary dependent not just on the species experiencing them, but on the culture of the individual."

Icheb frowned, "The interpretation of dreams is entirely subjective then?"

"Yes," Tuvok inclined his head, "May I inquire as to the reason for your questions?" Icheb shifted again and Tuvok straightened, almost imperceptibly. "On last we spoke, we had discussed your difficulty transitioning to sleep versus regeneration."

Shoulders slumping, Icheb narrowed his eyes on the controls of the terminal. He rubbed absently at his arm, startling as his hand made contact with bare skin. His shirt had only short sleeves and he had not yet retrieved a sweater from his wardrobe.

"You appear distressed," Tuvok commented and Icheb blushed. His hand dropped to his lap and his fingers twisted together as Tuvok hummed, "As I recall, you said that sleeping was not as restful as regeneration."

"It's not," Icheb frowned, nose wrinkling. Tuvok arched a brow again. Icheb huffed, "I know I can't regenerate like I use to, but it's still better than sleep. It's... calming."

"Without a cortical node, your 'regeneration' is now merely a method of meditation. While it may help center you and organize your thoughts, it is not a replacement for sleep."

Tuvok's gaze was now pointed. Focused. Icheb sighed, meeting his sharp eyes with his own, "I am sleeping, Tuvok. It is simply... less pleasant."

"Your dreams are causing you discomfort," Tuvok stated. He didn't blink until Icheb nodded slowly. "Do you wish to discuss them?"

"They're normally not..." Icheb trailed off, ducking his head. He didn't look at Tuvok as he said, "I didn't like them, before, but they're different now. I don't know what that means."

If he were speaking to anyone else, Icheb expected they might ask him to clarify. Tuvok did not pry. He understood that if Icheb wanted to share, he would.

Instead, the vulcan merely inclined his head forward slightly, "It is my understanding that dreams change regularly. In my own experience, the same dream repeated has been a sign of emotional imbalance."

"So dreams can reflect our emotional state? What we're feeling?" Icheb's head snapped up, eyes fluttering as his cheeks pinked.

Once more, the eyebrow arched. Icheb blushed brighter.

"Are you embarrassed by the emotions that you believe your dreams may reflect?" Tuvok asked and Icheb pursed his lips. He nodded mutely. "Shame is not logical, Icheb. You have no control over what you dream about. Nor can you control your emotions, only how you respond to them."

It was several moments before Icheb nodded, swallowing thickly, "I don't understand why the dreams have changed now though."

"Changes, dreams or otherwise, are often a reaction to something," Tuvok reminded him. The silence stretched, but Tuvok didn't let it linger this time. "I understand there was an incident recently. With Q."

"We had an argument," Icheb rubbed at his arm again, head ducking low, "I did not control my response to my emotions well."

"You are young, and still learning," Tuvok said. "My reason for bringing it up is not to discuss your response, but to ask if you believe it is connected. Did the events that transpired between yourself and Q a few days ago change something between the two of you?"

Icheb wished desperately to be wearing a sweater. Not for warmth, but to hide the fact that his whole body was now rising in temperature once again. His skin growing red. Eyes widening, he opened his mouth to say something, but no words were forthcoming.

"By your reaction, I can only assume that the answer is yes," Tuvok's lips curved just slightly upward. The barest of twitches.

#ray answers #ask game #ray rambles #star trek voyager

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corvatrix · 1 year

Text

Nothing We Learn Is Useless | Scythe by Neal Shusterman

RATING ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

💡 REVIEW

Incredible, fascinating book. Lots of thoughts on empathy, compassion, personal growth, consequences, and what it means to be human when your mortality is no longer an issue. Parts of the book were a bit predictable, but it wasn’t so bad that it felt like lazy or cliché writing...it felt like good writing with consistent characterization and world building.

The book ends on a cliffhanger, but the ending is also satisfying enough if you were to just read the one book by itself. I already own the next two books (hurray for box sets!) and I cannot wait to devour them.

Spoilers and predictions below. Please keep spoilers out of the comments!

🗝️ THEMES

The pain of empathy

Humanity and the loss of innocence

Duty and honor vs. passion and desire

Emotional intelligence and vulnerability

Worthiness (and who decides worthiness & unworthiness)

📖 TROPES

Coming-of-age

Teenagers selected for special assignment (Chosen Ones)

Teen angst

Starcrossed lovers

Good guy wants to keep things as they are; bad guy wants systemic change

Political intrigue

Life-or-death stakes

📆 PREDICTIONS

Rowan & Citra are star-crossed and I’m sure the romance will grow, but there will absolutely be conflict; this will probably be the differences in their opinions on how to behave as scythes and what should be done about the more “progressive” members of the Scythedom

The Tonists are going to be a major plot point moving forward (possibly an uprising and a desire to return to mortality, or at least giving people the option to be mortal)

Curie & Faraday will fall in love again and end up gleaning each other

Goddard sympathizers will continue to push for limitless gleaning

Rowan will find Citra’s “old guard” ideals problematic and Citra will think Rowan is going too far gleaning Goddard sympathizers

💬 QUOTES

“Scythes were no more supernatural than tax collectors in the grand scheme of things. They showed up, did their unpleasant business, and were gone.”

“It’s refreshing to be challenged. You have no idea how tedious it gets--the pandering, the obsequious flattery, the endless parade of sycophants. A slap in the face is bracing. It reminds me that I’m human.”

“We’re roughage. If we don’t cause a little intestinal distress, no one knows we’re there.”

“Good intentions pave many roads. Not all of them lead to hell.”

“Nothing we learn is useless.”

“Scythes wished to be seen as the many facets of light, not of darkness.”

“There are no accolades for the unworthy.”

“Motives can easily be beaten into weapons.”

“I live here not because of its extravagance, but because my presence here is the only way to preserve it.”

“It’s not about age, it’s about stagnation. Some people grow stagnant before they turn their first corner. For others it could take hundreds of years.”

“Learn how to show compassion in the face of tragedy. It was emotionally exhausting, but rewarding. It was preparing her to be a scythe.”

“The idea of irrevocable death without the controlled hand of a scythe was too much to bear for a world that had conquered mortality.”

“In a profession where conscience was a liability, who would want one?”

“I am legend. Yet every day I wish that I was not.”

“I think all young women are cursed with a streak of unrelenting foolishness, and all young men are cursed with a streak of absolute stupidity.”

“Although scythes may be the most powerful humans on Earth, they are also the most vulnerable.”

“There are times I feel I am fighting a losing battle against an old-fashioned apocalypse of the living dead.”

“He wanted to be a failure, because only by failing would he know that he held on to a shred of his humanity.”

“My greatest wish for humanity is not for peace or comfort or joy. It is that we all still die a little inside every time we witness the death of another. For only the pain of empathy will keep us human. There’s no version of God that can help us if we ever lose that.”

“Martyrs testify far more effectively than the living.”

“In our line of work we must hold on to every bit of honor we have.”

#aoas #scythe #bookreview #five stars #read #books

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killervelveteenrabbit · 7 months

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Batman's Contingency Plan for Moon Girl

“Agamemno Contingency: Moon Girl Magic.”

“Moon Girl is active in New York’s Lower East Side, a part of the city admittedly underserved by superheroes. While she appears to have some rudimentary combat training, she mostly relies on gadgets and chemical weapons, apparently crafted in-house but skillfully constructed and deployed. As if this were not enough, her sidekick is a Tyrannosaurus rex brought into the present day by interdimensional transport. Moon Girl can communicate with this creature, known as ‘Devil Dinosaur’ or simply ‘Devil’, and he is mostly obedient to her commands. He can even respond independently to provide backup as necessary.”

“Moon Girl activated to respond to increased levels of crime in her community, perpetuated by run-of-the-mill criminals and supervillains. Locals regard her as a ‘hometown hero’ thanks to her acts of community service and for the simple act of standing up for her neighborhood when no one else would. It helps that she has a robust and sophisticated presence on multiple social media platforms.”

“This very activity helped me learn Moon Girl’s secret identity—a liability others might exploit in the future, but I’ll discuss that later. I had little difficulty connecting all her assorted accounts to Casey Goldberg-Calderon, a local middle school student and budding influencer. Casey attends school and is close friends with one Lunella Lafayette, who has already attracted notice for her advanced academic performance and scientific endeavors. Further analysis confirmed that Lunella is indeed Moon Girl.”

“Moon Girl’s potential for growth is unlimited at this point. She fights crime singlehandedly at an age when most similarly inclined young people are still being mentored by adults. She has held her own against the interdimensional being known as the Beyonder, and SHIELD has supported her in capturing criminals already on its radar."

“Additionally, Lunella’s grandmother, Miriam Lafayette, provided critical assistance in the early development of portal technology before the project she worked on went pear-shaped and she went underground. Some of her friends from graduate school recently provided Moon Girl with upgrades to her suit, and they may offer additional assistance in the future.”

“My contingency plans for Moon Girl may change as her skills evolve, but right now I’m keeping it simple. Devil is loyal to Moon Girl but easily distracted, especially by food. Hot dogs seem to be his favorite. Alfred has provided me with an assortment of sausages from Gotham’s finest restaurants and butcher shops, suitable for rapid deployment upon first contact. Moon Girl would prove a more challenging opponent. I should be able to counteract her attacks—while super-intelligent, she is relatively inexperienced. I’m more concerned with the psychological factors that might cause her to go rogue.”

“At present and in this timeline, Moon Girl has a loving supportive family and friends, even if most of them are momentarily unaware of her superhero work. Also, she has deep roots within the Lower East Side and is fiercely protective of her neighborhood. If she lost that family and community support, or if something threatened those connections—possibly by blackmail if her civilian identity was compromised—she might be convinced to violate her moral code or she might simply snap.”

“To that end, I’ve created dummy accounts on all the social media platforms Lunella Lafayette uses in both her civilian and superhero personas. The trackers I’ve set up will alert me to any changes in posting frequency or content that suggests emotional upset. I can intervene on a case-by-case basis, either by actively confronting the entity or entities causing her distress or by merely posting and coordinating supportive messages on her profiles.”

“Incidentally, I find it necessary to make a record of my contingency plans if only to explain to any outside parties—and myself—why a grown man from Gotham is registered on SnapTok and Tumblebook as ‘moongirlsuperfan’, a 16-year-old girl from Harlem. I’m indebted to both Batgirl and Oracle for their help in building this profile. Just deciding which member of BTS to have a crush on proved daunting.”

#batman #batman contingency plan #lunella lafayette #casey goldberg-calderon #casey calderon #moon girl #devil dinosaur #moon girl and devil dinosaur #mgadd

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someguynamedraeburn · 1 year

Text

when the topic of kinks come up.

well, here I go again, just venting this into what is meant to be a void for this to get lost in. Today while chatting with my group of friends, the topic of the show “totally spies” came up and some one had mapped out, in the first three season of the show, all the different kinks that were being brought to the forefront and developing in a lot of the youth that watched the show at the time.

While one of our friends isn’t comfortable with discussing their own kinks in much detail. we’ve had some light conversation about their kinks but never really gone into much detail due to their own misgivings. I wouldn’t hold it against them, discussing the topic for a lot of people is very uncomfortable. alas i digress, they were trying to ask that no one be called out for their particular kink (not unreasonable). well my thinking was that being amongst friends that wouldn’t be an issue, this was my mistake.

well at some point while another friend was discussing the list they apparently pointed out that this show is why friend one might be the way they are. this caused some issue for this friend because this caused them some distress of some level.

Later while alone with this friend they proceeded to lash out to me for not letting them set a boundary. they feel that I was brushing them off, and that I am the reason the conversation was pointed to them.

well, truth be told I’m did not, and will not take that. I told them that I’m not the person they should be having this conversation with because I’m not the one who was pointing them out during the conversation.

on another note had they actually paid any attention to what I was doing and or saying during this conversation, they might have realized I kept trying to steer the conversation away from them and towards myself by calling out my own kinks and even some of the ties from TV programs from my youth that were an influence for my kinks today,

once again I’ve digressed, but who cares its not like this is going to be read by anyone anytime soon, this is all for me to just vent.

at the end of the day, I’m of the opinion, it doesn’t matter what you’re into as long as people are happy and safe, though I suppose I shouldn’t and can’t expect everyone to be in the same thought or feel the same as I do. I guess what I’m trying to say is, sometimes people misdirect their anger or other negative emotions to the wrong person because its an easy outlet for them without considering how it may affect the person they are going after rather than trying to have a honest and open dialogue with the person they actually are upset with because it’s easier to confront some one you’re used to having these conversations with rather than trying to break new ground with some one new.

