#and keeps getting so shot and comatose every day like he has lasted so long but hes the chairman that has taken the most damage | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

natsfirecat · 3 years

Text

Stay

summary: r gets hurt saving nat (who she’s in love with) and natasha wants nothing more than to get her back

based on these two requests:

1: If you still need Hurt and Comfort prompts, would you accept a scenario where Reader fell in a coma after a mission gone wrong, and the whole time she’s unconscious, Natasha doesn’t want to leave her side. She doesn’t sleep, barely eats, and constantly talking to reader thinking she can hear. Reader then wakes up after 3 months, and Natasha confesses her feelings for Reader.❤️‍🩹🥺

2: How bout Natasha x fem!Reader where Reader takes a bullet after saving her crush, Natasha, on a mission. Reader survives and brushes it off as “it’s my job” but Natasha doesn’t take the whole situation well, especially since she has feelings for reader too!I HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER! 😘😫❤️*have some tea 🍵 *

word count: 2.8k

genre: fluff and angst but fluff ending

warnings: swearing, gunshot, comatose, blood, medical knowledge that only comes from grey’s anatomy, catradora quote because i have no self control, lmk if i need to add any more!

A/N i combined these requests since they were kinda similar, i hope you don’t mind kind anons!

“She’s tachycardic! Push one of epi, STAT!”

“No, no,”

“Hang on, Y/N, I’m going to do everything in my power to help you. Just keep holding on, okay?”

“You’re gonna be okay, alright? You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna pull through this,”

“Why would you do that? How could you be so stupid? Why did you do that?” She yelled.

“Just doing… my job…” You managed to get out.

Eventually the voices around you began to fade out as you succumbed to unconsciousness.

As you felt yourself slipping away, the only thing on your mind was the woman you loved; Natasha Romanoff.

~12 hours earlier~

“Are you ready to go home soon?” You asked.

“Kinda,” she replied honestly. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the team and all, but it is nice to get away sometimes,”

You shrugged,

“Yeah, I guess,”

She smiled, then walked closer to you, putting an arm around your shoulder.

“It is nice getting away with you, though,”

You grinned, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“I like getting away with you too, Nat,”

She smirked, squeezing your shoulder,

“Then it’s a good thing we still have a day left,”

You could feel your heart-rate increasing as your cheeks got even redder.

Her smirk turned into a soft smile before she pulled away and went to the bathroom to change.

You sighed, thinking about your hopeless crush on her. You had been an Avenger for three years, friends with Natasha for two, and in love with her for one.

You never imagined that you would fall for the Black Widow, but now you couldn’t imagine your life without her.

“So… there’s a mission Fury assigned me to,” she said, leaning back against the couch. “It’s in France, and he said it could last anywhere from a year or two,”

“What?” You sat straight up. “No! That’s too long!”

“I know. It’s a no-contact mission too,”

“That’s such bullshit. You can’t accept that mission, Natty,”

“He assigned me, Y/N, there’s nothing I can do unless someone else volunteers to take the mission instead,”

You stared at her, suddenly feeling very defeated.

“No…” you whispered as your eyes began to pool with tears.

You looked at Natasha, who held her tongue at the roof of her mouth so she wouldn’t cry. You leaned in and wrapped your arms around her tightly, letting out quiet sobs into her neck.

As she held you in her arms, the only thing running through her mind was that she had no idea how the hell she would survive being away from you for that long.

After two days of crying, and resisting the urge to scream at Fury, you heard a knock on your door.

“Come in!” You called. The door opened to reveal none other than your favorite redhead, who had the biggest smile on her face.

“Hey,” she said, sitting on your bed.

“Hi,”

“Guess what?”

You shrugged, not really in the mood for guessing games. You just wanted to cherish your last few moments with her before she left.

“So I got a call from Fury this morning…” she told you, her smile growing bigger. “And he said that someone else took the mission,”

You couldn’t believe it. Your best friend didn’t have to leave.

You opened your mouth to say something, but you couldn’t speak. So instead, you threw yourself into her arms.

As they had done several times in the past two days, your eyes began to fill with tears. But this time however, they were tears of joy.

She was holding onto you just as tight as you were holding onto her.

When you finally backed away, she smiled, then reached her thumb up to your face to wipe away your tears.

“Hey,” she said softly. “You don’t need to cry, I’m staying,”

“They’re happy tears, Natty,”

She brought her other hand to your face to wipe away tears on the other cheek, then just held your face in her hands for a few moments.

Oh fuck you thought to yourself. Those tears weren’t platonic.

After that night, you had tried to deny your feelings for her for a bit. After all, you had gotten romantic and platonic attraction mixed up in the past, who’s to say that this wasn’t one of those times?

But as time went on, the butterflies would happen even more often around her. Your heartbeat began to race if her hand brushed up against yours. Your face would flush when your arms wrapped around her in a hug. You wanted nothing more than to be with her, to feel her lips against yours, and to be able to tell her you loved her and have her say it back.

The only person who knew about your crush on Natasha was Wanda. She had asked if anyone caught your eye, and you refused to tell her anything. However, she decided to read your mind to find out.

You were a little frustrated that she did that, but you weren’t too mad, knowing you would’ve done the same thing to your best friend.

So since then, Wanda would always try to convince you to tell her, and you would always say no.

As much as it hurt to have these feelings and not tell her, you knew it would be nothing compared to telling her and having the feelings not reciprocated and losing your friendship. You’d rather stay just her friend forever than to lose her.

So here you were now, in love with one of your best friends.

“Ready to go?” She asked as she finished putting her suit on.

“Yep!”

She smiled, then gestured for you to follow her. Today was the last day of your mission, and you just needed to erase all files from some druglord’s computer.

For the past week, the two of you had done several stakeouts, gotten information, and identified people. The last step was destroying their information.

So, Natasha was currently driving the two of you to the location. She had the radio playing, and the two of you were softly singing the lyrics to the songs.

You turned to face her, feeling yourself smile at the sight of her being so carefree around you.

Not that you knew this, but you were the only person she would ever allow to see her like this.

She kept her eyes on the road, but saw you looking at her through her peripheral vision. You were simply mouthing the lyrics now, not really paying attention to them. Instead, your attention was purely on Natasha.

She kept singing the words though, but she was also smiling at the sight of you.

As she began to turn her head to fully face you, your cheeks grew red.

“Eyes on the road, Nat!” You told her, laughing.

“Okay, mom,” She retorted, earning a playful eye roll from you.

“Oh don’t be like that,” she said, beginning to as well. “C’mon, we’re here anyway,”

You nodded, opening the door as soon as she stopped the car.

Once she locked the car, the two of you made your way into the building.

She had her gun ready, holding it out at every corner you turned.

“We’ve been here like four times already, Nat,” you told her, scoffing. “We’re fine”

She grumbled in response, but kept her gun out.

You shook your head, letting out a sigh, then continued on.

Once you made your way to the necessary room, each of you sat down in front of a computer.

“Delete, erase, goodbye,” you muttered as you typed.

Natasha didn’t say anything as she typed away, just wanting to get out of this building as soon as possible.

You glanced over at her every once in a while.

You smiled, watching her type with the clacking on the keyboard. The tip of her tongue was poking out the corner of her mouth. Her eyes began to squint as she focused on the screen.

Unfortunately, while you were staring, you failed to notice someone else come in the room behind you.

“Avengers,” A voice from behind you said.

You whipped around, your eyes widening to see someone wearing a combat suit holding a gun out.

Natasha stood up, raising her gun immediately.

Before you could even process what was happening, you heard the sound of a gunshot.

Without even thinking about it, you threw yourself at Natasha, knocking her to the ground.

Turns out, she was the one who shot first, considering that the other guy was currently laying in a pool of his own blood that was spilling out fast.

But as you jumped, he aimed his gun at Natasha, pulling the trigger.

You let out a groan of pain, feeling a pain growing in your shoulder.

“Y/N no! What did you do?”

She cried your name a few more times, but you couldn’t respond. You only let out a few shaky breaths and sobs as the pain in your shoulder began to grow.

She pulled her phone out, calling for help as fast as she could.

Everything hurt, but you wouldn’t have changed a thing you did. All that mattered to you, was that the woman you loved was safe.

All that mattered was that Natasha Romanoff was safe.

~two days later~

“How’s she doing?”

“Same as before.”

Natasha sighed as she reached onto your bed, placing her hand over yours.

As soon as you were brought back, everyone began working on you right away. Dr. Cho saved your life, and managed to get the bullet out.

However, because of how long it had taken to get you into surgery, you had a lot of internal bleeding.

So, here you were now, in a coma. No one knew when, or even if, you would ever wake up.

Natasha stayed by your side the entire time.

“Nat, you can’t stay in here forever,” Wanda said, gently placing her hand on her shoulder.

“It was my fault, Wanda,” she replied, her voice hoarse from crying. “It should’ve been me,”

“Don’t say that. You’re both alive. She wouldn’t want you to say that, or to sulk in here all day,”

Natasha said something, but kept her gaze on your unconscious body as her red eyes began to fill with tears once again.

“I can’t lose her.”

After the first week, Natasha finally left your room at night. She would usually come in around 7:00 AM, and stay until midnight.

Clint would come by, and bring her food. He was genuinely worried that she wouldn’t eat if he didn’t.

Wanda came by often too.

“Do you think she can hear us?” Natasha asked her.

“I can try and find out, if you’d like,” Wanda offered.

Natasha nodded, removing her hand from you.

Wanda stood up, then placed one hand on your forehead, closing her eyes.

After a few moments of silence, she gave Natasha a soft smile.

“She’s dreaming,”

“Is she aware of things going on outside?”

“Not right now. I don’t think she’s constantly dreaming while unconscious. Hearing our voices right now, she’s either drowning them out or they’ll be in her dream. She might become more aware later,”

Natasha let out a shaky breath, then connected her hand to yours again.

“Hi, Y/N,” she breathed out. “We did it. We destroyed the files, and the building ended up being destroyed after we left. We did the mission, you can wake up now. You can come back now,”

She could feel herself about to cry, so she turned to Wanda.

“What’s she dreaming about?”

Wanda closed her eyes again, looking into your mind.

“She’s at this house, and there’s comforting energy coming from it. I think it might be her childhood home.” Wanda explained. “Something’s happening in slow motion. There’s like, cracks of electricity and… oh my god there’s a lightning strike right in front of her,”

“She’s dreaming about lightning?”

“I can hear her inner voice. Part of her is afraid, but the bigger part of her is thinking the lightning strike will give her superpowers… and she’s floating in the air right now,”

Natasha laughed for the first time since getting back. Of course superpowers would be on your mind while getting struck by lightning.

“Thank you, Wanda,” she told her, gently squeezing your hand.

“Of course,” she replied. “You should get some rest. I know Y/N would want you to,”

Natasha sighed, then nodded. She was feeling better for the first time since you took the bullet for her.

“Hey,” she said, getting a laptop out and setting it on the side of your bed. “It’s been three weeks now, and uh, I thought it might be a good idea to bring this down and watch your favorite movie. Y’know, maybe hearing it will help you,”

A lump began to form in her throat as she stared at you. However, she said nothing else as she pulled up your favorite movie, then placing it close enough so you could hear, and see it if you were to open your eyes.

Once she pressed play, she sat on the edge of your bed. She wasn’t looking at the laptop screen, she was looking down at you.

She brushed a strand of hair out of your face, and ran her thumb across your cheekbone.

Natasha didn’t even realize she was crying until she had to wipe her own tears off your forehead.

“Sorry,” she muttered, pulling away so she wouldn’t cry on you anymore. “I just… really miss you, Y/N.”

She opened her mouth to say something else, but stopped when she noticed your eyebrow twitch.

It felt like everything in her body stopped working for a moment as she replayed it in her mind; you moved.

Before she knew it, she was sprinting out of your room at full speed to get Dr. Cho.

“She moved! I think she’s waking up! Her eyebrow moved!” She yelled as she barged into her office.

Dr. Cho tilted her head to the side, but followed her back to your room.

She walked over to you, then examined the monitors. She looked at you, then back at your vitals.

“Miss Romanoff, I’m so sorry, but there’s nothing in her brain activity that indicates her moving or waking up. Sometimes, when we want to see something so bad, our mind tricks us into thinking we saw it. It’s a cruel thing, but it’s not uncommon for situations like this,”

Natasha’s heart dropped as the doctor left the room to give her space. She thought she had you back.

She wasn’t going to give up on you. She pulled the laptop away, then sat next to you again.

She then layed down, and wrapped her arms around you, sobbing into your neck.

“Wake up, please,” she begged between sobs. “Come back to me.”

Natasha pulled back, placing one hand on your cheek. She leaned down, pulling you close again.

“Don’t you get it?” She said at almost a whisper. “I love you. I always have. So please, just this once. Stay.” She pulled back again, then placed a gentle kiss to your cheek. “Stay.”

It was like everything in her froze again.

Your eyebrows were definitely twitching now. A groan escaped your mouth, as you blinked your eyes open.

“Natty,” you said, wrapping your arms around her neck. “You love me?”

“Of course I do,”

You smiled at her, despite the pain running through your body.

“Good, ‘cause I’ve been in love with you for like the past year,”

She let out a mix between a laugh and a sob as she leaned close to you once again.

You leaned forward too, and before you knew it, the distance between the two of you was closed as you were kissing.

It was gentle, considering the fact that you were still hurt, but you both savored every second of it.

“I love you so much,” you told her, keeping your arms around her.

At this point, you both had tears streaming down your cheeks. Neither of you cared as you leaned in for another kiss.

“Never do that again, okay?” She told you.

“Do what? Kiss you? I plan on doing that a lot more, thank you very much,”

She rolled her eyes, letting out a small laugh.

“Don’t ever put yourself in danger like that for me again, alright? I don’t care if you say it’s your job. Don’t do it again,”

“I did it because I love you, Natty,”

She sighed, wiping away one of your tears.

“I’m never leaving you though,”

“Good, I don’t want you to leave,”

Of course, the two of you would end up arguing about putting yourselves in danger to save each other, but it would all work out in the end.

You loved her, and she loved you. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x yn #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x fem reader #natalia alianovna romanova

483 notes · View notes

karlnapity · 3 years

Text

i declare war on my body.

chapter 1: it’s sad to know that we are not alone in this.

(tws: nongraphic self-harm)

punz is the first to come back after the egg is destroyed.

it makes sense; after all, he’s the least connected, the least influenced. he only ever existed on the outskirts of the faction, still the most in control of himself of everyone.

it only takes a few days for him to recover, the red receding bit after bit from his eyes. he spends most of those days sleeping, only waking every few hours to stare at the wall. he tells sam his head feels buzzy, like his thoughts are all out of order, and all sam can do is rub his shoulder and encourage him to go back to sleep.

it’s on the fourth or fifth day he starts to regain any sort of energy, tells puffy a little about what it was like to be under the egg’s influence. he’s allergic to any sort of vulnerability, but no one can deny the way his hands shake, and puffy holds them with her own.

the last of the red bleeds through his tears.

it takes around two weeks for ant to make any sort of semblance of consciousness. he blinks his cat pupils open on the final day, stares sam in the face, and starts to cry. his eyes are still purple-tinted, but sam can’t care less as he envelopes his friend in a hug. ant is mumbling something that sounds like ‘i’m sorry' over and over and over again, and sam shushes him, runs a hand along the fur on his head in a calming gesture from when they were kids.

they stay there for a long time. whenever sam tries to pull away, ant hooks his claws in sam’s armor and doesn’t let him leave.

sam doesn’t say anything about it, just obliges.

it’s a hard and long process, apologizing. punz and ponk speak in quiet, mumbling voices, and no one dares interrupt them. ant begins with puffy, sitting next to her on the beds they set up, and he recounts the story to her.

“i wish i could tell you more,” he says. “but i don’t remember all that much.”

it’s a complete lie, and he has a feeling she knows, but thankfully she doesn’t pry. she just stands, takes his hand, and pulls him to his feet.

his legs are still a bit shaky, but she supports him as she leads them outside.

the vines are gone, and he can’t help but let out a small cry of relief. she grins at him as she leads him to hannah’s house.

the colors are still gone from her house, but as they settle outside he admires the roses that have started to push through the grass once again.

it’s such a wonder to be in control of himself once again. he opens and closes his hands a few times, still relishing in the feeling.

(he’s not sure of the timeline, of how long he wasn’t himself, but he can’t bring himself to ask.)

he looks at puffy, who’s watching him with a complicated expression. he reaches out a paw, and she takes it.

“i missed you,” she murmurs.

he’s been doing a lot of crying in the few short days he’s been awake, but he never seems to run out of tears.

“i missed you too.”

“we were so worried about what would happen to you after it was destroyed. it had such a strong hold on you…”

“i know, i know, but i’m here now, right? everyone’s gonna be ok.”

(it’s a lie. he’s still coasting on adrenaline, on pure unfiltered relief right now, but he knows it can’t last long. he knows they’ll realize they don’t forgive him, and he knows they’ll realize that it was his fault. because it was. he can’t let himself relax for long.)

she doesn’t make eye contact, and he can see her face pinch a bit at that. he feels a bit of a pit growing in his stomach. he almost doesn’t want to ask.

“what is it?”

she purses her lips. “we’re not sure, on bad.”

his stomach drops.

he demands to see bad immediately. it’s a long process, on such tired legs, to get down to the area below. they let him and punz recover on the surface, but puffy said they wanted bad as far from any of the egg’s possible influence as the final vines were being destroyed.

he’s sequestered in a room deep below, and as puffy leads ant down the hallway his anxiety grows.

as much as he wants to see his friend, part of him doesn’t.

a lot of him doesn’t. he stills. he can’t bring his legs to move any more. puffy walks a few more strides before she notices he isn’t behind her, and she doubles back.

she notices his expression immediately. “what’s wrong?”

he struggles to get the words out. he’s been struggling with that a lot, lately. he opens and closes his mouth a few times before he can get it out. it’s still surprising to be able to do so.

“i don’t know if i want to see him.” it’s a painful admission, and part of him fears puffy will immediately call him an asshole. hell, he doesn’t fucking want to see his best friend, one of the people he cares most about, his friend who’s comatose. that’s a bit of a dick move.

but she doesn’t. she rests a hand on his shoulder, and he pulls her into a hug as he hiccups. she rubs his back. they sink to the ground, and puffy holds him close.

“why don’t you want to see him?” there’s no judgment in her voice, not like he feared, and something about it unlocks his words.