Well, that’s all for this round. until my next pointless rant, Take care of yourselves and remember, the world sucks but we can carve out a little piece of our own Utopia if we try.

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hereliesbitches--me · 1 year

Note

❝ i’ve always wondered. are all your kind hunters and fighters, or just a few? ❞

The silver tip of the curved blade slid seamlessly between the thin layer that separates skin and muscle. The buck, a sizeable beast that would have gone for a hefty price back home for its bulk and antlers, stared blankly into the distance ; bewilderment , maybe even fear, the last emotion permanently set within its large dark eyes.

Rosie never liked hunting animals... innocent as they were, baser creatures that lacked the inherent evils that seemed to come with higher evolved intelligence. They lived a simple existence, and for that the angel envied them. Between herself and Tal, a long day worth of traveling left them both to a state of limited conversation. Or maybe it was simply herself that felt too tired to make playful conversation while she gutted and dismantled the buck into desirable quarters of meat they could probably preserve for the next few days. The sun receding behind the tree lines left the sky painted in shades of vibrant orange and pinks and cooled the air gradually. As shadows grew around them, the fire Tal set provided a comfortable warmth and light to keep working ; its gentle crackling gave Rosie something to focus on so the slick of meat separating from bone didn't draw her too deep into her own unsavory thoughts. But the warmth felt familiar and comforting on her hands, the tang of iron in her nostrils flared an emotional response of pleasure of her spine. Her tail swayed absently, her tongue lapped at her lips as she cradled its muscular heart between her palms and set it down atop of the skinned pelt. For a moment she very nearly felt the urge to squeeze it, just to feel it squelch -- Tal'um's voice struck her out of her own devolving state, enough so that she flinched ever so slightly in having her silence broken. She froze,

❝ i’ve always wondered. are all your kind hunters and fighters, or just a few? ❞

"Your kind" , The statement echoes in her mind, and her hands slip away from the bloody organs to wipe themselves within her red cloak. Her kind, he may not have known, could mean very different things. Having to face that fact had an inadvertent effect in causing a minor spiral in regard to her identity. What was she, after all?

A Human? An Atrolian? An Angel? Or a Moon?

At the core, she had become all these things in time. A true daughter of Death. A reanimated corpse that should have been dead more than a few times. A mother who made sacrifices for her children's safety, something so human. And an angel who failed to grasp the world as it slipped between her hands.

It makes her head hurt. Her chest tightened with discomfort of something squirming inside what feels like her ribs - under the skin, weaving between muscle and organs. Distress etches lines into her creasing forehead before Rosie grunts and wipes a hand to smooth them away. Breathe, comes that distorted hiss within , You're overthinking.

So she listens. Inhaling unevenly through the nostrils, then blowing out softly. Finding her bearings, the twitching of her tail had stopped entirely and her ears stood taller in focus. She takes seconds to school her expression to one more relaxed before she glanced pensively at her companion,

" ...Depends on which part of my kind you're referring to." she keeps her answer vague on purpose, setting down the knife. The Deer meat is speared without much effort , the larger chunks of hind quarters are offered to Tal to set over the roast,

" But I'm assuming you must mean the part of me that got me the wings. We call em Angels in my world. Kind of umbrella term, if you will."

Rosie's never been good with eye contact unless she has to. She keeps her eyes down as she wraps up the rest of the meat within the pelt to rinse off by the river once the moon comes out. Explaining the species of her world would at least prove to be maybe a little more interesting for the dragon if this world seemed to lack them.

" There's categories to it, but the kind that has wings like me are tribal. You have a mix of hunters and gatherers, and they stay away from the human populace if they can help it. I cant say i know this from experience, only based on research --"

Angels from the mountain springs, home where the ancient fallen go to die. The very same angels hunted by the humans and used for feathers, blood, and breeding. To voice the atrocities committed against them had no place in such casual conversation, but the fact of the matter boils an anger deep in the veins. Rosie twists around and pulls her knees up, focusing on the fire,

" I wasn't born with these wings. Not with these powers either. But the gaining of these abilities is more of an outrageous, unbelievable story that you'd think I made up when I have to tell it."

#:answered:#tornscales #:V: Chronostory:#bro after 2 years i literally save everything #and for that im sorry #but i hoard all this stuff because it has so much potential

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t-z-random · 3 years

Text

Sanctuary of Nightmares PT6

Platonic SB x Child Reader

Chapter Selection

Previous / Next

You were about to attempt to run away when you felt the grip of his hands encase you, causing an immideate struggle. You squirmed, kicked, punched, anything you could do to remove yourself from the sudden grip of the iron giant. You were far too blinded by your fear to even listen to him as he swiftly began walking, the clicks of not only his feet but other animatronics filling the air. There were faint words that made it to you. Such as 'calm down' and 'I'm not going to hurt you'. You didn't believe that of course. Especially as his hands pressed into the bruises on the side of your body creating a spike of pain as you moved. It was a while after this struggle when he finally set you down, your body leaving him as soon as he let you go. You attempted to run only to find that you were in some sort of small enclosed space you could faintly tell was an elevator. Absolute terror ran through your system as you turmed to stare up at the huge bear.

You had never expected these things to be so enormous.

You quickly pushed yourself into a corner, trying to keep your distance from him. He attempted to take a step closer but seemed to stop when that action earned a terrified squeak along with you crumbling to the ground in an attempt to get smaller, your head tucked in your knees as if what you couldn't see wouldn't hurt you.

These characters had been your sanctuary, your safe haven. They were the thoughts your mind wandered to when hoping for better things.

You could not have imagined them being this terrifing.

Each metallic and robotic sound only further increased your fear, the source of the noise unseen by you. Eventually you heard no sound at all, your body waiting for an attack.

"Please, please calm down. I swear I will not harm you I-"

"Let me handle this Freddy. I think I can help" a boy's voice suddenly cut off the animatronic, the sound too human to belong to any bot. Yet in your panic, you couldn't have known the difference. All you knew was that you wanted to leave, to get out of here! You wanted home, you wanted normal. None of this can be real, it can't be real it can't-

"Hey...can you hear me?" The voice spoke again, this time closer to you. It was cautious with a clear child-like quality held in it.

It was then that you listened, your racing mind slamming to a halt at the strangeness of hearing anything human. Your quiet sobbing slowed, your head slowly rising only to come face to face with a boy, one similar to who you'd seen earlier.

The emotional whiplash that came from your mind slowly registering that the boy was real was enough to allow your body to subconsciously catch its breath as your mind focused on him.

Once you were looking at him, your rivers of tears slowly stopping, he managed to give a faint smile. It wasn't a very convincing one, in fact he had absolutely no idea what he was doing or how he had stopped your panic. He had only volunteered to try because he was less threatening than the seemingly ten-foot bear.

"I-I'm...Gregory...this is Freddy. He's safe. He's one of the good guys!" The brown-haired boy who you now knew as Gregory explained, his voice switching between nervous and confident faster than you could think to react to it. Freddy gave a small wave when mentioned, though he kept his movement to a minimum as to not further scare you.

Despite his animatronic body not allowing for much expression, he stood almost anxiously, his eyes not diverting from you. His drooped ears helped to further show his own distress, though it was clear that he didn't entirely know how to help a child who was scared of him.

You looked between the two, debating your situation for a moment.

The last animatronic you thought was safe had terrified the living daylights out of you, not to mention attacked this kid. So you were a bit skeptical about the boy's words along with the bot behind him. But, dispite your continued apprehension, you felt a little inclined to believe the boy. He seemed to know a little more than you with his abilities to outmaneuver Moon and having been able to get close to the huge bear, not to mention that he was older than you. If there was anyone who you'd hope to help you in your current situation it would be an older human.

Before you could continue to process your current situation a loud sound startled you back into a defensive postion, your arms wrapped around your legs as they were pulled against your chest. Freddy, not wanting you to regress after Gregory had managed to calm you a little, was quick to address the noise.

"Do not worry! That was just the doors opening! It is nothing to be afraid of! Look" he spoke up before moving to touch the open doors as if to further show their safety.

"See! No danger! You are safe!" Freddy almost enthusiastically replied, his face holding what you assumed was a smile as if he was genuinely proud of partaking in the conversation.

You weren't sure what it was about his over-the-top display, but you found it rather funny to watch the massive bear that had seemed so terrifying only seconds before, move to show you just how safe a door was. The genuine way in which he did so also helped with the comedy of it. So, in spite of yourself, a small laugh escaped your lips, heavily contrasting with your tear-stained face. You quickly tried to muffle it though, afraid you might upset the bear.

The small laugh allowed Freddy to somewhat relax, his stiff posture loosening now that you were calming down a little bit.

Feeling the tense air alleviate slightly Gregory decided to but in again. After all, he wanted to get out of here and he wasn't going to do that of you all were just standing aroun.

"Uh look uh I know we just kinda met but we've gotta get out of here. The robots in this place have gone crazy and the security guard isn't gonna help us. Freddy says there are two ways we can go so I was gonna go to the fire escape. There probably aren't as many security doors there." Gregory explained before outstretching a hand towards you, offering to help you up.

"It's probably safer if you stick with us"

You stared at his hand for a moment, unsure if you should accept the gesture. It didn't take long for you to realize you didn't want to be alone in this place and take his hand. He pulled you up but didn't let go of your hand once you stood and neither did you with his. It seemed that you both were gaining some comfort in each other.

"I will guide you in the direction of the exit, though I will not be able to help you most of the way. It is probably best if you get a map" Freddy explained as he took a few steps out of the elevator. The two of you followed suit, though Gregory held a bit more conviction in his step than you.

"Well, then where do we-" his sentence was cut short by a blaring sound, one that greatly startled both you and him. You pulled him a little closer, afraid that if he went too far you'd lose him.

"Free map"

An automated sound spoke as it outstretched a map to the two of you. You both stood in shock for a moment, the sudden dip in precived danger greatly confusing the both of you. Slowly the shock left and Gregory grabbed the two maps. It was only after doing so that the bot turned away and an annoyed look grew on Gregory's face. With a grip still tightly held onto your hand, he turned away from the bot and handed you the extra map. You took it with a slightly shaking hand, a fact that you tried to hide He seemed more easily able to get over his shock than you so you were trying to stay calm, not wanting to upset him with feeings of fear that he wasn't experiencing.

He stared at you for an extra moment, his annoyed look softening as you took the paper. He took a deep breath, loosening his grip on your hand a little before he turned back to Freddy.

"Do you have another Fazwatch?" He asked the metal bear only for Freddy to shake his head.

"They are not meant to be given out often. You have my last one" Freddy explained, his own disappointment shown once again in his lowered ears. Gregory gave a simple nod in response before turning back to you.

"Then you just have to stay close okay? We're gonna get out of here together" Gregory spoke with confidence and a warning which you took very seriously. You gave a nod, showing that you understood.

"Okay, let's get moving"

The three of you started off on your escape. You picked up rather quickly on what to do as the two avoided the moving security bots, remaining as quiet as they could. Remembering to earlier when you had run into one of these bots you soon understood their purpose and the great necessity to keep away.

They were alarms. And with alarms came people, or more terrifyingly robots, looking to catch whatever had set them off.

However, there was no sign of whoever was supposed to be listening for that alarm nearby, so there was a bit of leeway on the volume level the three of you could produce

"What is your name?" Freddy asked as he tilted his head down ever so slightly to look at you. You stared for a moment, his giant size still ringing a few alarm bells. You tried to gauge the intention behind the question through Gregory, though he seemed mostly focused on walking rather than talking. So, not sure of what to do, you kept silent, your apprehension clear but your fear not as prevalent. Freddy's ears fell again, his eyes showing his sadness in how you didn't answer.

After a bout of silence, Gregory turned to you, slight confusion written on his face.

"Aren't you gonna tell him?" He asked, unable to see why you wouldn't. You quickly averted your eyes from Gregory, feeling the burn of words in your chest.

You never really spoke much. You'd been a quiet kid even before the world had beaten silence into you, so speaking didn't come very well to you. Most times you find it better to just keep your mouth shut.

However, in the presence of two sets of searing curious eyes, you felt entirely uncomfortable and a little cautious. You didn't want to upset them. After all, you didn't really know these two or their tempers. All you knew was that they were helping you, but that could always change.

So, even if you would have preferred not to say anything, you spoke.

"Y/n" you finally answered. Your voice was a soft sound, reminiscent of a whisper in the wind as it somehow reached their ears despite its incredibly low volume.

"What a great name. It is nice to meet you Y/n" Freddy spoke, his voice lowered into just above an actual whisper almost as if he was trying to match your voice but was unable to go lower than a certain point. You kept your eyes averted, hoping he'd just let everything fall back into silence. Luckily it did.

It wasn't very long until the three of you stopped in front of a place Freddy mentioned to be El Chip's. It was only once you and Gregory stood close enough for the door to slightly open that Freddy finally turned to get a better look at you, his eyes scanning, hoping for some type of profile.

He didn't get one, but what he did notice were your injuries. They were wrapped, likely because of his good friend Sun, but they wouldn't stay that way for very long, especially with you moving around so much.

"Gregory, I would like to raise a concern. I can not guarantee that this exit will be open and, while you may be equipped to deal with the consequences if that is so, I'm worried the Y/n may not be able to. Perhaps it's better if they stay with me until you are sure there is an exit" Freddy's voice stayed at the low volume it had been at earlier though it was now twisted in concern. Gregory turned between Freddy and you with a perplexed look, seemingly not understanding Freddy's words.

"What do you mean? They look fine to me!" Gregory responded, his tone almost sharp as he spoke. You felt his hand grip tighter onto yours only for you to wince and pull away from his grip, a shock of pain burning through you. He turned back to you with confusion that quickly turned to realization.

"Oh..." Was all he could say as he seemed to finally notice your bandages. His shock only held for a moment before you saw his face twist in slight anger, his mind spinning with possibilities.

How had this happened? No no, he knew why. Those horrifying bots! They hurt you! And it seemed pretty badly too, especially as he began to notice the other wrapped injuries. God how he hated these things! You were younger than he was! How could they do that to a little kid!? It's one thing to go after him. He's been on the street since he was six, but someone so sensitive? So small? At this point he wouldn't be surprised if they killed babies!

And it was that hatred, that growing seething hatred he had for those bots and what he'd perceived they'd done to you that caused his stubborn mind to begin to build with spite.

"That's even more reason they should stay with me! The faster we both get out the better" Gregory countered, his voice rising in intensity as he turned back to Freddy. Freddy was about to protest Gregory's decision but, upon seeing the seriousness in his eyes, decided better of it. He simply sighed, kneeling down as his eyes flickered between the both of you, apprehension found in the few features that could express emotion.

"I must warn the both of you: when you enter an area where you do not have a locator map signal, I will be unable to reach you. You can update your map at the security office. It is also best to locate any good hiding spots. The daycare attendant should have been released a few minutes ago and it is not safe to be roaming when he is around. Be safe..." Freddy cautioned, his voice anxiety latent. Gregory gave a firm nod, gently grasping your hand again before crouching under the door and into what was hopefully your path out of this place.

And to think just earlier today you had wanted nothing more than to be here...

- x -

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writerlyhabits · 2 years

Text

New Exhibit

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 8.9k

Summary: After Sam gives the shield to the Smithsonian, you’re left with an angry super-soldier at your front door. And what better distraction than to take him out in town to run errands with you?

Ch 10 of the Neighbors Series | Masterlist | Ch. 9 | Ch. 11

Warnings: mild language, angry Bucky, lots of discussion about his past & his ptsd, Steve and Sam are warnings this chapter, pet names, lotsa kissing cause they’re basically dating, slightly suggestive themes?? Idk, you’re just gonna have to see that one for yourself

AN: I just wanted them to be cute and kissy and gross, okay? I tried to cut out as much of the filler as possible and just leave in the relationship developments, but I like my cutesy moments 😂 And Patty is based on an actual woman working at of the touristy shops in the town I just moved to, I thought she was a hoot, so there she is 😂 Thanks as always to my darling @deceiverofgodss for beta reading and brainstorming and bullying me into writing, ily 💛 I hope you enjoy!

Playlists: Side A | Side B

Gif from @lowkeysebastianstan

“What? I thought Sam had the shield?” It was fairly early in the morning, you were still coming to when Bucky had appeared at your front door so distressed. Well, pissed was probably a better word.

“He did,” he explained, full of hostility. You stepped to the side to let him in, and he made quick work of the space between him and the coffee table where he found your remote. He certainly was a man with a plan.

You opted against saying anything, unsure of how to respond not only because of the sleepiness still affecting you but because this was uncharted territory. You had never seen Bucky so angry; you had no doubt he’d experienced it, and he very well might have in the time you’d known him, especially with how he talked about his… distaste for his Saturday sessions with Dr. Raynor. But he’d always kept it away from you.

Everything aside, you couldn’t ignore how much you liked that he’d come to you first.

You watched his scowling features, the crease that formed between his eyebrows as he worked the remote, and only turned your attention away when he’d found what he was after and looked to you to gauge your reaction. Taking your cue, you turned to the screen to find the morning hosts seated with their papers in hand, a banner at the bottom of the screen reading a corny limerick about the museum.

And then you saw him, Sam Wilson – the avenger, The Falcon – put together in a pressed suit addressing a room full of people, then shown watching passively as a team of gloved attendants placed the iconic weapon into a glass case. Just like that, it was done.

Oh, this wasn’t going to be good.

“I don’t understand, why is he doing this?” you started, keeping your attention focused on the screen as your fuming super-soldier stormed over to the kitchen to find something to do with himself.

“Cause he thinks we need ‘heroes better suited for our time,’ and that the shield only stands with Steve behind it, like its…” He was so caught up in his own frustration he couldn’t finish his sentence, eyes trained on the glass he was filling with water as he struggled to find his words.

You took him in, noticing the slight furrow in his brow that you’d come to recognize as earnest concern, despite being overpowered by the fiery emotion at its forefront. His vibranium hand was gripped tight around the glass you feared would soon be shattered across your counter, and sought to ease his hands if nothing more.

“He’s throwing it away, putting it in the hands of fucking anybody, he-” Before he could finish his sentence you were gliding over to meet him beside the kitchen counter. You set your mug down gingerly and lifted your hands to ease the glass from his own, seeming to break whatever trance he’d been in.

He watched your nimble fingers empty his hands, and welcomed their presence when you placed them on his chest. He instinctively held your waist, a wave of calm washing over him for half a second as he felt your body close to his. His burning anger was thus reduced to a feeling of hurt; he was still angry, there was no hiding it, but it was in the way you would be angry at someone who’d cut open an old wound.

You knew their relationship was strained, pushed to work together for Steve’s sake and always keeping an eye out for the other, but determined to fight the connection as best they could. You couldn’t understand for the life of you why, but that was the fact of the matter. Bucky was taking this as a personal offense, and though you knew better than to think Sam would do something of this scale solely to antagonize the soldier, his feelings were justified. His history was tied so closely to it, you could even argue it revolved around that shield.

And now not only was it a tourist attraction, but he had to find out like everybody else, as if it had nothing to do with him.

“He’s not throwing it away, nobody’s taking it. I think he’s just trying to honor it the best he can.”

“But he shouldn’t be allowed to do it. Steve wouldn’t have wanted it,” he said quietly, his voice still so full of emotion. You had to figure out how to diffuse this before he talked himself in circles, which had likely already happened inside his head before he got to your door.

“Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but evidently Steve didn’t leave explicit instructions. He trusted that Sam would do what was right for him,” you tried, and he furrowed his brows deeper as he looked at you.

“Which can’t be this.”

“How do you know that? I might not like it, especially that he didn’t tell you about it, but you don’t know his side.”

“What damn side? What possible excuse could he have for throwing it away like that?” He argued, a little more passionately than before. You knew he took to tough love better than anything else, but he was far too worked up to make sense of anything. Your next words were a little gentler as you shifted gears.

“You know, you might get a better answer if you talked to Sam-”

“I’m not talking to him.” He shot as he cut you off, becoming more irritated at the very thought of your suggestion.

“Okay, I think you could do with a distraction. What’s done is done, and sitting here brooding about it isn’t gonna do you any good.”

Bucky didn’t say anything when you’d finished speaking, and you couldn’t tell if he was trying to come up with a retort, or thinking about what you’d said. Either way, you didn’t want to give him much longer to decide.

“Come run errands with me, turn your brain off for a few hours,” you offered gently, smoothing your hands over his chest in a soothing pattern to try and break his walls down enough to let you in. “You know I always make you feel better when you’re mad at Dr. Raynor… let me help you with this, too.”

He was silent for another moment, though his hands started to move in response to your plea, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into your side as he contemplated. He unclenched his draw and drew in a deep breath, and you felt his body relax ever so slightly as he released a sigh in resignation.

“What kind of errands?”

…

After feeding the grumpy super-soldier, and giving him a handful of tender touches and kisses in passing as you got ready, you managed to drag him out of your apartment not even an hour later. He’d loosened up enough to only keep one hand in his jacket pocket, seemingly pleased when you grabbed his other in your hand and didn’t let go until arriving at your first stop, a quaint little bookshop in town that the two of you frequented when Bucky needed a restock.

“I thought you said you were running errands, not going shopping,” he teased, a hint of a smile gracing his features as he looked over at you.

“Don’t be a smartass, are you coming with me or not?” He rolled his eyes in amusement and let you pull him through the doors into the familiar shop.

You were greeted by Patty, the overly friendly middle-aged woman who owned the store, like you were old friends – one day you hoped that to be true. It smelled like old books and the cinnamon candle she had burning, and was always warm enough to compliment the weather outside.

You sent the brooding man beside you away to go search his usual section, only being given a raised eyebrow before he went, and you made your way up to the counter to take care of business.

“When you said you got it as a surprise for James, I didn’t think you were gonna bring him with you,” the older woman poked as she settled her glasses onto the bridge of her nose, her bright red bun being the only part of her you saw as she tucked under the counter to grab your goods.

“Neither did I,” you admitted through your teeth, sparing a glance over your shoulder to make sure the man in question wasn’t lurking close by. As if you’d be able to tell if he was. “He had a rough morning, I couldn’t just leave him to sulk by himself.”

“You’re nicer than I am, I’d have told him to make himself useful while I was gone. ’S what I used to do with mine,” she rambled, resurfacing above the desk with a book-sized brown paper package she’d written your name on. God, she was good.

“Easy for you to say, Patty, you were married to yours,” you bantered, slipping the package into your purse before a pair of wandering eyes could find it.

“Then hurry up and get a ring on your finger so I can teach you how to boss him around.” Your face flushed as you shook your head in amusement – as was always her goal. “So when are you going to give it to him?” She asked, nodding towards the hidden parcel.

“I think I might hold out until his birthday,” you started, and the woman in front of you pouted dramatically. “It’s not that far out, it’s the beginning of next month.”

“Girl, that’s only three weeks away! What were you gonna do if I couldn’t find it? Cause I know he already has-” You cut her off as you cleared your throat, making wide eyes to insinuate discussing it in the store was less than ideal. She nodded slowly as she understood, shifting gears. “Well, when you decide to hand it over let me know what he thinks, how he responds. Anything he does in return…” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows playfully.

You rolled your eyes as you parted ways, wandering towards the back of the shop where you suspected your companion would be hiding. Sure enough, you found Bucky in the fantasy section with his nose in a book, thinner than he usually picked out, and not too far away from his favorite Tolkien classics. He looked up at you as you quietly approached, and you loved the smile that finally graced his face.

“Did you take care of business? Or did Patty talk your ear off?” he teased, and you hummed in amusement as you made the last few steps to close the distance between the two of you.

“Both, if you can believe it.” He cocked his eyebrow up at you in question, opening his arms to let you slip yours around his middle and pull him close, his free hand settling around your waist. “Find something good?” you asked, nodding towards the book in his hand to distract him from any further questions.

“I- Yeah, I thought it was interesting. Here, look,” he explained, bringing the open book in his left hand up to your eye level so you could look at the pages he held it open to.

What you weren’t expecting was for his face to suddenly be so close to yours, tilting it in just a way that turned you back towards him so he could slot his lips against yours. His tongue kept teasing your bottom lip with each kiss, and though it wasn’t a direct request for entrance, you were sure he’d take advantage of it if you made it available to him.