“i just… part of it… i don’t want to see the effects, because that’ll make it so much more real.” he bites his lip. “and... we... we did such shitty things together- and i don’t want to remember them- i don’t want to remember how we treated each other- and-”

he can’t breathe. she rubs on his back, murmuring reassurances, and little by little the anxiety in his chest dissipates enough for him to think. he pulls back, a bit, gets a clear look at her face. she gives him a small smile, and he returns it.

“you don’t have to, if you don’t want to. we all get it.” she shifts closer, so they’re sitting side by side on the hallway floor. “it’s a hard thing. you deserve to feel comfortable, first of all. you deserve to put yourself and your recovery first.”

he tugs his knees to his chin. he doesn’t deserve to be first, not after what he did to everyone. puffy’s just being nice. they- his victims- they deserve to be first.

(but does bad count as a victim? he can remember, faintly, being horrible to bad. they fought all the time, he knows that, and not just with words.

the egg pit them against each other, had them fight for everything. he remembers more than he cares to.)

old wounds sting, even after they’ve long since healed. he puts a hand on a faint scar on his arm.

bad doesn’t count as a victim. he shivers.

“ant?” puffy asks gently.

“i don’t want to see him,” he murmurs, as horrible as it feels. puffy nods, pulls him into a brief hug, and tells him to go back upstairs, that she’ll be right behind.

he crawls into bed, and he sleeps for a long, long time.

“how’s he doing?” puffy asks as she enters the room. sam looks up from the bedside, setting his book on his lap.

“no change,” he says. puffy purses her lips, takes a look.

bad’s been sleeping fitfully ever since the egg was destroyed. he was the first to go down, collapsing the moment the final vine was severed. sam speculates the egg was siphoning the most energy from him, considering he was the leader of their cause.

he looks terrible. he’s hardly been able to sleep consistently for over half an hour, still gasping and wrenching in what seems to be pain, and they can’t figure out how to fix it.

he still has vines curled around his arm and face. they can’t find where it’s coming from, and every time they trim it back it returns within hours.

a few days ago they came in to find it seemingly ripped out. he was bleeding, badly, but when they returned with medical supplies it had already grown back.

(they decided to keep a constant watch, after that.)

she touches a hand to his forehead. none of them are exactly sure what temperature demons are supposed to be, but all the same he seems far too cold. she strokes his cheek, pulls away and adjusts the blankets. it’s a bit tough, with his height, but they make do.

he’s so pale. his skin looks almost gray where it used to be vibrant, and the red accents still haven’t turned from white.

(he looks dead. every time she comes to see him she can’t help but reach for his pulse. can’t help but check.)

she leans back, sighs. “ant didn’t want to see him.”

sam frowns. “punz and ponk didn’t, either.”

“he didn’t say much on it,” she continues, sitting beside him. “but he seemed almost… scared, i’d say. he said they didn’t treat each other too well.”

“it’s not surprising, is it? it must have been torture, it’s not surprising to learn it had them be awful to each other. if they were too close they’d find a way to fight back, and it couldn’t have that.”

she nods, putting her head in her hands. sam rubs her shoulder. she leans into his side, lets herself break just a little.

(only a little.)

“i just wish he’d wake up.”

“i know,” he says quietly. “i miss him. we’ve just got to hope it’s soon.”

punz starts out the day with the express need to forget what the fuck happened.

he can’t bear the way they look at him. puffy and sam’s pity makes him sick, and ant’s trying desperately to avoid him at all costs, and ponk still has a hard time looking him in the eye.

it hurts. he wants things to go back to the way they were, but he doesn’t because that was dream. he’s not sure what he wants.

he deserves a fucking break.

he’s not supposed to leave, yet, not without someone to accompany him, but he doesn’t care. the constant care is suffocating, and he just wants to pretend he’s back to normal for five fucking seconds.

so he grabs a bag, a couple loaves of bread, and

his head still hasn’t cleared, and his body is still utterly shot from being stretched to its limits for months, so he can’t run too far, but he doesn’t care.

(the pain is good, means he’s atoning, and when his lungs burn this hard he can’t even focus on memories.)

he coughs, stumbles, and finds himself on the ground. he rolls over, lays flat on his back, and stares at the sky. he wants to scream.

can he not have five seconds?

his brain feels fuzzy again. it’s been hard, lately, to think much of anything beyond a need to escape a mysterious, nonexistent enemy that’s probably just inside his own mind, but he can’t relax, can’t let himself go, can’t concentrate on anything because of sheer fear.

(puffy says it’s hypervigilance, a trauma response, but that doesn’t make sense, because wasn’t he doing the traumatizing?)

none of it makes any fucking sense. he just wants to curl up on the hill he’s found himself on, stay there forever. it’s so hard. he just wants to stay here forever.

he curls onto his side, closes his eyes. everything’s fuzzy.

“punz?”

he jolts, almost screams, but it’s ponk. he can relax around ponk. ponk’s safe. he settles back onto the ground. “you awake, buddy?”

he waves a hand, and ponk grabs it. he feels the other sit beside him.

“you’re not supposed to run, it’s not safe.”

punz grunts, rolls back onto his back. he has to put extra care into making words, now. it’s so much more tiring. he considers just not responding. he does. “yeah.”

ponk sighs. “ok. can you stand?”

it’s a long process to get back to the base.

bad wakes up slowly.

the first time, sam barely notices it. he rolls over, raises a hand to rub on his face, which isn’t too uncommon. the keen of pain that follows is still business as usual, much as it makes sam’s heart ache.

then, all of a sudden, he gasps. his hands fly up to pull at the vine on his face. his eyes are still closed, but he’s crying, sobbing, even, and he grasps with what seems to be his full strength. sam stands, trying to figure out what to do, when the vines fly off with a sickening noise that makes sam want to be sick.

they fall to the ground, and he raises a netherite boot to crush them. it makes a horrible squelch, and sam knows he’ll have to burn the boots later to get the stain off, but it doesn’t matter.

what matters is the blinking, too-dim, barely open eyes in front of him.

sam pulls him into a tight hug. bad makes a sort of growl in the back of his throat that makes sam’s hair stand up on end.

bad doesn’t usually speak in his native tongue, anymore, and sam has no idea what he says, but he doesn’t care.

his friend is alive.

everything hurts so much. every single nerve in his body feels like it’s on fire, feels like he’s burning up from the inside.

someone- sam, it’s sam, it’s sam it’s samit’ssam- is petting his hair, running his fingers through the knots and working them out gently. he’s saying something, but the rushing in bad’s ears is too much to be able to understand anything at all.

he’s so tired. he wants to fall asleep, wants to sleep forever, but the pain is so much that he can’t do more than collapse against sam, let the other man carry his weight. he wants to bring his arms up to return the hug (it’s the least he can do) but he can’t.

he lets out a whine. everything is too much. the world is too bright, his own breathing is too ragged to his ears, even sam’s touch hurts. sam just continues murmuring words bad doesn’t understand and running his fingers through his hair.

the door opens, or at least he thinks it does. he’s not sure. his weight is passed from sam to another and he cries out. he doesn’t want sam to leave him, but this new person talks in a voice that calms him. he feels a warm washcloth on his face and it’s the only thing that doesn’t burn. the person takes his hands and warms them between their own, and the pain eases just a little.

he relaxes, slowly.

there’s still whispering in his ears and he tries so hard to tune it out.

(it hurts.)

he curls in on himself when it grows too loud.

it gets louder. he doesn’t stay awake for long.

#personal #awesamdude #ponk #captain puffy #antfrost #badboyhalo #punz #eggpire #dream smp #mcyt #dsmp

211 notes · View notes

danny-chase · 3 years

Text

Delirium - read on AO3

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman (Comics), Titans (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tim Drake & Damian Wayne & Dick Grayson, Roy Harper & Lian Harper, Lian Harper & Dick Grayson, Lian Harper & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Roy Harper, Tim Drake & Roy Harper Characters: Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, Roy Harper, Lian Harper Additional Tags: Hopsitals, delirious, Anxiety, Panic, POV Tim Drake, Canon Divergence, Good Sibling Tim Drake, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Tim Drake is Bad at Feelings, Hurt Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson is Batman, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Damian Wayne is Robin, Lian never died, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Dick Grayson gets a forehead kiss, Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Batfamily Dynamics (DCU), Caring Batfamily (DCU), fluff at the end, Teen Titans as Family, Tim Drake emotional whump, Damian Wayne emotional whump, Lian Harper is a ray of stubborn sunshine on a cloudy day, gunshot wound, Head Wound, Coloring Books Series: Part 4 of Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:

The one where Tim has to be the oldest for like five minutes and decides he doesn't like it (but does a good job anyways).

Full story under cut

“Alvin? Alvin… Draper?” A nurse called from across the room. Tim pulled his head out of his hands, careful not to jostle his fake moustache. “This way please.” She intoned, waving a hand towards a bustling hallway.

Damian nearly leapt out of the stiff plastic chair, and he slowly followed suit, trying to act causal. He doubted he was fooling anyone; his legs shook as he walked forward, and he was pretty sure he left a ring of butt sweat on his seat. Taking deep breaths to calm his fraying nerves, he concentrated on taking steady steps forward – he didn’t care much for Damian, but there was no way he’d let a child go through this sort of thing alone. Especially one who probably had never visited someone in the hospital (let alone been in one) before.