The hand on your waist trailed up your back before he held the side of your neck, keeping your face that much closer to his as he adored you. It wasn’t until he pressed his forehead to yours and kept his lips away long enough for your thoughts to return that you remembered where you were – tucked in the back of a bookshop, making out behind the cover of an open book. Like you were teenagers.

“What are you doing?” you whispered through a giggle while you had the distraction, though he didn't answer until he’d kissed you soft and languid one… two… three more times.

“Shhh, I wanted to kiss you, but I don’t wanna get yelled at,” he answered just as quietly, eyes darting towards the book in his hands to illustrate his point. He began kissing you through your laughter, but couldn’t quite get what he wanted when your upturned lips kept interrupting. “Doll, you’re gonna get us caught. These pages aren’t soundproof.”

“Are you gonna do this in every store today?” you managed through his barrage, though you instantly regretted it when he froze, contemplating your question.

“That wasn’t my plan, but I will now.” Now you’ve inspired trouble, great.

“You’re a menace,” you shot, though it wasn’t very convincing when your cheeks hurt with your smile, and he let you know how much he believed it by continuing to kiss your cheek.

…

Bucky made good on his promise. In the record store, he wrapped himself around you, chin on your shoulder when he wasn’t placing gentle kisses up and down your neck. He refused to let you go until you agreed to buy the Harry James Orchestra album you’d been trying to find for ages, his nose buried in the crook of your neck and his hands tickling your sides until you caved. He had groaned when you dragged him into the boutique to get more perfume, and then found a dress he was adamant that you try on, silencing your arguments by attaching his lips to yours. And he couldn’t have been more smug than when he’d placed the two items on the counter and bought both of them for you.

“Stick the super-soldier with all the bags, I see how it is,” he teased as you climbed the stairs to your floor, hovering around you as you reached into your purse for your key.

“That’s what you get for buying me a dress I didn’t need,” you shot back, opening the door and letting him step inside.

“The look on your face when you stepped out of that dressing room said otherwise.” You scoffed at him as you tried not to smile – trying to at least look like you didn’t approve of his actions – glad that he couldn’t see you while he deposited your bags onto the couch.

It was a beautiful dress. The dark blue color looked elegant and hugged your body perfectly, accentuating every curve and framing your figure wonderfully. The skirt was light and airy, billowing with each slight twist and turn of your hips. You could only imagine what it would look like when Bucky threw you around the dancefloor… Your cheeks hurt with the smile you couldn’t get rid of when you watched yourself in the mirror, absolutely in love with it the moment it touched your skin.

But it didn’t compare to the look on Bucky’s face when you had stepped out, his eyes immediately drawn to the way the skirt danced around you as you approached him. They traveled up your body, and you didn’t miss the way he shamelessly took in the neckline, before finding you with your lip between your teeth in anticipation.

You look beautiful, he had said, the wistfulness in his voice making you weak. And with the way those baby blues looked at you? You felt beautiful.

“But it was expensive! I don’t buy many dresses there for that reason,” you tried arguing. There was no sympathy on his face as he looked at you and slowly made his way closer. “You get a government stipend to cover rent and-”

“And I covered it this month,” he assured, but before you could continue your argument he took your face in his hands and held you close, his body pressed into yours. “I’m a big boy, grew up in the depression, I know how to manage my money. Let me buy pretty things for my girl.”

Damn him, he knew you always melted when he called you his girl. And he took full advantage of it, his face breaking into a boyish grin when you turned to putty in his hands, leaning in to kiss you languidly – not making it any easier to stand your ground.

“You can’t kiss your way out of every argument, Barnes,” you tried, and he just chuckled under his breath.

“Why don’t you put that new record on while I start dinner?” he offered softly, lingering to press kisses across your cheeks and up to your temple.

“Are you ignoring what I just said?” You laughed, and when you received a hum in confirmation, you only laughed harder.

“Here, I’ll put your purse up so you can-”

“No!” You quickly cut him off as he reached for your bag, lacking subtlety in your attempts to keep him from finding out something was hidden there. “I was gonna take it to my room and empty some things out of it… No use lugging around stuff I don’t need,” you recovered, and you could tell he wasn’t completely convinced, but thankfully he let it slide.

You were able to conceal the book-sized package into your nightstand for safe keeping without any more blunders, coming back out to find Bucky at work in the kitchen while the first of your five-disc box set was crackling through the speaker. You wasted no time wrapping your arms around him, feeling his amusement rumble through his back as you snuggled up to him.

“Are you gonna be my taste-tester this time?”

“If you promise not to feed me more stuff Steve liked.” One of his hands rested over yours as he laughed from deep in his belly. “I’m serious James, I think his list of ailments affected his taste buds.”

“I won’t, I promise. This is my mom’s recipe.”

“I have never loved your mother more than I do right now.” One more content hum came from the muscular man in front of you before he turned to wrap an arm around your shoulders. Your arms slipped from his waist and he waited for you to be ready before gripping your hips, hoisting you onto the counter beside him like you didn’t weigh a thing. You found in the past few weeks that he liked you there while he was cooking, keeping you close to lift the occasional spoon to your lips for your opinion, or –more recently– to steal kisses in the few moments his hands weren’t busy.

Later in the evening after plates had been served, the second and third records had been played through – and the dishes in the sink were piled high– the two of you continued to sit at the table, talking as if the rest of the world had faded away. Even as bellies filled, plates were cleared, and Bucky had finished the last of the beers he’d stashed in your fridge.

“It’s still so strange to me that those have no effect on you,” you’d muttered at one point, watching him open the last bottle of who knows how many. Well, Bucky probably did, but you had stopped counting. “Months later and I still have that passing thought, he can really hold his liquor.” The two of you shared a laugh, though he paused a moment as he swirled the bottle for a few moments.

“It was weird to get used to. I remember Steve…” He spared a quick glance at you as he contemplated his words, and your stomach flopped in anticipation. “Well, he told me he’d figured it out right after he thought I was gone. Tried to drink himself stupid… and then he couldn’t.”

Your heart dropped. You hadn’t really talked a lot about… the accident. The last thing on your mind was what Steve had to have gone through. You might have had your grudges with the former Captain, but your heart panged with remorse at the idea of him mourning so viciously for Bucky.

He must have been able to see your emotions on your face, quickly trying to lighten the mood.

“That’s good news for you though, I’ll never break down your door in a drunken stupor,” he smiled, and you tried to reciprocate.

“Oh good, I was super worried about that,” you snarked, earning a smile as he took a swig of his beer.

Something nagged you in the back of your mind to keep the conversation going. You were feeling soft, wanting him to open up a little more about his best friend; maybe it would help ease your bitterness towards him for what he did to-

Nope. You weren’t going to think about it.

“Speaking of weird adjustments… was it weird when you found out Steve had gotten so…” For lack of better words, you squared up your shoulders and held your arms out, glad that he laughed at your impression.

“It was! I mean, it doesn’t help that the first time I saw him I was only half-conscious. Thought it was an effect of whatever Hydra was pumping into me.” He was trying to be comical, but your stomach tied itself in a knot at his passive admission. And of course, he read you like a book, shifting focus to something lighter. “This big man with Steve’s face, it was weird. But there he was in all his glory, dumb ideas with a body to support them.”

“Stupid ideas?”

“The worst. Like jumping over pits of fire, and setting a bunch of soldiers loose to wreak havoc on a Nazi facility. At least when he was small I could stop him,” Bucky explained exasperatedly, as he often did when it came to Steve, and you chuckled a little at the thought. “I think the worst part of it was when he was stealing the girls’ attention at the bars.”

“Did you get butthurt being left in the dust?” you mocked, fully expecting him to retaliate. He shot you a glare, and you burst out laughing.

“It only happened one damn time. Carter had to have been in on it, 'cause she acted like I wasn’t even there,” he grumbled, and you only raised your eyebrows at him with a growing grin, amused by this piece of their history. “It was good to see him so happy though… he was finally able to be the person he wanted to be. Enjoying things he hadn’t gotten to.”

“Even in the middle of a war?”

“Especially in a war. He was able to do things, he could help where he felt he could make the most difference.” That was why he and Steve had been such good friends. It was no secret that the late Captain was a good man, but you certainly needed the reminder of what exactly had set him apart. “He enjoyed making battle plans and then being part of the group when all the guys got a drink. He liked throwing the shield around like a frisbee, seeing who could keep up with him.” You giggled at the thought, imagining their rowdy group of Army soldiers knocking each other over with the iconic shield.

The shield that was now in a glass case at the museum.

You looked up at Bucky to find his eyes had shifted down to his lap, fiddling with his half empty bottle as the same realization occurred to him. You were supposed to be distracting him…

“Back then, it might have been Cap’s icon, but it wasn’t just his. Steve made sure of that. All the guys tried their hand at throwing it around, picked it up when they needed to in the heat of the moment…” You watched him so closely, hoping desperately that a smile would appear on his face as he recounted the events.

“That shield was… it felt like family.”

You heard what he didn’t say. That it felt like he’d lost his family all over again, that he’d lost what was close to him too many times to count. That he was tired of it.

“Alright, c’mere.” you started, standing from the table to offer him your hand. He looked up at you for a moment with wide blue eyes, confusion written all over his face. “I have something for you.”

“You- why?”

“Just come here,” you pleaded, pretending to be exasperated even though it contrasted the feeling you got when he chuckled at your behavior. He shot down the rest of his beer and put his hand in yours, his amusement continuing when you damn near pulled him out of the chair.

You crossed the threshold into your bedroom, releasing his hand and patting the mattress to signal ‘sit down.’ With no further words from you, he raised an eyebrow at you and put his hands on his hips.

“Well if this is what you wanted, you could have just asked,” he teased, wiggling his brows and pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. You rolled your eyes and turned away from him, giggling as you walked towards your nightstand, hiding the way his comment made your face heat up.

You continued this silent game, turning back around to face him with the small package held behind your back. When he still wasn’t on the bed you decided to tempt him, maneuvering yourself to kneel on top of it, putting you at eye level with the super soldier.

“Are you having fun?” He shot, though the way his eyes raked over you made you shiver.

“I have something for you.”

“I heard. Are you gonna give it to me?” He asked, his voice low and smooth.

“Come get it,” you challenged innocently, the package still tucked behind your back. He cocked a brow at you and donned a devious grin, and you had half a mind to wonder if he was playing the same game you were before he was crawling onto the bed to get in your space.

Kneeled in front of you, towering over you once again, you realized this was not the same game.

His hands were gentle as his fingers brushed across the side of your face before slipping them back as he held your neck, pulling you flush to his body as you continued looking up at his blue eyes. It was getting harder to keep your focus… A vibranium thumb rubbed gentle circles on your jaw while his other hand continued to trail downward, caressing your arm, your sides, toying with the hem of your shirt before sliding lower to find your hands. He brushed against the brown paper packaging, and you felt his surprise before you saw it, feeling the game shift.

“You really do have something in your hands… what did you get me?” He smiled as his brow shot up again, clearly confused by the events that had just occurred. You laughed as you let him bring the gift between you, eyeing it curiously. “Why does it have your name on it?”

“Patty saved it for me. That’s why I had to go into the shop today,” you explained softly, watching him with great interest. With his hand still on your neck, you leaned back to lay against the pillows, but as he regained his balance he caught you before you could drag him down on top of you. Instead, he sat back against the pillows with you cuddled up next to him. You urged him to open it, and your stomach was full of butterflies as you waited for him to open what was supposed to be his birthday present.

You almost couldn’t watch as the wrapping came away neatly to reveal the simple pale green cover, the corners slightly frayed and yellowed with age. You were pleased to find the detailing hadn’t faded on the cover – not having been able to justify the price of a copy that still had its dust cover – the ink still legible where ‘The Hobbit’ was written in blue. Deciding to sneak a glance at his face, you caught his furrowed brow in tandem with the growing grin on his face.

“This is sweet, doll, but I’m a little lost… you know I have a copy, you were there when I bought it,” he admitted, turning the book over to seek out any further answer.

“Take a look inside,” you urged quietly, bursting with anticipation. He delicately opened the cover, finding an illustrated depiction of ‘Hobbiton over the Water’ on the left, and the title page on the right.

The Hobbit: Or, There and Back Again, by J. R. R. Tolkien.

Boston and New York, Houghton Mifflin Company, 1938.

You knew when his eyes hovered over the line printed on the very bottom of the page, because he sat a little farther forward with a jolt. But he didn’t say anything, instead looking back down at you as if to ask if he’d read that right.

“It’s a first edition, from when they printed in the States,” you explained simply, your cheeks beginning to hurt with the force of your smile.

“I- doll,” he started, unsure where he was going with it.

“Go on, look at chapter five.” This was the whole reason you knew to buy the book in the first place; that was Gollum’s part of the story, but this time it would be the way he remembered it.

The excitement painted on his face made you want to frame it on your wall to remember forever.

You laughed when he wiggled his body down to lay closer to yours, and you wasted no time wrapping your arms around his bicep and laying your head by his shoulder as he flipped to the chapter you requested.

And to your pleasant surprise, he began reading to you. Well, as best as he could, he was giving you intermittent explanations where your memory evaded you, and smiling to himself as he took a trip down memory lane. There wasn’t anything spectacular about the way he read out loud to you, but it was real, human, it was Bucky, and it was your favorite audiobook.

As he reached the end of the chapter, he paused for a moment, eyes darting across the pages as he took a moment to come back to himself.

“Thank you, Doll,” he offered softly, turning his head to look at you, his eyes just a little more blue than they had been when he’d started reading.

“Thank you. There’s not a lot of people who have read this version of the story, and now I get to be one of them,” you said playfully, and as it came off of your lips you realized how impressive that was. Admittedly, it was kind of exciting. “First editions aren’t easy to come by, apparently, so this is kinda cool.” He smiled as you giggled, but there was something hesitant in his expression.

“How… how much did this cost you?” He asked, his brows speaking nothing but concern.

“It’s not important.”

“Peach, please tell me you didn’t spend a lot of money on me, I don’t-” He started, but you were quick to cut him off.

“I spent exactly as much as I wanted to!” You exclaimed, stubborn as the two of you often were, and pleased with yourself in spite of his worries. “I’m a big girl, Buck, I’ve got a big girl job… I know how to manage my money,” you retorted with a wink, shooting your version of his words from earlier right back at him. He only rolled his eyes at you.

“Now I’m definitely glad I bought you the dress,” he grumbled, closing the book gently as you laughed, and reaching over the top of you to place it on the nightstand. On his way back he caught your waist, putting you on top of him as he rolled onto his back. He closed his eyes with a smile to keep toying with you, and you simply crossed your arms over his chest and rested your chin on your hands to watch him.

Bucky laid silently for a few moments, the only sign of him being awake was the absentminded patterns he was tracing into the small of your back. He looked peaceful. As if to punctuate his thoughts, he took a deep breath and released it easily, relaxed as he laid out on your bed.

“Fallin asleep on me, old man?” You whispered quietly, and he cocked a brow at you.

“If I was tired, I might be,” he teased, though your interest was piqued. “Your bed is surprisingly comfortable. I understand why you’re in it all the time.” He said nothing besides the subtle jab, which you poked him in the ribs for, but you took his admission and kept it in your back pocket.

…

“Doll, come dance with me,” he whined, pouting at you from the living room. After giving him the book and having a quiet moment until the music in the living room stopped playing, you were still left with the dishes in the sink; he cooked, so you cleaned, and you traded every other night. It was a nice routine, you certainly liked having a man cook for you, enjoyed the domesticity of it…

“I can’t yet, I have to clean up your mess.” The damn dishes always ruined the fun. Bucky seemed to agree, groaning as he stepped away from your record player, having just turned over the fourth Harry James vinyl to something that sounded like a serenade. He always had a hard time resisting dancing to those with you, and at some point he stopped trying to reserve himself, slow dancing together quickly becoming second nature.

“Come on, it’ll be quick! You’ll be back in the suds in two seconds.”

“You and I both know that’s not true,” you laughed, reloading your weapon to scrub down the next victim. “It’s gonna start with one dance and then you’ll beg me for another one, the third song will be your favorite, and the next thing I know I’ve forgotten about dishes but I’ll still have to do them.” You heard him chuckling softly as he entered the kitchen.

“You’ve certainly got me down to a pattern,” he sighed, and you were about to open your mouth to spout off a retort when his hands slipped around your waist, bringing his chest flush to your back. One hand came to rest just under your sternum – toying with the line between innocent and not – while the other circled around you. Then smiling lips brushed across your neck, his nose tickling the underside of your earlobe.

“James-”

“Dance with me,” he whispered, punctuated with a kiss to your sweet spot. Your hands had stopped working, and your body was starting to melt in his grasp. Damn him. “Please, sweetheart. I’ll do the dishes later, I promise. Just come dance with me.”

How were you supposed to say no to that? To James Barnes practically begging to hold you close and forget about the world around you… You couldn’t.

“Just one dance…” You tried to sound stern, but you both knew it was a lie. You would let him throw you around the room until the sun came back up if that’s what he wanted.

Pleased with his success, he placed another kiss on your neck before spinning you in his arms, not bothering to lead you into the living room to get what he was after. He guided you to rest your arms around his neck as you began to sway back and forth, his hands gliding down the sides of your body until they found their home at your hips.

The serenade that had gotten Bucky so antsy faded out slowly, and the familiar trumpeted introduction to It’s Been A Long, Long Time crackled through your speakers. You couldn’t help the gasp that came out of you as you recognized the song, the one that made you so eager to get your hands on the album in the first place. Your partner took notice.

"You know this one?"

"I love this one,” you sighed, delighted when you felt him pull you impossibly closer.

“Y’know, I used to have this trick on the dancefloor with the girls back in my day,” he admitted, his smiling gaze never leaving yours.

“Oh really?” You asked with exaggerated, flirtatious interest. “Well big talker, you’re gonna have to show me your moves.”

“I was planning on it.” His voice had dropped to that deep, smooth baritone he’d used earlier before you gave him the book. The conviction on his face as he held your gaze sent a shiver down your spine. The vocalist began after the opening band, but the words you knew by heart were hitting you as if you were hearing them for the first time.

Kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again…

In time with the song, Bucky ducked his head and kissed you once at your temple, kissed you twice on the apple of your cheek, and kissed you once again just above your jawline, reducing you to flustered giggles as the music carried on.

“What’d you think, sweets?” He asked quietly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him in fear of combusting.

“Does this make me one of the girls who fell for your trick?” you asked dreamily, your voice coming out airy. His chest rumbled with laughter as it was pressed to yours, and you could feel yourself getting lighter.

“You’re the only girl that matters.” He rested his forehead against yours, your noses brushing as he got closer.

“Good.”

Kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again…

The second iteration of the classic line came through, and his lips were connected to yours once, twice… and then you couldn’t stop. As the trumpets came back in full force, Bucky kissed you as if he’d been starved of you for days.

Your arms gripped him tighter and you became vaguely aware of the way he had stopped swaying you, your hands in his hair, and his tongue teasing your lips. Your body felt electric, buzzing with warm anticipation as your hands explored each other, and he kissed you even deeper as you let him in, his tongue exploring your mouth with a fierce reverence that made your head spin.

You were moving again, but not to the music that was playing around you, Bucky gripping you tight and walking you back through the kitchen. You let out a pathetic whimper when your back hit the counter, and he grunted in retaliation. You were ready to climb him like a tree to keep going, and he clearly got the message when your hands began wandering. His strong arms hoisted you up onto the counter, the kiss only getting hungrier as his hands drifted down to your ass.

Your need to breathe was a background thought as you opened your legs wide enough to let him in, pulling him closer to feel him against you. But when his hips met yours, neither of you could hide the way it felt, breaking the kiss in a chorus of moans.

“James…” you heard yourself whine, and he quickly attached himself to your neck as he groaned into you, the vibrations of his deep voice making you dizzy.

“Never thought I could feel so crazy about someone,” he rasped, speaking with an urgency as he continued his mission of pressing his lips to every corner of you his mouth could reach. You could only manage soft, short gasps of air as he adored you, scraping your hands up his back and tousling the short hair on the back of his head. “Baby, I can’t focus when I’m with you, you just..”

Whatever he was going to say was lost to his memory as he grabbed your face in one hand and kissed your lips once again. He was hungry, desperate, ravaged as he kissed you, needing as much of you as you did him. You couldn’t help yourself, going wild with his hips pressed up against your center doing nothing, and you were rewarded with delicious sounds when you rolled your hips. Everything was moving so dizzyingly fast and you loved every sound, every grind of his hips against yours, every touch of his hands on your needy body…

And then your phone rang.

At first you were going to ignore it, making no move to detach your lips from his as you fumbled your way to remove the offending device. Bucky was more easily distracted, swiftly fetching it from your back pocket and removing his lips from yours for half a second to look at who was interrupting your moment, River’s name appearing on the screen.

“You wanna take that?” He asked distractedly as the phone continued to ring in his hand, hooded eyes still locked on your swollen lips.

“No, I’m busy,” you argued, leaning forward to kiss his pretty lips, but he only gave you pecks in return. When you leaned back to look at him, the corners of his lips were tilted up and he still held the phone up for you. “She’ll be fine, I will not.”

He chuckled, leaning closer to hold you but still hesitant. When the phone stopped ringing, you shot your eyebrows up as if to say ‘See? She’s fine,’ and he resigned. He let you pull him closer, setting your phone down on the counter before bracing himself there, letting you kiss him silly.

Until it rang again.

He broke the kiss with a growing smile, and you groaned in irritation. What the hell did she want?

“I think you should take that,” he whispered against your lips, giving you a quick peck before migrating down to the hollow of your neck, your hand still tangled in his hair and his gliding back around you. That would have to do for now. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, his chuckle rumbling through your throat as you grabbed your phone and answered without your usual chipper.

“Where are you guys?” She asked, seemingly taking no notice of your less than friendly greeting.

“At home? Why?”

“We’re all at Morelli’s!” Shit… It was Saturday night. You felt a wandering smile somewhere at the base of your neck as Bucky listened in, realization dawning on the both of you. “You guys are never late, we wanted to see if you were still comin?”

“I- we completely forgot, we’re uh… we’re just finishing up with dinner.” That wasn’t your best work. You’ve delivered flat-out lies better than that mostly true statement. To be fair, you were a little worked up, and were still getting kisses trailed across your skin.

“Dinner, huh?” She asked suggestively, and you were too distracted to be annoyed as you watched vibranium fingers trail up your body.

“We have dinner together all the time, I don’t know what you’re getting at.” Bucky glanced back up at you with a mischievous sparkle in his eye, and you were on edge with anticipation.

“Sure, but… so distracted by dinner you guys forgot about dancing?”

Before you could retort, you felt Bucky start to suck on a patch of skin on your chest, just beneath the neckline of your shirt which he’d pulled out of the way for easier access. You did your best to keep your reaction to a few quiet gasps of air as he worked, your mouth in a prolonged ‘o’ as he no doubt left a mark.

“Your continued silence is telling… is James nearby?” Your gasp was much more audible this time as he gently nipped at you, laving over your new hickey with his tongue.

“He’s calling me from the other room, actually, I gotta go. Say hi to everyone for us,” you managed, not waiting for her response before you hung up the phone and tossed it on the counter and as far away from you as possible. The man in question simply chuckled against you, pressing one more kiss to your chest before fixing your shirt and standing back up to his full height.

“Is River onto us?” He asked playfully, addressing the suggestive comments from your friend, and the fun you both seemed to be having by not telling any of your dancing group that something was going on between the two of you.

“That girl picks up on more than I’ll ever even know,” you started, cut off by a yawn that came out of nowhere, your body finally realizing how tired it was after the… events of the day. Bucky brought one hand up to cup your cheek, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb as you leaned into his touch. “She won’t say a word of it to anyone else though. Doesn’t think it’s her place.”

“I kinda had a feeling,” he said softly, pressing a soft kiss to your hairline. “Why don’t I head out, sweets? One of us ought to get some sleep tonight.”

“I hate when you say stuff like that,” you whispered, closing your eyes as he held your face in his hands, heart aching the way it always did when he brought it up. “Stay with me tonight.”

You risked a glance, opening your eyes to find him in the midst of an internal battle, not wanting to tell you ‘no’ but fearful of what would happen if he agreed.

“Baby, I…” He faltered, trying to find the right words to help you understand, but you were determined not to let him leave.