He’d gotten a panicked call from Barbara a few days ago. Gotham in ruins, streets in chaos… the usual. Bruce was gone. He couldn’t miraculously pull them out of these things anymore. The first Batman was dead, and this time… they could lose the second.

“Report.” Damian demanded, his harsh tone penetrating Tim’s thoughts. He was suddenly aware of the chaos of the hallway, of people jostling them as they rushed by, a cacophony of machines squealing and loud voices, and bright lights illuminating tacky flooring. He’d fallen a pace behind and quickened his step to stand firmly next to his… little brother.

As much he’d tried to deny it, at the end of the day, that’s what bound them. Fealty to a dead man, he’d once hoped they could be something more – but this family was ripping apart at the seams and Tim had to wonder what even kept them all here anymore.

Though – that wasn’t hard to figure out.

Dick was in trouble, and he came running. He’d been in trouble and Dick had come running. They were brothers in every sense of the word, without Bruce tying them together. His stomach clenched at the thought that it might all be lost to him forever, and he swallowed the bile burning at the top of his throat.

Dick had this way of making you feel like you were the only person in the world – when you talked to him, he listened, gave advice, and would drop anything to help. He quickly crawled his way into your life, cementing you as family. Things were never perfect, and they’d had their fights, but Dick always bent first, forgiveness freely given rather than earned. Tim had needed that. And from what little time they’d spent together, he knew Damian did too.

Panic. That was the only way to describe how he felt. He couldn’t be that for Damian – he couldn’t be Dick. He let out a shaky breath – Dick had to be fine – he couldn’t – not after Bruce – he couldn’t do this again – he was on the verge of shattering after finally picking up all the broken pieces of himself and –

“I said, report.” Damian squeaked. He jolted back into reality, steading his breath, and replaying the last few minutes, his mind trying to catch up.

The nurse seemed unamused, her nostrils flaring and brow tight as she glanced back. “Sorry, my brother’s a little uhh… stressed…?” He stammered, not wanting to offend Damian – or worse, start an argument in a crowded hallway. But he didn’t flinch at the comment, a testament to the seriousness of the situation they found themselves in.

Dick was shot in the back of the head, and Tim honestly had no idea if they’d gotten him medical attention in time. He could be comatose for the rest of his life, would never breathe on his own, never talk to them again, never walk, never think, never… god… he’d never talk to Dick again, and it was all his fault for being too late, too unprepared, too much of a failure to-

“The operation went well, we need to keep him for observation, but we’re hopeful he’ll make a full recovery in a month or two.” Tim blinked back tears as a weight lift off his shoulders, bringing a hand up, covering his eyes for just a second. He looked up to find Damian frozen; too stunned to move. He gently placed an arm around his shoulders, tugging him along so he wouldn’t be swept up in the tide. Surprisingly, that much was allowed today, the child’s thoughts were elsewhere, so Tim focused his thoughts on him.

Damian was only ten. And he’d almost lost Dick to a fate worse than death, after seeing him shot before his eyes, helpless to stop it. They didn’t have hospitals in the League, it was kill or be killed, and then there were the pits. Had he ever watched someone recover naturally?

“He’ll be okay.” Tim hissed, in a tone that only Damian could hear. Damian startled back into the present, glaring at him briefly, shaking off Tim’s hand, and storming after the nurse. He kept his expression carefully out of view.

They turned into a private hospital room, pulling the door shut behind her, and winked. “Timothy Drake-Wayne and Damian Wayne, I presume.”

He could feel the kid freeze beside him, his own heart threatening to escape his throat.

“Oh, sorry - don’t panic, I’m with STAR Labs, we’ve worked with Richard and his team for years.” Damian huffed in annoyance. “Your identities aren’t compromised; Oracle made the arrangements for our team to take over when he arrived.” She passed her clipboard to Tim. “The walls are soundproof, you can stay as long as you want, I trust you can get out on your own, and it’s not like I’m going to stop you if you decide to stay longer than I recommend.” She sighed. “Just, don’t distress the patient, he’ll be confused when he wakes up, it’s normal. Call if you need, our monitoring systems are top notch, we’ll be watching – but not listening of course.”

And with that, the nurse turned on her heel, exiting as fast as she’d arrived, leaving Tim opened mouthed next to a wide-eyed Damian.

He watched as the door slowly turned on its hinges, picking up speed until it slammed shut. Almost immediately it popped back open. “If he tries to get up, don’t let him escape.” She rolled her eyes. “You human patients are always the worst.” And with that, she was gone. A few awkward, silent moments passed.

“Are you coming, Drake?” Damian’s voice had lost its normal edge, as he determinedly stared at the windows. He couldn’t see Dick from where they stood, but he could make out the edge of the bed, a pure white sheet neatly tucked under the edge.

He shifted, hesitantly - he always hated this part. But regardless, he took the lead, striding forward, and allowing Damian the comfort of walking in someone’s shadow. Because even if he wouldn’t say it, there was no way the kid wanted to do this alone. He couldn’t replace Dick – was thankful he didn’t have to, but this – this was the least he could do.

Hospital beds have this way of making the people inside them seem smaller. Tim braced himself as he stepped into view, and well, it could be worse. Dick was out cold, drooling on his pillow still hooked up to a few monitors, which steadily droned and beeped in the background. A lump of gauze and bandages swathed the base of his skull.

Damian flitted past his side to sit in the chair next to the bed, and Tim sprang into action, taking the chair next to the window. He flipped through the charts without really reading anything, and the two sat in stony silence. Pulling out his phone, he scrolled through dozens of missed calls and unanswered texts before shoving it back in his pocket.

He spared a glance at Damian - he was curled up in the chair, grimacing and staring at the wall. He didn’t dare try saying anything more, lest they start fighting in Dick’s hospital room. He contented himself with staring out the window, watching the dawn break, violets and purples dancing across the sky. The sun rose with pinks and oranges blossoming soon after.

Things would be okay. They had to be okay. He slowed his breathing, focusing on the sky rather than the scent of disinfectant. The steady beep of machines slowly fading into the distance. Closing his eyes, he could pretend for a moment, that this was normal. He was in a hotel, maybe on a vacation, in some city that wasn’t destroyed every few months. There had to be a place like that still out there.

A little chickadee hopped around on the windowsill, fluttering back and forth, before flying off again. “Bye.” Tim snapped to attention, whirling around to find Dick squinting out the window. Damian sprung out of his chair. “Bruce?” He asked confusedly, frowning at Damian.

Panic flickered across the kid’s face, and he recoiled, stepping back. “No. I’m Damian, don’t be foolish.” His voice wobbled at the end, and Tim’s heart throbbed painfully at the way Damian stiffened, meticulously shutting off any signs of vulnerability.

“Remember what the nurse said, he’s going to be confused for a bit.” Tim reminded, striding over to sit at the edge of the bed. Dick went back to looking at the now closed window. “Dick, you with us?” He leaned into Dick’s line of sight, trying for a smile, and waited for a minute before leaning back. “I’m going to take that as a no.”

“-tt-” Damian stepped forwards again. “Don’t bother him, Drake.” He spat.

Tim didn’t really know what to say, so he didn’t say anything at all. Damian climbed back into his chair, tucking his legs up to sit crisscrossed, his back stiff and upright. Tim grabbed his chair, pulling it closer to the edge of the bed. He placed a hand over Dick’s, rubbing a finger over his knuckles, taking comfort in the fingers twitching slightly under his own.

Dick was alive. He would live. Would recover. He hadn’t lost his older brother.

“His name’s Tim.” Dick mumbled after a few minutes. Damian rolled his eyes. “Tim.” Dick repeated, his eyes glassy as they gazed through Damian’s forehead.

“Yeah?” Tim lightly tapped Dick’s hand. He didn’t move from his focus.

“Tim. Tim. Tim. Tim.” He continued repeating Tim’s name, staring up at the ceiling.

“Why is he doing that?” Damian demanded, jumping out of his chair. Dick obliviously repeated the word, seemingly unaffected. “Drake, she said the operation went <em>well</em>.”

“I dunno.” He sighed, Dick probably had no idea what was going on, nor would he remember this. “Look, he’s delirious, he’s going to be messed up for a bit. He got shot in the head.”

“I know that. I was there. But if the operation was successful, then why-”

The door opened, and they fell silent, footsteps approaching. Roy Harper poked around the corner; a phone pressed to his ear. “Okay, he doesn’t look too bad, all things considered. Hey, you, kid, you should actually answer your fu-fudging phone.”

“That’s a dollar for the swear jar.” A little girl, Lian, he presumed, materialized at his side. She carried a bag with her and zoomed over to Damian. “Daddy says you like to color, so I brought crayons.” She grabbed a pack from her bag and shoved them at him. Damian looked mildly disgusted but took them anyway. “Say thank you.” Lian demanded.

Damian opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Tim glanced at Roy, he winked, doing his best not to laugh as he finished talking with whoever was on the phone.

“Thank you.” Dick replied, patting Lian’s head. His eyes seemed to find hers before darting away to stare at the ceiling.

“Not you.” She groaned. “Him.” She pointed at Damian.

“Thank you.” He repeated. Lian cracked a smile, giggling.