“You always say your bed is too soft, but you looked so comfortable earlier when you read to me,” you started, breaking through to the war he kept hidden behind his eyes every time you asked him to stay.

“I always feel like… like it’s going to swallow me whole. Your bed was more firm, more stable. But I laid there for twenty minutes, that doesn’t mean I’d last the night,” he rambled.

“Who’s to say you won’t?”

“I have nightmares,” he said bluntly; the next argument. “If I can manage to get to sleep for a decent amount of time, the nightmares will start. What if I hurt you? I couldn’t forgive myself if...” He was looking at you as if he was pleading for you to hear him, to make you understand that you were too important for him to lose like this.

“Do you move around in your sleep?” you tried gently. Now it was your turn to hold him, hands trailing to sit on his chest, rubbing soothing patterns there. He thought for a moment before shaking his head ever so slightly. “Then I’ll be okay.”

“I just … what if it doesn’t work? What if I can’t do it?” he said quietly, and your heart broke when something sounding so small and broken came out of your big, strong super-soldier.

“Then we’ll move to the couch. We’ve done that before, you were just fine,” you explained softly, adding after a moment’s hesitation; “You know I’ll always catch you.”

You watched him with bated breath as he processed your words, wanting nothing more than to get in there and fight his doubts yourself. But all you could do was wait, providing him comforting touches, and hoping he could see your side.

“Okay.” It was quiet, but it was there.

“Really?”

“I can’t promise anything, but… but I can try.” In favor of trying to find the right words, you leaned up to give him a sweet kiss, and you could tell he was trying to ease his nerves as he kissed you back.

“You wanna go grab something to change into?” You offered sweetly. The biggest battle had been won, know you were going to make sure you attended to each and every one of his needs to make it as smooth as possible.

“I will in a minute. I’ve got dishes to do first.” You couldn’t help the giggle that passed your lips, pleased that it had at least put a small grin on his face.

“You don’t have to do that, I’ll do them while you get settled.”

“I made you a promise, I can’t be backing out on those this early on,” he teased, making you laugh once more. That seemed to be his fallback, that making you laugh made it easier for him to convince himself everything would be okay. “Go get yourself ready for bed while I take care of the dishes.” With a kiss on the cheek, he helped you down from the counter, giving a gentle smack to your rear as he sent you off.

…

Bucky watched the shield bounce off of the two trees before he caught it, taking a second to stabilize himself with the force of its momentum, and throwing it back in the direction it came. Steve caught it with a little more grace, and it was a sight he was still getting used to.

“So, you and Carter, huh?” He snarked, but when the blonde threw the shield again, it hit him with a little more force than the last.

“Don’t even start,” Steve shot, sending him a glare he’d gotten all through their youth. Even on a much taller, stronger body, it still had a sense of familiarity. Thank god for that… with so much changing around him, the state of the war, and everything that came to bring Steve to the front lines, Bucky was thankful his best friend was still in there.

“Did’ya tell her how tiny you used to be before you were Captain America?” He threw the star-spangled frisbee a little harder this time, glad to see his friend needing to adjust for half a second when he caught it. A small victory, but he’d take what he could get.

“Why would I? She was there when they did the experiment.”

“I’m sorry, what?” He caught the shield again but held onto it as he continued their conversation. “She saw you when you were… you, and still gave you those big doe eyes in the bar?” Steve’s ears turned red, and he knew his friend was doomed.

“She didn’t… well, I… Geez, Buck, I don’t know.” James laughed as he threw back the shield, giving him something else to focus on. Girls had never been Steve’s strong suit, and he knew he was going to have to do something to help before he blew his chance. “I just know that after being… myself in Brooklyn, for whatever reason she still gives me the time of day.”

“That’s good. Means she actually likes you.” Steve rolled his eyes as he held onto the shield, and it took Bucky a second to get used to him looking so sturdy. “I won’t let you blow your shot, alright? I’m with you till the end of the line.”

Steve smiled at him before winding up to throw the shield again… but not at the trees. Suddenly he was farther away, and they were somewhere Bucky didn’t recognize. It was dark, it was cold, and Steve was throwing it right at him. His instincts were faster than he anticipated, catching it with both hands…

One of those hands was his. The other one was silver…

Oh no. No no no…

Bucky wasn’t in control of his own body when he sent the shield flying back towards Steve, and retreating before he could see whether his old friend has caught it or not. He was filled with an overwhelming amount of fear, confused and disoriented. He couldn’t go back to Hydra. He had to get out, he had to-

He only saw black. The back of his eyelids.

There was a pair of arms around his waist, a warm cheek pressed up against the middle of his back. You.

He opened his eyes to find himself in your room, your bed, remembering having crawled in next to you a few hours ago. He had changed into a pair of sweatpants, gotten in on the side of the bed you deemed would be his, talking and giggling with each other like teenagers until you fell asleep. He became aware of his own body, his breathing heavy, and sweat starting to form on his forehead.

Looking down he saw his two hands – one that was his, the other black and gold – resting over yours, and he began rubbing circles into your skin to soothe you. Or was it to soothe him?

“Are you okay?” You whispered, your voice still sleepy, laced with concern. He nodded gently, taking a minute to steady himself.

“Didn’t mean to wake you, 'm sorry,” he said softly, and he felt you take a deep breath.

“I promised I’d always catch you. I meant it.” He felt you press a featherlight kiss to his back, and his heart skipped.

The need to feel you closer to him was now greater than any other feeling in his body, and he made to shift in your arms, moving until he could wrap himself around you and press you into his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and let himself breathe again.

“Are you okay here?” you asked, as he ran his fingertips down your spine, relishing in everything that was you.

“I’m okay… just stay here with me,” he pleaded, placing another kiss on your head, unable to stop himself from showering you in sleepy affection.

“I’m with you,” you yawned, and when you cuddled closer into him, he was able to close his eyes and relax back into your pillows.

Till the end of the line.

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Masterlist | Ch. 9 | Ch. 11

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aemonds-sapphire · 3 years

Text

Caution: Slippery When Wet — Dabi x Reader (Smut)

Summary: Dabi just wanted to take a shower, and he didn’t care that you were in the way.

Warnings: NSFW. Orgasm denial. Overstimulation. Vaginal fingering. Quirkplay. Unprotected sex. Praise. Creampie.

Word count: 3.6k

A sudden loud bang snapped you out of your steam-induced daydream and had your heart skip a few beats in distress.

“What?!” you gnarled, eyes gazing through the foggy shower door only to be met with a pair of turquoise eyes.

Dabi.

“You done in there or what?”

Panic filled your entire body at once. “Get the fuck out!”

Any indication that you might be blessed with a peaceful shower session soon flew out the window as the young villain showed no intention of budging.

Thoughts on Dabi? You’d rather not have any. And not because you loathed him. Far from that Your body made sure that the most hostile emotion you had towards him was unquestionable sexual tension. Therefore, you really, really needed to train your mind not to fixate on him or the possibilities that might come from any interaction with him. In order to cope with this, you tried your best to mask your genuine feelings with resentment.

On the off chance your paths crossed while living together with the rest of the league, you always had your mind set on antagonizing him. You dreaded the possibility of anyone figuring out that — albeit buried deep within you —, you craved him.

“Not happening. I need a shower.”

Sliding the glass door, you peaked your head through the narrow slit only to be met with Dabi covered in... slime? From his dark hair all the way down to his boots.

“What is that awful smell?” you grimaced as the foul stench filled your nose.

“Collateral damage,” he said with a blank expression, eyes on yours. “You can thank Toga for that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Go wait outside. I’m almost done here.”

No answer.

“Out!” Yyou half-yelled, feeling heat creep through your cheeks, thoroughly glad that the fog glazing the shower door kept most of your body hidden from his gaze.

No answer yet again.

“Dabi!”

He shrugged and proceeded to remove his knee-length coat showing no concern that you were intensely staring at him, mouth agape in shock.

His filthy shirt went off next, revealing the uneven edges of his staple-covered skin across his upper chest. Your heart was racing at double speed and all your brain could conjure was that you most definitely should not allow your eyes to roam across his body like that. Dabi was too fucking hot — pun fully intended— for his own good, and suspected he knew that

That proved to be enough to snap you out of your trance. “Why are you taking your clothes off?!” Yyou blurted out, failing to realize how ridiculous that sounded given the context.

Dabi paused briefly as he was about to undo his belt. “Not showering with my clothes on... the fuck?” he remarked, arching a brow and glaring at you like you’d grown a third arm.

Panic hit you instantly. “Uh—Just wait!”

His slender fingers unbuckled the belt swiftly. “Doll, you’re wasting time. All that rambling and staring... could be done already.”

He was not wrong.

It suddenly dawned on you how easily he’d always manage to crawl under your skin. Whether he knew the effect he had on you or not, it remained unclear. But something inside you clung to the idea that, whatever it was that you felt for Dabi, it was somehow reciprocated.

Patches of suds began trailing down your temples and forehead, causing further distress.

“Just...” your voice trailed off, but sudden outrage burst from within you. “Don’t you have some decency?”

“No.”

He had managed to strip all of his clothes off until he was only left in his underwear, and he was about to—

“No! No fucking way!” you shrieked in dread, quickly having to wipe a few suds that were stinging your eyes. “Leave it—“

But before you could mouth further protests, you saw him yank his underwear down, which caused your eyes to reflexively close tightly.

A low chuckle was heard. “Calm down, princess. I won’t even look. Just wanna rinse off this slime.”

You were positively mortified from all this mess, and a large part of you cheered in pride as you managed to kept your feelings towards him out of the way.

For now, at least.

Immediately, you withdrew your head from the rack, and shoved the shower door shut, with one hand keeping it in place while the other reached out to grab a bottle from the corner shelf.

Dabi tugged at the door a few times before sighing. “Seriously? You gonna throw a... bottle of shampoo at me?” he drawled out, a slight hint of amusement taintIng his voice. “Terrifying. I can see why Shigaraki scouted you,” he added in blatant mockery.

The sudden confrontation had you wish some random hole in the ground would prop open and swallow you whole, effectively putting an end to this.

Your eyes flew open at once and you glared at the bottle in your hand that read: ‘Strawberry passion — let your senses be filled with bliss and calmness’. Now that was fucking ironic.

Another tug.

“Don’t make me burn this shit down.”

You scoffed. “You keep your eyes fucking shut, then. Not even a peak.”

“Sure, doll.”

Admitting defeat, you scooted to the corner of the stall, your back facing him as you heard the door slide open. You felt him brush past you, but managed to keep your composure. There was no point in stressing about this. Dabi was merely your... colleague? Coworker? Fellow... villain? It came with the territory, right?

You grasped the shower head and raised your arm to have warm water pour down on you. For a brief moment, you were able to ignore the man behind you, and just kept on rinsing as fat as you could to terminate this awkward situation.

Just a few more seconds...

But, of course, life seldom went as planned.

“Sharing is caring, doll,” his low voice rumbled, and you felt his breath fanning the nape of your neck, causing you to jolt.

The sudden proximity sent your brain into overdrive. Every single hair in your body stirred as goosebumps spread from the shiver running down your spine. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt his hand wrap around yours.

You tried to muster a few words, but the overwhelming sensation of having someone you felt so attracted to being so close to you, definitely proved to be a harder task than you’d imagined.

“Eyes shut...” you managed to mumble as a reminder, feeling the curtain of water shift to your back and ultimately leaving your body entirely.

Dabi let out a sigh of relief. “Fuck... this feels good.”

His choice of words had heat spread across you like wildfire. Unfortunately, the sudden loss of a heat source had your body quivering in an attempt to keep your temperature from dropping. You wrapped your arms across your chest out of reflex, but it did little to help.

That din’t go unnoticed by the young villain. “You cold?”

“Ju-just... hurry up...” you said between teetering teeth.

Silence fell between you two before you heard vague splashes of water. “I can warm you up.”

He was close to you once more. Too close. Close enough that you could feel his hot breath near your ear, and something else nudging at your backside.

Your head turned to glare at his half-hooded eyes. “No, thank you...”

His lips were dangerously close to yours, and from that angle you could see the way the metallic hoops on each side of his face strained but a little when he drew a faint grin.

“You sure you don’t want me to fuck you?”

That gave you a whiplash.

As soon a those words left his mouth, you gasped in confusion. “What?!”

But there was nothing to be confused about. It was a rhetorical question from him. You were suddenly aware that he knew. That he had been able to read your signs all along.

Dabi placed the shower head back in its holder, pressing his back fully against yours in the process.

That’s when you felt all of him.

From the hardened nipples to the cool edges of his staples, and all the way to his hard cock pressed against your ass. You shuddered under his touch, causing it to settle right in between your ass cheeks.

“Dabi...”

He bucked his hips lightly, his slippery cock gliding with ease as a deep growl ripped from him. Haziness swarmed your mind, and you pressed both hands on the cold tiles for support, welcoming the water that poured on you from the shower head.

“Say my name again...”

“Why...” you mewled back, swaying your hips sensually against him.

What the fuck...

This was probably a bad idea. You weren’t even sure how you allowed things escalate this quickly. Dabi could snap anyone in half if he felt like it; he could also incinerate anything just as easily. You supposed the dangers of meddling with someone this volatile added to the allure.

And he was aware of that fact.

He fed on it and used it to get you to surrender yourself to him.

“Say it,” he repeated his request, bringing both hands to grasp your hips.

Your eyes snapped open once he pressed a soft kiss on your neck.

“I hate you.”

You mentally slapped yourself for being so weak. Those words carried no weight whatsoever, and they only served to heave a taunting chuckle from him. Even though this entire situation had your face burning with heat, the rest of your body still struggled to keep your temperature up, causing you to shiver from time to time.

Dabi excelled at reading body language like no other. He took pride in being able to know someone’s true intention just from the way their body reacted to his presence. He was no stranger to the inner workings of women when it came to him; he knew precisely which strings to tug in order to get them to crave his touch.

You were no different.

In fact, you had completely and miserably failed at keeping your thirst for him at bay.

And with unprecedented expertise, Dabi had your body to bend to his will, granting you one of your deepest desires.

You felt his palms heat up against your skin.

“I... hate you...” your voice came out in a weak tremble.

Were you trying to convince him, or yourself?

His hands began sliding up your sides, leaving trails of warmth in their wake. You realized you were no longer quivering from loss of warmth; your shudders were stemmed from the way Dabi was slowly and carefully feeling you up. His heated hands moved to your breasts, and without any notice, he had both your nipples being rolled in between his fingers.

Instinctively, you bucked against him. “Fuck...”

Dabi let out a hiss in response. “Sure you hate me?”

He pinched your nipples lightly before grazing his staple-covered palms along the sensitive buds.

“Yes,” you blurted out firmly.

The metallic hoops spread across his palms teased you further.

But before your throbbing clit could welcome the new stimulus, he halted and the heat pooling on his fingertips quickly died down. “So you want me to stop.”

“No!” you protested as his hands abandoned your skin.

“Then what?” Dabi inquired, bringing one finger to trail down your spine, prompting your back to arch downwards and your ass to spring up invitingly. “All these mixed signals... tss.”

You managed to suppress a moan when you felt his slippery cock slide down to tease your entrance.

“Dabi...” you let out, trying to find a few words to say. “Eyes shut.”

He chuckled. “Doll... I have my cock pressed against your ass and leaking for you... does that even matter?”

Of course not. You weren’t even sure why you had said that... your mind was playing tricks on you.

Even so, you weren’t so lucky the second time around, and when he slapped your swollen clit with the tip, your mouth fell open in a strangled cry. You highly doubted the slick tiles would be able to support your body as he proceeded to place his cock in between your damp folds.

“Hold on tight, doll. I need to prep you for my cock first,” his voice dripped with lust. “Be a good girl and bend over.”

Your pussy clenched impulsively.

To say you were completely and ridiculously turned on was the understatement of the year. No amount of rationality would help you now. You were too far gone, and your desire for him clouded any shred of judgement in you.

There was no point in resisting him any longer.

You strongly held on to the shower faucet, in the hopes of it being enough to keep your knees from giving out on you from the overwhelming pleasure spreading across your clit.

He kept sliding his thick cock along your pussy lips coating it in your wetness. It was faintly embarrassing to think of how quickly you’d gotten soaked for him, but on the other hand, you couldn’t really blame yourself for it. Dabi was definitely a natural. You figured he had enough experience to get you all riled up in no time.

You felt him snake one arm around you as his hand travelled down to your pussy. In all honesty, you felt too empty. Even though you hadn’t seen his cock, you had felt it and you craved it more than his fingers at this point.

The palm of his hand brushed against your clit, earning an instant moan from him.

“Dabi... just... fuck me...” you panted in between groans as he teased you with the staples carved into his skin.

Those staples had long caught your attention, but you never thought in a million years that you’d find pleasure in having them brush against your most intimate parts.

His velvety voice came out in a low purr. “Patience... I need you soaked enough to take my cock.”

“I am!” you half-yelled, bucking your hips in an attempt to have his cock placed at your entrance.

The hand teasing your clit stopped abruptly. “Really? Lemme check, then,” just as soon as he whispered those words, he pulled back from you momentarily, pressed one hand on your lower back to have you at a desired angle, before shoving two long fingers inside your wet cunt.

It took all of you to hold back a guttural groan from echoing throughout the bathroom. You bit down on your lower lip, an you reckoned it wouldn’t take long to draw blood. He held you firmly in place with his free hand gripping your hip while he fucked you with his fingers.

“You’re not just soaked... you’re fucking drenched,” he said in bewilderment, curling his digits inside you. “Think you can take a third one?”

You felt another fingertip prodding at your entrance, but you could only nod. There was no way you were going to open your damn mouth. The implications of doing so were far too severe, and you dreaded the idea of anyone outside being able to hear you moan for Dabi.

His third finger struggled at first to join the others. “Tight... just part your legs, doll...”

Doing as he instructed, he finally managed to get the slender digit to slide all the way in, until he was buried in you knuckle-deep. You’d never felt this stretched out before, and the newfound sensation was enough to finally have you let go of your lip and have your mouth fall open in a sigh of pure bliss.

“Now that’s a good girl,” he praised you, while finger-fucking you at a steady rhythm. “You’re literally milking my fingers...”

From the way his voice was starting to emerge fully strained, you figured this was also taking a toll on him. Having your walls involuntarily clench around his moving fingers and hearing him occasionally growl from it, had your ego soar dangerously high. Your entire body was urging you to cum, and as despair overcame your senses, you hand one han settle between your legs to rub your needy clit.

Dabi suddenly stopped thrusting his fingers, and clicked his tongue. “Stop.”

Annoyance hit you hard from the loss of his stimulation. “Fuck!”

His hand grabbed yours. “Let me make you cum. Just me.”

As soon as your gripped the faucet again with both hands, Dabi jumpstarted his ministrations in order to help you reach your much desired high.

“Say my name.”

You truly didn’t want to do that. The fear of losing control and having your moans being heard, kept you from heeding his request once again.

But Dabi had a few tricks up his sleeve.

Both his index and middle fingers pressed against your clit, and you felt the fingertips starting to heat up. He was definitely using his quirk in order to help the heat in your lower belly to intensify. It was a neat trick coming from him, and it was most welcome as you felt the familiar coil of an upcoming orgasm build inside you with each passing second.

“Say. It.”

Obscene soppy sounds left your tight pussy as he showed no signs of faltering his pace. Your eyes fluttered shut and your mouth hung open as you tightened around him, preparing to let a peak of pleasure wash over your body.

“Fuck... fu-fuck... I...” you mumbled incoherently, not able to muster any comprehensible thoughts.

You were so close.

Your hips jolted into his hand, and just as you were about to cum, you felt sudden emptiness and were left clenching around nothing nothing.

“What the fuck?!” You cried out indignantly. “Why?!”

The high inside your suddenly plummeted back to the ground, leaving you on the verge of tears.

Dabi gave your ass cheek a light smack. “Told you to say my name.”

You turned your head to give him a death glare. “Fuck you!”

He pressed the tip of his cock at your entrance. “Besides, I want you milking my cock.”

With one hard thrust, he pushed himself halfway inside you, unable to hold back a satisfied growl. Right then you understood exactly why he insisted on preparing you for him. He was definitely thicker and bigger than average. The sudden discomfort had you clench tightly around him in reflex, preventing him from going balls deep at once.

“Stop... fuck... stop being so fucking tight....” Dabi growled, stilling inside you. “Relax, doll...”

Your took a few deep breaths as your pussy adjusted to his unexpected size. He placed his hands on your hips, brushing his thumbs in circles across your flushed skin. It was most likely Dabi’s own way of offering comfort.

You weren’t sure how many seconds passed, but you were genuinely grateful he was waiting for you to finally loosen up and allowed his cock to finally slide all the way in.

A sudden gasp emerged from within you as his fingers gripped your hips vigorously, guiding you along his length. He started out slowly, but his self-restraint wasn’t enough to keep him from thrusting faster and deeper into you. The pace he set resembled that of someone on the edge of losing their sanity.

“You really wanna make me cum fast with that tight pussy of yours...”

His words were like fuel to the fire that once more threatened to get out of control soon enough. Your hands desperately grasped the faucet as pleasure overwhelmed you. A few more thrusts had your thighs starting to quiver.

Dabi had his fingers on your clit once again, determined to deliver all the pleasure he could possibly provide.

“Dabi... Dabi!”

His hips faltered for a split second. “Fuck... such a good and tight girl...”

You could hardly breathe once he set a new rhythm, which nearly had your face getting pressed against your hands from the brutal force.

“Dabi...” you mewled, feeling droplets of water mix with your own saliva as strings of spit hung from the corners of your mouth. You were officially drooling for this man.

In no time, your vision started to tunnel as you were thrown into the pinnacle of sheer bliss. Your mind went blank for a brief moment, with his name coming out in broken moans. The ecstatic orgasm had your pussy ripple and squeeze around his cock mercilessly as you kept rocking your hips against his desperate to ride out your high for as long as possible.

“Fuck this...” you heard him mumble at one point, his groans overcame your own. “Fuck!”

His own release was nearing, that much was certain. He was pounding into you hard and fast, jackhammering into you like his life depended on it, driving the breath from your lungs.

You had long descended from your orgasm, but you were still left to deal with the overstimulation from his cock sliding in and out of you relentlessly.

Tears soon prickled the corners of your eyes. “Oh my... god... enough.... Dabi...”

He responded by rubbing your clit harder in unison with his thrusts.

“Fuuuuuuck!”

His long drawn out groan let you know he had finally reached his peak. Your own knees began to tremble from having to hold your body in that position for so long, but he made sure you weren’t going anywhere. With a few pumps of his hips in a broken rhythm, you felt hot sprays of cum shoot inside your pussy.

He slapped your ass cheek once he was done, enjoying the sight of your pussy still tightly wrapped around him.

“What a pretty pussy....”

Your heart was still racing and your breath coming out uneven.

In one swift motion, he fully slid from inside you, and you immediately felt his cum drip as your walls contracted. “Let’s get you all cleaned up. Then we can take a proper shower.”

You were fairly certain you might regret what just happened later on, but for now, you chose to brush that aside.

Dabi wasn’t someone easy to read.

He most definitely wasn’t someone easy to get.

For the time being, you’d relish on the fact that you had made him cum. Probably not something curriculum worthy, but it was good for you and your ego.

Masterlist

#dabi x reader #dabi #dabi smut #dabi x y/n #mha dabi #bnha dabi #dabi x you #dabi imagine #dabi headcanons #todoroki touya #touya #mha smut #bnha smut #my hero academia smut #dabi scenarios

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slightlycrunchy · 2 years

Text

Faith

For @enolaholmes18 thanks for your prompt!

Read on ao3

2.6k, dadzawa, emotional hurt/comfort, Hitoshi has trust issues

“Okay, okay it’s no big deal,” Shinsou whispers to himself as he walks through UA’s halls, the sheet of paper in his hands disproportionately heavy.

An ‘F’.

He got an ‘F’.

That woman gave him an ‘F’. Deep down he knows he shouldn’t be so harsh towards Ms. Aoi. She was only grading the work he turned into her after too many sleepless nights spent cramming for a test he was given plenty of time to complete.

His steps feel jarring and his stomach feels hollow yet somehow at the same time seems weighted with stones. It’s dread, he knows. He is not unfamiliar with such a feeling in the least, as it seems to haunt him like an unwelcome shadow at the most inopportune times. It’s close cousins with guilt, yet another feeling he imagines clawing at his insides, tying his gut into tight cords. Every muscle in his body feels strung tight, his distress only climbing as he walks through the halls to a very specific destination.