“Don’t laugh, it isn’t funny – he’s delirious.” Damian replied harshly, eyes narrowing. Lian shrugged, turning, almost sizing him up. She was only maybe an inch shorter than him, if he had to venture a guess.

“Uncle Dick is always happier when you laugh.” She pointed out. “It’s contagious.” Sure enough, a wide looping grin had materialized on Dick’s face.

“But we’re in a hospital.” Damian looked outraged; his hands balled in little fists.

“Daddy says laughter is the best medicine.” She retorted, crossing her arms. Roy tossed his phone (it landed perfectly in the center of the little dresser next to the bed), and scooped up his daughter in a big hug, sweeping her off the ground.

“Look, kid.” He looked down at Damian. “I know this is scary and it sucks, but my kid’s got a point.” He kissed the top of her head, prompting more giggles. “She’s a smart cookie, and this isn’t exactly her first rodeo.” Damian’s ears flushed, his face unchanged, but his ears beet red.

“This is not my first rodeo, and if you were more competent, than-”

“If Dick was a dumb-, I mean, if he was more competent, we wouldn’t be here.” Roy pointed out, speaking over Damian. Lian smacked his face lightly.

“Daddy, that’s rude.” Roy rolled his eyes. Dick started speaking in a language Tim vaguely recognized, looking displeased at the argument.

“Sweetie, I’m trying to make a point.” He set her down, ruffling her hair. “Why don’t you get out the coloring book and let Damian pick out a page.” Damian opened his mouth to comment, but Roy cut him off. “Look, you should see how happy Dick is when Lian gives him coloring pages. I think he’s earned one from you.” Damian closed his mouth. His brain seemingly compiling the information. “What she said isn’t wrong, he’ll recover faster if he’s happier, Timbo, you’re a bat-nerd, back me up here.”

“Well according to a study done in-” Roy held up a hand.

“Point made, don’t put me to sleep.” Tim rolled his eyes, remembering why he used to avoid hanging out with (some of) Dick’s friends. For now, he joined Roy in staring down Damian, Lian gazing at him too, an unlikely team up in a battle of wills.

“Only if Drake makes one too.” Damian miraculously relented after a few minutes. Tim nodded, peace from Damian was worth doing some coloring. Dick would be incredibly happy – these pages would likely be framed; it would be worth it to see the smile on his face. It was worth it now to see Lian’s face light up, as she rushed to unpack her things.

“Oh, and I brought Uncle Dick a stuffy.” She pulled out a stuffed elephant and placed it in the crook of his elbow. “Say thank you.” Dick replied – still not speaking anything he could place, and Lian smiled, Dick smiled back.

“What’s he been saying?” Tim asked, looking to Roy, as Damian slid to the floor, selecting coloring pages with Lian. Roy sat on the side of the bed, carefully leaning Dick forward, to get a better look at the back of his head. He whistled, ignoring Tim for a moment.

“You really did it to yourself this time, jeez Dickie.” He muttered to himself before turning back. “He’s speaking Navajo, he was counting to ten earlier, and he told Lian thanks.” Roy rolled his eyes. “Would you believe his pronunciation is always better when he’s like this?”

“No, that seems on brand.” Tim mused. “Apparently my French gets exponentially better the less I’ve slept.” Roy shrugged, and turned back on Dick.

“Quit rubbing off on the kids, you don’t want them to turn into you, yah? Bunch a’ weirdo bat-nerds.” Dick was apparently, not listening, and was more into petting the plushy.

“Zitka.” He replied, showing it to Roy. Roy patted his shoulder.

“Yeah buddy, I know. Isn’t she cute?” He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to Dick’s forehead. Something seemed to click in Tim’s brain, as Dick garbled on, fascinated by the toy.

“How many times have you done this?” He asked, watching as Roy leaned back, taking the seat next to the bed. He shrugged.

“I stopped counting after Blood fried his brains, back when he ran around in a V-neck.” Tim cringed, that was before he even became Robin. “Don’t look like that, he didn’t die.” Not that time, or this time – but things had been too close for comfort more times than Tim wanted to think about. Roy’s fingers drummed against the armrest. “I don’t know, Garth tried out the elephant thing a while back. It keeps him happy.” He pulled a book out of Lian’s bag, starting to flip through the pages. “Take nap kid – you look deader than him. Lian and I got this covered.”

Tim leaned back in his chair, tucking his legs up with him. He watched as Dick happily turned the toy over and over in his hands, blearily blinking at the world. Damian was quiet where he sat on the floor, inspecting each of the colors. By the time he put his first stroke to paper, Tim was already fast asleep.

#bad things happen bingo #batfam #titans #dc comics #batfamily #batman #batman and robin #dick grayson #tim drake #my writing #roy harper #lian harper #damian wayne #red robin #canon divergence #tw hospitals #tw anxiety #tw gsw #wrote this one just for me lol self indulgent

39 notes · View notes

lilyofthesword-writes · 3 years

Text

Hunter (Kurama Oneshot)

Summary: Kurama reminisces over his early human childhood memories while he waits for you to regain consciousness from your comatose state.

Pairing: Kurama x F!Reader (Can be read as platonic)

Word Count: 1,864

Disclaimers/Warnings: Short depictions of bullying, childhood trauma. Angsty but there is still some fluff to be found.

A/N: Set post-canon. This pulls in bits of Supernatural lore, specifically some of the creatures seen in the series, but is not actually set in the Supernatural universe. This is something I’ve had in my head ever since I started the series over five years ago. Feels awesome to finally have it written out! Hope you all enjoy!

Masterlist

Your breath was slow as it filled your lungs, almost as though it were fueling your comatose slumber. Kurama stood idly against the wall, watching over you in the hospital bed. He didn’t necessarily need to be there, but he felt like he should. For what it’s worth, he hadn’t seen or heard from you since you were children. He wondered if your eyes still held the same fire that coursed through them all those years ago.

In his younger years before puberty, he hadn’t been the most popular amongst the children at the playground. His bright ruby hair and green eyes made him stand out and not in a good way. While the parents found him adorable, most the kids did not. His mother, Shiori, always did her best to keep a close eye on him, but being a single mother presented various challenges for both of them. She was unable to catch every moment when the other children would pick on him, purposely leaving him out of their fun. His first true glimpse into humanity should have left him jaded, and it did, at least until you showed up.

One morning, while his mother was preoccupied, one of the boys shoved him onto the gravel, scuffing Kurama’s hands as he braced himself for the fall. It hurt, just not enough to make him cry. He was still a demon of the Makai after all. It would take more than that for him to show pain. He glared up at the boy, but his view was blocked by the small back of another child.

“Why do you have to be so mean?” Although your voice was quiet, it still managed to express more rage than a yell or scream ever could.

The boy’s retort died on his tongue. He could have said something. Any child would have, however lackluster it could have been. There was just something about that situation that made him turn tail and run back to his friends.

“You didn’t need to do that,” Kurama’s voice was just as soft.

Spinning on your heels, you swung around to face him. Your face was serious with the twinge of a pout on your lips. “But neither did he.”

You watched his confused expression curiously, the brightness in your eyes not dimming for a single moment. He wasn’t sure if he should thank you or just leave, still unsure of this being human situation.

“What’s your name?” You cut through his thoughts.

“Shuuichi.”

Your hand shot out to help him up as you gave him your name. He accepted it reluctantly. The warmth of it seeped through his skin, a warmth he still remembered as he stood by your side in the hospital.

Reaching his feet, he continued to study you. Why didn’t you act like the others? You grinned and squeezed the hand you were still holding for whatever reason. “Wanna play on the swings, Shuu-chan?”

He didn’t really like the nickname. Others kids tried to call him that and were shot down immediately. Yet from you... It sounded right, like you were the only one meant to call him that. He joined you on the swings every day you two met up at the park. When he learned you and your family moved in next door, the days you weren’t at the park were spent at one of your houses.

He wouldn’t be adverse to hearing you say it again. Kurama thought about what it would be like now that you were an adult. Would it still sound just as right? Would you even remember the nickname, or even him for that matter? You had only known each other for a couple of years. Did he make as much of an impression on your life as you did his?

The day you had to leave was one of the most upsetting in his human life, second only to his mother’s terminal illness he and Yusuke had managed to cure with the Forlorn Hope artifact. He had woken from a light sleep, sensing a demonic entity nearby. Then, there came a faint smell of smoke. Fully alert, he dashed to the window to peer outside. The smoke was coming from your home.

By the time he flew down the stairs and out the kitchen side door, the house was already engulfed in flames, no doubt due to the demon. He flung himself over the fence and ran to the large tree that grew beside your window on the second floor. You had your window thrown open when he started climbing, your choked coughs and sobs were engulfing all of his senses. You couldn’t reach the branch that protruded out to you, but he could close the gap. He could get you out of there.

And he did. He grabbed your hand and pulled you onto a sturdier part of the branch before the end broke off and fell into the grass below. The way you sobbed in his arms... He couldn’t bring himself to pull away and have you climb down the tree with him. No. He opted to wait for the fire department to safely bring you both down.

Shiori cradled the two of you in her arms after the firemen brought you to the paramedics for a check-up. Other than smoke inhalation, you were physically fine. Emotionally? That was an entirely different story. Losing your parents and the newborn baby brother you had been so excited for was not something you should have had to experience. You had stopped crying, but it was like you weren’t even there. The light in your eyes had dwindled to nearly nothing.

Over the following few days, you stayed with the Minamino’s. You barely ate and your sleep was plagued with nightmares. Your dreams were filled with the demon that destroyed your life. You had caught a glimpse of it before you were rescued but that was all it took. Kurama desperately wanted to help you sleep, help you live. His abilities had not yet amassed to their full potential, so the plants he knew would work, he could not grow. For the first time in his long life, he felt truly hopeless.

Your aunt and uncle, your only living relatives he quickly learned, were at the Minamino’s doorstep later that week. They had come from overseas for you as soon as they had heard about your family. While they were clearly apprehensive at the thought of staying any longer than necessary, they still allowed you enough time to say your goodbyes. Shiori embraced you as any mother would, full of warmth and love. When you hugged Kurama, you poured every part of you into it. You didn’t want to leave but understood you had no choice.

“Goodbye, Shuu-chan.”

The last words he heard from you echoed in Kurama’s head. He had thought that goodbye was permanent. It never once crossed his mind that you would find your way back into his life.

“Kurama?”

His mind snapped back to the present.

“Botan,” he greeted casually.

The blue-haired reaper was tentative in her response. “How is she doing?”

“Still dreaming. She should wake soon.”

The djinn Koenma sent him after should be dead before dawn if the carnivorous plant he seeded in the creature’s chest had anything to say about it. Then, its spell would be lifted.

“Good...” Botan stared at the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Did you find out anything?”

“We... We found a lot on her, but I don’t think you’ll like it.”

“Will it explain why she was there?”

Botan relented with a sigh. “Yes.”

Kurama stepped forward, gently swiping at the hair that had fluttered onto your face because of the air conditioning vent above you. “Then, tell me.”

She huffed and came around to stand on the other side of your bed. Gripping the railing, she watched your peaceful form. “Kurama... She comes from a line of hunters. At least on her mother’s side, she does.”

He glanced up at Botan before placing a large hand over yours.

“Against her mother’s wishes, her aunt and uncle trained her to continue that line. She excelled at it for quite a few years.”

No... Not you of all people.

“Why past tense? What has changed recently?”

“She started working alone after her caretakers passed away. We’ve found instances of her starting a hunt but not following through. The most recent was a small nest of vampires in the United States. They were breeding cattle to feed off of, never once having a drop of human blood. She... She wound up defending them against other hunters.”

Despite the short couple of years he spent with you, that sounded more like you. Kurama held your fingers so delicately as though they were glass, stroking your knuckles with his thumb. “So she was hunting tonight...”

Botan nodded nervously. “I believe so. It wouldn’t be hard for a skilled hunter to put together the pieces from all the news reports of missing women.”

Yes... The missing women found dead a week later after they had been reported, drained of blood with only a tiny needle wound as the culprit. Had you beaten him there only to be captured yourself?

“I wonder what you are dreaming about...” Kurama muttered more to himself than anyone. Most djinns preferred their victims to have pleasant dreams as they fed on their blood. Complacency lowered the chance of the human waking up and escaping.

Silence settled in the tiny room, tense and thick. Botan’s head hung low with her gaze still on you. You certainly did not look like a hunter by any means. Then again, your unassuming looks could aid in how dangerous you really were.

“You know Koenma will want to see her when she wakes up,” Botan’s quiet voice still felt too loud for the room.

“Yes... However, I would like to speak with her first.”

“Of course. I will leave you to it.” Botan left and returned him to the quiet of the room.

About an hour later, sunlight was just barely beginning to peak over the horizon. He had sat himself in the chair next to the bed, waiting for you to open your eyes. He had spent most of the time racking his brain on how he would explain everything.

You had caught Spirit World’s attention with this one. It sounded like you had been trying to atone, but Koenma still needed to do his job. Maybe, if he took a liking to you, then you would be more like Kurama or Yusuke and be assigned random missions to protect the three realms. Although, that may have been wishful thinking on his part.

He heard the sheets rustle ever so slightly. Your eyes flitted under your eyelids. Kurama surged forward, taking your now twitching hand in his. A dry, raspy groan left your throat as you slowly woke. Even in the low light, your eyes had trouble adjusting. Yet, they settled on him regardless. Confusion turned to recognition when you were finally able to focus properly, his original question being answered.

“Shuu-chan?”

63 notes · View notes

howtosingit · 3 years

Text

Fic: i long to hear the sound of you again

Carlos throws himself into work.

A missing moment from 1x09.

1.5K | Also on AO3

- - - - -

When he doesn’t hear from TK, Carlos throws himself into work.

He at least knows the other man is alive; well, better than just alive, actually. He and Paul have been texting a lot recently, and the man had let it slip that TK stopped by the station a few days ago, looking sore but standing tall on two feet. Carlos had read that message with a painful kind of joy, happy that TK was up and moving, but hurt that TK didn’t seem to have an interest in seeing him.

He’s not mad at the guy, considering Carlos was the one who practically ghosted him right before he got shot. And it’s not even that Carlos thought TK’s incident would magically change their relationship, or that they would suddenly be attached at the hip.

It’s just that Carlos wants to see him. He wants to drown in TK’s bright green eyes and stare at his chest as it moves up and down in time with his breathing. He wants to stand close enough to feel TK’s breath on his skin and the gentle press of his fingers in-between his own.

He wants to see the proof of TK’s survival with his own two eyes, if for no other reason than to rid himself of the nightmares that keep haunting him every time he sinks into a fitful sleep.

He doesn’t know how far to push, so he keeps his distance. He sent flowers to the hospital, and left a voicemail for TK to listen to whenever he feels like it. It wasn’t exactly how he imagined apologizing to the other man for his distance before the shooting, but it was a start.

So, now Carlos just waits, throwing himself into his job as a way to distract himself from all of the things outside of his control.

He picks up shifts from co-workers who need the day off, works overtime as much as he can. By the time he gets home from his shifts, he barely has enough energy to shove food into his mouth and take a quick shower before falling into bed. When he’s not working, he runs, pushing himself through his exhaustion until he feels like he’s about to break. It reminds him that he’s alive and here - that TK is too, somewhere out there. It’s all he has, and it’s enough, for now.

Michelle has been laying low for a while, and he can’t really blame her, but he checks in with her every few days to make sure she’s resting and eating and showing up to her shifts. It’s the least he can do, and taking care of someone else comes naturally to him, so he’s glad to have someone else to worry about.

It’s been eight days since he saw TK in the flesh, twelve since they’ve spoken to one another face-to-face. After a solid week of working himself to the bone, Carlos realizes that he needs to do a grocery run, having nearly cleaned out his pantry without even noticing.

He’s scanning the collection of protein bars in front of him, his brain only partially invested in making a decision, when he hears a familiar voice behind him.

“I usually go with the peanut butter banana ones, if you haven’t given those a shot.”

He turns, surprised to find Captain Strand standing behind him, a small smile on his face as he points towards the box of peanut butter banana CLIF bars. Carlos looks between the captain and the box, trying to figure out what to say.

The last time he saw this man, he’d been a crying mess as he stared at his comatose, possibly-dying son. He didn’t know when he expected to see the other man again, having been oddly fortunate not to share any recent calls with the 126, but the protein bar aisle of a Trader Joe’s was not very high on his list.

“Captain Strand, I…” Carlos starts, trailing off when the older man immediately shakes his head, waving his words away.

“Please, Officer Reyes, call me Owen,” he says, his voice firm.

Carlos doesn’t know what to do with that request. He’s not exactly sure how much Owen knew about him and TK before he showed up uninvited to the hospital, and he doesn’t want the man to get the wrong idea. This level of familiarity isn’t really necessary if TK plans to never speak to him again.

Something about his face must give away his inner thoughts because he watches as Owen’s smile drops, the man letting out a sigh as he takes a step closer.

“He hasn’t called you yet, has he?” he asks gently.

Carlos feels his breath catch in his throat, his palms sweating as a heat rises on the back of his neck. The reminder punches him right in the gut, and he wonders if he’s been this obvious to everyone for the past week. He’s tried so hard to mask the hurt.

Owen doesn’t seem interested in waiting for an answer. “Listen, son,” he begins, reaching out to rest a hand on Carlos’s shoulder. “It has nothing to do with you, okay? I promise.”

Carlos knows that isn’t true, now sure that Owen doesn’t know about everything that happened before the shooting.

“Sir, I don’t think that’s true,” he starts, his voice breaking against his will. “Before the accident, I-”

“Carlos,” Owen says, speaking over him. “Sorry, hope you don’t mind me dropping the formalities.”

Carlos just stares at him.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Owen continues. “Listen, I don’t know everything that’s happened between you and my son, and I don’t really need to know. He’s an adult, and even though he’s been through a lot, he’s capable of making his own decisions. I trust him to make the right ones.

“But, I also know that getting shot has left him feeling a little lost,” the man presses on, shifting to make eye contact with Carlos. “His mind’s in a hundred different places right now, and he’s searching for answers. If he hasn’t reached out, it’s not because he doesn’t want to talk to you anymore.

“I think it’s more that he feels like he needs to shield you from all of it,” Owen finishes, looking away. “If there’s one thing I know about my son, it’s that he’ll try to protect anyone from anything, and that includes himself.”

“I don’t want to be protected from him,” Carlos admits, his voice small as he bites down on his bottom lip. “I want to be there for him.”