Sensei’s office.

The paper sticks to his sweaty palms and he finds himself swallowing compulsively as he rounds the very last corner before a door appears before him, the name Aizawa, Shouta; 1-A Homeroom on a plaque to its right. He doesn’t know why he keeps doing it, his mouth has gone completely dry.

He knocks hesitantly.

“Come in,” a man’s voice sounds out, muffled by the door—by Hitoshi’s last protection from a fate he swore to himself he wouldn’t succumb to.

“I-it’s me, sensei,” he says as he enters. His fingers slip, clammy, over the handle as he shuts the door behind him.

Aizawa sits at his desk, head bent in concentration as he scrawls something that Hitoshi can’t read onto what he assumes is some kind of document. Aizawa holds office hours everyday after classes until 4:30, following which, three times a week, he meets Hitoshi out on Field K. Today is supposed to be one such day. Hitoshi tries valiantly to breathe around the lump in his throat caused by the fact that this will no longer be the case.

“What can I do for you, Shinsou,” Aizawa asks, still not looking up from his work.

Hitoshi creeps forward slowly, fumbling with the paper in his hands. “Well, um…” He isn’t prepared for this. Even knowing this is his responsibility, having begged Ms. Aoi to let him break the news and not to send his grades in an impersonal, damning email, Hitoshi isn’t ready.

He isn’t ready to wake up from what still feels like a dream, even six months into his training with his favorite hero who had been the very first authority figure in his life to treat him like a human being–

“Shinsou.”

Hitoshi startles, looking up from the tiled floor he doesn’t even remember seeing. You’re only going to make this worse if you make him wait, idiot. Aizawa looks tired, chin pulled down and eyes tilted up far enough that Hitoshi can easily see the whites surrounding them. His stomach feels full of raging storms.

Rip off the bandage, as they say.

“I failed a class, sensei.”

He follows up his words by shoving the paper forward and onto Aizawa’s cluttered desk, knocking a pen onto the floor in the process. The heat in his cheeks grows hotter, burning his skin. Knowing how obvious the blush must look only creates the cycle anew, and he wishes with an ugly sort of desperation that he would burst into flames right now. It would feel better.

Because this is it. He has failed the only stipulation put between him and his dreams.

The memory that began it all has been taunting him ever since he was presented with the end of his current reality this morning in homeroom:

“We will consider this a set schedule, barring any outside hero duties I must attend to, or if 1-A needs my attention. I don’t think I have to mention how this class has set a bar of its own. They may take up more of my time than either you or I expect.”

Hitoshi remembers how a flare of jealousy had kindled bright at that, but Hitoshi is used to such a feeling, knows it comes from his own beliefs in his personal inadequacies regardless of the outside stimulant; which In this case was the fact that no matter what, the kids in 1-A would always come first and he second. He has resigned himself to such a thing since and it no longer bothers him…much.

“The only condition I set is this: keep your grades up. If you weren’t in General Studies it wouldn’t matter as much, your class load bent around your hero studies, but as this isn’t the case, I need to see the effort.”

Aizawa had stepped closer then, both hands in his pockets, hair looking windblown in the breeze that pushed at the perfectly kept lawn of UA’s grounds. Hitoshi vaguely remembers wishing Aizawa would reach out to him; a pat on the shoulder, a touch at his arm. It’s embarrassing to think of now.

“This year won’t be easy on you. It’s going to take everything you have and you’re going to be exhausted, likely irritable, and wonder if you made the wrong choice in taking this all on. But,” Aizawa had said, his eye taking on what appeared to Hitoshi to be a knowing gleam, “you can do it. Even when you’re sure you can’t.”

And then Hitoshi had to go and royally fuck up.

Aizawa is slow to put away his pen, dropping it with a resounding clang into the metal wire cup to his left that holds various writing utensils. He is in no hurry at all when he reaches forward to grab the now-crumpled paper, wrung by Hitoshi’s nervous grip. He is thorough in reading it, seemingly from top to bottom even though there is only one area seared—surely permanently—into Hitoshi’s mind.

Japanese History: F

The words are bubbling up; excuses and pleadings and reasons he failed. I’ll do better, sensei– I just need another chance, sensei– I’m just so tired sometimes I can barely think straight, sensei–

He swallows them all. Because if there is anything Hitoshi has learned, it is that life is a one and done, cut and run, ask questions later kind of thing, and Hitoshi has never been offered a second chance.

The tears taste bitter as he swallows them down.

It feels like an eternity really, watching Aizawa’s eyes remain downcast, the man even going so far as to lean back in his chair—a more comfortable position from which to observe Hitoshi’s world split in two. At some point, a laugh bubbles up in Hitoshi’s chest, wrong and painful, and he barely keeps it from bursting out of his mouth. The last thing he needs is for Aizawa to think he’s deranged on top of it all.

At length, Aizawa places the paper down, smoothing out the edges. He sits forward in his chair once more, forearms placed upon his desk as his fingers lace together. A jolt of electricity runs down Hitoshi’s spine when that dark gaze is leveled at him, all seriousness and edged with something else unreadable.

Hitoshi has to tell himself to breathe.

“I will repeat what I said before.” Aizawa tilts his head forward. “What can I do for you?”

A feeling that he can’t place washes over Hitoshi. It’s numbness mixed with a startling stillness, like water going calm after a single, heavy drop has disturbed its peace. He isn’t sure if his mouth is open, slack in his confusion, but he thinks it is, and he stares at the man in front of him who hasn’t moved at all since inverting Hitoshi’s every expectation. He expected yelling—at the very least a stern word. Hitoshi’s eyes flicker over Aizawa’s face, looking for the disappointment he knows should be there, the slashed hopes, the creeping knowledge that Hitoshi would do this, would fail.

He finds nothing of the sort.

“Shinsou, sit. Please.”

All this time Hitoshi has stood awkwardly in front of Aizawa’s desk, too rattled and on edge to even register the two empty seats directly before him. Hitoshi does, knees lowering him shakily. Breathing still feels difficult.

“Good. Tell me what happened.”

It isn’t demanding, even though if someone else asked in such a way it probably would be. No, in Aizawa’s flat tone it simply is—a question, a curiosity. The burn that Hitoshi would normally feel in his chest, that of a preemptive knowledge that he won’t be listened to, his reasons taken for complaints and attention-seeking, is surprisingly absent.

And so Hitoshi tells him.

“Um…it’s just…I’m sorry, sensei, I thought I had it.” When Aizawa doesn’t say anything he continues. “This week has been hard, and I haven’t been sleeping well–I studied, I promise! Well, maybe I crammed a little too much…” Hitoshi has always struggled with the balance between getting enough rest and completing his assignments. It seems that no matter what he does he always has too little of one or the other, but until now has scraped by with mostly ‘B’s, an occasional ‘C’. He’s ecstatic whenever he gets an ‘A’ since they’re far rarer for him. It seems this time that his luck ran out.

Hitoshi looks down at his fingers, nervously twisting them together as Aizawa sighs. Here it comes—the words he has been waiting for, the final nail in his coffin that he dug the hole for himself.

“Alright, so where do we go from here? Have you talked to your teacher about extra credit, a make-up test? I’m not as familiar with Miss…” he trails off, Hitoshi imagining that he’s searching the paper for Ms. Aoi’s name, “Aoi as I am with some of the other Gen Ed teachers, but I imagine she’ll be accommodating.”

Hitoshi can’t help the guttural sound that comes out of his throat as his head snaps up in shock. “Wh-what? You’re not just–? That’s not just it?”

Aizawa’s eyebrows lower as he frowns. “What do you mean? What did you think would happen, Shinsou?”

Hitoshi scoffs, his hands coming up in a limp shrug. “Oh, just losing everything I’ve worked so hard for—training with you and the possibility of transferring to the Hero Course,” he says. The tears still don’t fall but they sting behind his eyes. The laugh he felt earlier comes out of his chest, ugly and twisted, a cough more than anything else. “It’s what you said, right? Keep my grades up, you need to see the effort? The problem is, sensei, that this is all my effort.”

Hitoshi shakes his head and turns from Aizawa, who to his credit simply looks invested in what Hitoshi has to say, his face still held in a small frown but nothing more.

“I feel like I’m drowning and I’ve forgotten what breathing even feels like.” The words push out from behind gritted teeth. Hitoshi doesn’t know where this animosity has come from, this anger that burns him from within. “I’m just so tired of knowing that I’ll fail and then being unable to prove myself wrong!”

Because that’s really what this is, isn’t it? Not only has he let Aizawa down—a feat bad enough in itself—but no matter what horrible things Hitoshi has ever told himself with the small, nagging voice inside his own head, that small hope inside him that someday he won’t be a screw-up, a disappointment, still burns bright.

He hates himself.

His fingernails bite venomously into his skin as he presses them in, rounding his back and making himself small. The pressure rises in his chest as he fights to keep the tears inside, fights the scream he wants so badly to release–

And then he feels hands, larger than his own and warm, encircle the ridges of his fingers. They firmly but gently pry away his nails from his skin, smooth over the red, angry marks left there.

“Shinsou.”

Hitoshi feels like a shadow of a boy when he looks up at Aizawa who at some point rounded the desk and is now squatting in front of where Hitoshi sits, miserable in the mire of his own mistakes.

“Do you remember the rest of that conversation, when I told you what was expected of you?”

The question is so out of left field from what Hitoshi expected from the man that it stuns him for a second. “That…I remember what you said. I’ve thought about it all day…”

Aizawa’s eyebrows raise slightly. “Do you? I don’t think you would feel this way if you did.”

Hitoshi scrambles to filter through the memory he had recalled only minutes before, played on repeat throughout the day as Hitoshi awaited this meeting like a man at the steps of his own personal guillotine. There is nothing new, there is nothing else, and he says as much, voice pitched high in confusion.

Aizawa is still holding his hands. He hums.

“Maybe that’s on me. I remember it ending on a far more hopeful note—something along the lines of if it gets to be too much for you–”

“Call on me.”

They say the words in unison, Hitoshi’s eyes searching Aizawa’s dark and steady gaze.

Aizawa hums again. “I never meant to give you an ultimatum, kid. I deal in plenty of those as a teacher, but this wasn’t one of those times. If it’s sleep you need, I’ve got some tips. If it’s a tutor you need, we can find someone. I don’t think there’s a single teacher here that expects you to go through your entire high school career on your own, especially you. I told you this year would be hell, do you think I expected you to do it without help?”

Hitoshi feels stupid and relieved and ashamed and giddy all at once. His body feels wrung out but lighter, a warmth running through him that feels infinitely better than before. Another laugh makes its way out of him but this time it is airy, free.

“Is it bad if I say ‘yeah’?”

Aizawa’s mouth quirks up into a smirk. “‘Bad’? No. A little foolish maybe.”

“I’m good at foolish.”

For a moment, Hitoshi simply looks down at Aizawa’s hands, still covering his own. After a few seconds they withdraw, but it’s with a slowness that doesn’t make Hitoshi think Aizawa is rushing away from him, desperate to break the connection. Hitoshi blinks tiredly as Aizawa rounds his desk again, sitting gracefully in his own chair.

“So, here’s what we will do. Speak to Ms. Aoi. Let me know what she says and we can go from there. Alright?”

Hitoshi nods, feeling almost as if he’s outside of his own body. He very nearly can’t imagine the feelings he was arrested by before; why should he have ever panicked? Of course there are things that can be done, his history teacher has never been a hard-ass. Looking back now, it all seems just a little embarrassing.

Deep down though, he knows it was a bit more than that, these specific circumstances building on his deeper fears learned from a young age.

But of course, this isn’t the first of Hitoshi’s problems Aizawa has overcome with a finesse only he seems to possess. Hitoshi is suddenly overwhelmed with a heavy, nearly suffocating dose of gratitude.

“Thank you, sensei.”

Aizawa’s expression is as steady as ever. “You’re welcome, Shinsou.”

Later in the week, when they’re both sweaty from training, Hitoshi nursing the small cuts he always seems to get from the rigid edges of his capture weapon, his fears feel far away. But he knows, from here onward, that he will never let another worry sway his faith in Aizawa Shouta.

#dadzawa #shinson #my writing #aizawa shouta #shinsou hitoshi #my hero academia #bnha #angst #hurt/comfort

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