Owen stares at him for a moment, his eyes wide, before he suddenly moves forward, wrapping his arms around Carlos in a loose hug, patting his back. Though surprised at first, Carlos mirrors the other man after a moment.

“I’m really, really glad to hear that, Carlos,” Owen says, pulling back. “TK needs more people like you in his life.” He pauses, before stepping back with a nod. “There are some answers that he’s gotta find on his own, but he’ll reach out when he’s ready. I know he will.”

Carlos hears the certainty in the older man’s voice, wondering if he can trust it. Not that he has any other choice, under the current circumstances.

“Then I’ll be here,” Carlos assures him, his heart feeling lighter for the first time in over a week. His gaze briefly slides over to Owen’s cart, taking in the contents. “Sir - Owen - do you mind if I say something?” he asks, tone cautionary as turns back to the other man.

“Sure thing, Carlos.”

“You might want to add a few bags of gummy worms to your list,” he says, pointing at the pile of healthy, possibly indigestible snacks that Owen has piled in a corner of his cart. “He likes to shove them in a handful at a time.”

“Oh, Carlos,” Owen scoffs, moving closer to his stash of treats. “Tell me you do not buy a bunch of processed sugar when my son is with you.”

“Well,” Carlos mutters sheepishly, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck, a smile pulling at his mouth, “I kind of can’t say no to him.”

Owen laughs, shaking his head as he reaches for the handle of his cart. “You’ve got it so bad, kid.”

Carlos can’t even defend himself, knowing that what Owen says is true. The man takes a few steps away, clearly planning to continue shopping, before he stops, turning back to look at him.

“Where would I find them?” he asks, his eyes practically twinkling.

“Candy’s down aisle five,” Carlos answers, his smile growing as Owen nods before giving him a wave, continuing down the aisle and disappearing out of sight.

The next day, when TK texts him asking to meet up on his next day off, Carlos can’t help but to wonder if the gummy worms factored at all into his decision-making process.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star #carlos reyes #owen strand #tk strand #I wrote a thing #tarlos missing moments collection

65 notes · View notes

haileyyanneupton · 4 years

Text

🍷drunk🍷

HAILEY UPTON X JAY HALSTEAD

UPSTEAD AU ONESHOT

masterlist | series masterlist

prompt: you’re drunk and walked into the wrong apartment and fell asleep on my couch. oh god, you’re going to be so confused in the morning

Hailey wasn’t one to drink more than a beer or two when she was out at a bar, but tonight she was alone, kind of sad, and ready to forget the events of the last few days. She had just broken it off with her boyfriend who of course refused to leave the apartment that they had been splitting the rent on for the last two years, leaving her somewhat stranded. Working out where she was going to sleep tonight sounded like a problem for future Hailey as she made her way into the bar and planted herself on a barstool, calling for a glass of whiskey as she took a swig from it and the liquid burned on the way down. One whiskey turned into six and eventually, Hailey was wandering the streets trying to work out exactly where her best friend Vanessa’s apartment was. Was it smart? No. But what other choice did she have?

Eventually, she made her way to what she was sure was Vanessa’s apartment, pulling a bobby pin from her hair to pick the woman’s lock. Somehow, even in her inebriated state, she still managed to successfully work out how to get inside, having enough sense to re-lock the door before collapsing on the couch. She was tired and she knew Vanessa wouldn’t mind once she learned about what her asshole ex had done; he wouldn’t even let her go back to get her things. Hailey was just trying to forget about him and go to sleep for the night as she collapsed onto the couch.

Jay had been asleep in his bed when he heard the squeaking of his front door and light footsteps on the floorboards of his second level apartment. At first he thought that it was his imagination, though his paranoia still got the best of him as he searched for an object he would be able to use to defend himself with. Slowly but surely, he tiptoed his way to his bedroom door and allowed it to swing open just wide enough for him to see the rest of his apartment in full view, his brows falling into a puzzled v shape.

On his couch was a blonde haired woman, her beauty still preserved in her semi-comatose state as she slept softly.

Jay couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. So, he wasn’t imagining things, but it was suddenly very, very clear to him that he was under no threat — despite the fact that she had totally committed a felony by breaking into his apartment. Sighing lightly in relief, he scurried back to shove the baseball bad he had been holding in his hands back underneath his bed and pulled one of the blankets from his bed, draping it over his arm as he headed out to his living room where the woman was sleeping. Her eyes — though they were closed — looked slightly puffy as though she had been crying, leaving Jay to frown sadly; he had always been deeply empathetic — the sight of anybody else being sad tugged at his heartstrings every time.

Ensuring he was as quiet and gentle as he possibly could be, he threw the blanket hanging from his arm over the woman and lifted her head up ever so slightly to slide a pillow beneath it, the smell of alcohol helping him put the pieces together as he frowned yet again — he was sure she was going to be so confused and probably even a bit frightened when she eventually woke up in the morning. Racking his brain for an idea as to how he could soften the blow for the woman when she awoke from her peaceful slumber, he went over to where his makeshift office was and pulled a piece of paper and a pen from his drawer, jotting down a quick note and leaving it on the coffee table before retiring back to his bed for the night.

🍷🍷🍷🍷

As Hailey blinked her eyes open the next morning, three things happened one after another another like a chain reaction.

First was the realisation of everything that happened in the last twenty four hours. The breakup with her boyfriend, the whole 'drinking her body weight in whiskey’ situation, and the whole 'having to crash at Vanessa’s apartment’ thing. She groaned as (most) of her memories flooded back to her.

Next was the realisation that she actually wasn’t in Vanessa’s apartment at all. The walls weren’t the same shade of white as Vanessa’s were, the couch was a black leather rather than the bright red one that her best friend had, and she was sure that Vanessa hadn’t suddenly changed the entire layout of her apartment. Sitting up, she took in her surroundings with a sense of panic washing over her as she spotted the piece of paper sitting on the coffee table, addressed in a way that inadvertently bought a smile to her lips.

To the really pretty girl asleep on my couch,

I know you’re probably really freaked out right now, but let me explain.

My name is Jay, and when you read this I’m probably hiding in my bedroom so that I don’t scare you. But anyway, you picked my lock last night and crashed on my couch. I don’t know who you are but you looked kind of sad and I could tell you probably had a few drinks, so I just put a blanket over you to keep you warm and figured it was lucky you picked the lock of the guy who finds this kind of hilarious rather than the guy next door who either would have shot first and asked questions later or the guy downstairs who calls the cops every time someone knocks at his door.

If you want to come and say hi or whatever, just come knock on my door. I’ll be awake. Unless you’re up before 8am, which I figure is pretty unlikely.

Anyway.

If you want to come say hi, come to my bedroom door. If you want to escape and pretend this never happened, that’s cool too. Completely up to you.

I hope this isn’t creepy or anything. I just thought that you were probably safer here in my apartment than wandering the street during the night which is why I let you be.

Sincerely, Guy-who-is-trying-to-do-the-right-thing-here (also known as Jay).

Finally, the third thing happened. The regret and embarrassment came washing over Hailey like a wave as she fell back onto the pillow behind her head, gluing her eyes closed as she let out a huff. This could not be happening. It had to be a dream, right? How could so many unpleasant things happen in such a short amount of time?

Hailey was just about ready to get up and scurry out of the apartment with her tail between her legs when she glanced back down to the note that the owner of the apartment — Jay — had left her. He seemed like a nice guy, and it wouldn’t be fair to him if she didn’t at least offer up a thank you. The silence in the apartment echoed through her head, the tension on her side of the door evident as she carefully peeled the blanket off of her legs and folded it up neatly, placing it down on the end of the couch. Every move she made was methodically planned out and meticulously executed — for what, she didn’t know.

She had always been the brave one. The first one to step up to a challenge no matter how big or small, the first one to speak up and be completely unapologetic about it, too. It wasn’t at all like Hailey to be standing there the way she was, pacing back and forth slightly as her fingers drummed against her thigh, yet here she was. In a stranger’s apartment. After literally committing a crime while blind drunk and now having one of the worst hangovers she’s ever experienced (which, by the way, she was sure was only being worsened by the the previous facts).

Forcing herself to muster up the courage, Hailey marched herself over to the bedroom door and knocked twice, immediately feeling her heart drop as every inch of her body wanted to bolt. Still, she kept her feet planted on the spot as she and the man behind the door suddenly came face to face. Hailey felt the wind being knocked out of her, their eyes meeting at the same time that she attempted to force out a million words.

“I am so, so sorry,” she said quickly, not giving the man a chance to respond as he instead stared at her with a lopsided smirk. Hailey was so in her own head that she hadn’t even gotten the chance to appreciate how remarkably attractive the man was, instead jumping to her own explanation. “I was drunk and I thought this was my best friends apartment. I didn’t have anywhere else to go because my asshole ex-boyfriend has decided to claim the apartment that I pay rent on and I just collapsed on the couch and I am —“

“Okay, breathe,” Jay smirked lightly, finding amusement in the woman’s rambling. “You don’t need to apologise — it’s cool. How about we start with a name, huh? I’m Jay, but. . . you already know that.”

“Hailey,” the woman answered. “My name is Hailey. Although you can refer to me as idiot, felon, dumbass, or all of the above if you so wish.”

Jay chuckled lightly — she was funny. He hadn’t expected that, though he wasn’t sure why. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll stick with Hailey.”

Hailey gave a halfhearted smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Anyway — I just wanted to say thank you. I’ll get out of your apartment now, and I swear you’ll never see me again or —“

“Wait, you don’t have to rush out if you don’t want to,” Jay’s words came off cooler than what they felt like for him. Internally he was screaming for her to stay, partly because she was even more beautiful now that she was awake and he just wanted to stare at her forever even though he knew absolutely nothing about her. She was intriguing — that lured the man in as if he was a sailor being called to an echoing siren, soft and smooth yet piercing too, all at the same time. “Do you want something to eat? What about some Advil, or I could drive you to your friend’s place — better yet I’ll go and kick your asshole ex out of the apartment.”

The blonde-haired woman chuckled lightly. “No, no, it’s okay. Would I. . . uh. . . would I be able to wash my face in your bathroom really quick, please? I won’t be long, I just — I normally take a shower in the mornings and —"

“Oh, you can totally take a shower!” Jay said incredulously, opening up his door wide enough for the girl to come into his bedroom as he pointed towards the ensuite bathroom a few steps away.

“I don’t have any clothes.”

“I can pull something out of the closet!”

Hailey smiled gratefully up at the man as she thanked him, heading to the bathroom as Jay laid out an oversized hoodie and a pair of track pants on the bed. Heading out to the kitchen, Jay figured starting on something resembling breakfast was a good idea, even if the very pretty girl in his apartment wasn’t going to have anything. The sound of the shower running in the background mixed in with the sizzling of eggs on the frypan that Jay had probably only used enough times for him to count on one hand as he stirred them around, grabbing out two plates before splitting what he had made in half.

With her perfect timing, just as Jay placed down the plate on a small table by one of the only windows in his apartment, Hailey reemerged from the bedroom. The hoodie he had left for her hung down to her knees and the sweatpants she had on were at least two sizes too big, but even with her dripping wet locks and bare face, she was just as beautiful as ever.

“I — uh — I made eggs.” Jay stumbled across his words as he gestured towards the plate. “I hope I’m not overstepping or anything. I just thought that since I was making some already for myself. . .”

“You’re not overstepping,” Hailey smiled gently, his hesitation bringing a chuckle to escape her lips. “I was just naked in your apartment — I feel like this is probably acceptable, regardless of how I got here. I learned how to pick locks when I was like, fourteen and let’s just say I’ve used it way more times than I care to admit.”

Jay let out a laugh as Hailey sat down, the two deciding to become acquainted with one another. She learned that he was a doctor for Veteran’s Affairs while she was a social worker working out of children’s services — she hadn’t exactly pegged him for the doctor type, what with his unbelievably good looks (that she was now able to appreciate) and all. Hailey listened intently as he told stories of his time overseas from when he himself had served, and although she could see the slight pain on his features as he recalled some of those memories, there was something about Hailey that allowed him to speak his mind to her without any inhibitions. He had never experienced anything like it.

Before they knew it, hours had passed. Hours of them spilling their guts about the most insignificant things that made up who each of them who they were. Hours spilling their guts about the tiniest details that neither of them would ever forget.

“Thank you again, Jay.” Hailey stood at the door, her clothes from the night before sitting in a plastic bag that Jay had offered the woman as they said their goodbyes. “You’re a really good guy. I’m glad I broke into your apartment.”

Jay couldn’t help but laugh, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants as his eyes cast downwards, nervous in anticipation. “I was thinking. . . “

“Mmm?”

“Uhm — Listen, Hailey . . . I really had a good time talking to you over breakfast. Would you maybe — uh — you don’t have to say yes but — maybe you’d want to do it again? I know this pizza shop — Bartoli’s — they have the best deep dish in town.”

Hailey’s lips curled upwards — she thought he’d never ask.

“You know what, Jay? I think I’d like that. I think I’d like that a lot."

thank you to @ruzek-halstead for editing and proofreading! 🥰

(i just used the tags from one of my other oneshots bc it’s usually the same people who wanna be tagged 🥰)

#chicago pd #one chicago #au #hailey upton #jay halstead #vanessa rojas #upstead

106 notes · View notes

serpentinesarang · 4 years

Text

Familiar

pairing: chan (bang chan) x gender-neutral reader

genre: no smut, married!au, emotionally heavy, lots of plot build-up/context description, slow burn, fluff at the end, second-person POV

word count: 2098

content warnings: themes of death, depression/grieving, lack of eating, swearing; this is a SERIOUS piece that may make you cry. please proceed with caution and take a mental breather after.

summary: your husband chan died a year ago, and life hasn’t been the same until you meet a peculiar stray dog whom you decide to keep.

a/n: partly inspired by the netflix anime film “a whisker away.” hint hint: australian dingo...

korean key:

⦿ sasaengpaen (사생팬) = crazy spy-like super fans, sasaeng for short; pronounced “sah-seng”

⦿ annyeong (안녕) = multipurpose word that translates to hi/bye and no; in this story, it’s used in the hi/bye sense. pronounced “on-yawng”

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

Preface

It happened a year ago. The crash. The sasaengs. The coma. The stroke. The doctors’ denial of life support. The funeral.

Your husband Chan had died tragically after a catastrophic car accident outside the JYPE building in Seoul when a group of sasaengs tried to take control of an already chaotic situation on the street. Chan had been rushed to the hospital, so bloodied and so internally fractured that he immediately fell comatose and incidentally suffered a stroke due to the bodily trauma.

You’d begged with all your might for the doctors to put him on life support, but they refused, saying he’d be vegetative for the rest of your life. They even sent an insurance liason up to Chan’s ICU suite to speak with you about having to pay for his life support as long as you continued to live, and you were just so beaten down by all the hospital staff that you agreed to release his body to the funeral home his parents had flown in to coordinate with.

And you were destroyed.

Your employer had given you three months’ bereavement, but you still couldn’t bear to go to work for four more months. You slept 12 hours on Chan’s side of the bed every night and only wore his clothes during those four months of intermittent crying. After you used up the remaining sick days and paid time off you’d accrued over the years, your manager finally terminated you for missing too much. The next two months were spent on the couch with no appetite and inconsistent sleep, the good memories of Chan continually flooding back to you at random times.

This was when you’d decided it was time to get your shit together because the scale declared you 15 lbs [7 kg] lighter; the circles under your eyes scared you each time you dared to glance in a mirror; and your phone’s mailbox had filled to its limit with messages from anyone and everyone offering their condolences for your loss. So three months passed, and you were able to gain back most of your weight, sleep more consistently, and clean out your social media.

Those last three months were the cleansing your soul so desperately needed, and for the first time since the incident, you were starting to feel a level of normalcy again. You’d even pushed yourself to get back into the workforce, and thankfully, this new employer didn’t cause a scene about your 11-month gap in job history.

The dominoes were falling back into place. Sadly, you’d felt compelled at one point to ghost the rest of Stray Kids because it was just too painful for you to act like you could handle yourself around them. Out of worry and compassion, they all individually sent you messages here and there, but you told yourself maybe in the future. After all, your life had disintegrated to less than dust, so you were your priority moving forward.

Now

Your phone’s alarm wakes you to another dreary November day. It’s a snippet of an audio message he’d left you long, long ago when he was away for a tour. “Good morning to you, [Mr./Mrs.] Bang, my beautiful angel. I’m thinking of you as always. Text me when you get this. Love you, honey.”

November 25th, to be exact: the one-year anniversary of Chan’s death.

You sigh, whispering to the ceiling, “I love you too, baby.”

You pick yourself up, go through all the usual motions, and head to work in the morning snow, trying to keep your mind as numb as you’ve been recently feeling. Perhaps you’ll do a little something once you return home, you resolve.

The workday passes; the snow continues blanketing the city; and nothing really good or bad has happened in the meantime.

You step off the elevator onto your floor of the apartment building. You’re freezing from the windchill, mindlessly deleting spam email on your phone while trudging in your heavy boots to your door.

Once you reach your unit, something at the edge of your eyesight causes you to freeze. You take in the sight before you: a large, tan and white dog lying on your welcome mat with its front paws extended toward you. Its deep brown eyes stare right into yours, and you feel all the air in your lungs disappear.

“A-annyeong,” you murmur softly, pocketing your phone.

The dog blinks in response, not moving his gaze.

You crouch down in front of the dog slowly, trying not to spook it. “Are you lost, sweetie?”

The dog emits a barely audible whimper, and you can’t tell if it’s sad or relieved to have been found. It’s not wearing a collar, and its abundant fur looks clean, like an inside pet.

Feeling conflicted, you purse your lips. “You must be... I’ll tell you what: you be good and stay here for me, okay?”

The dog exhales sharply before closing its eyes.

Wow, well trained pupper, you think to yourself as you rise. You spend the next five minutes ringing the entire floor’s doorbells, even banging on the doors of the units that didn’t respond to the bell. Each and every neighbor of yours denies owning a dog that looks like a Shiba Inu, and they all claim to not know anyone else who might have one.

“Fuck,” you hiss under your breath after the last person closes their door.

Returning back to your unit, you find the dog hasn’t moved an inch, but it must recognize your presence because its eyes fly open, and its head shoots up toward you.

“I guess you’re mine for now,” you address it. You enter your passcode and push the door open, pointing expectantly with an approving facial expression for the dog to understand it’s okay to go in.

And it happily trots inside, sniffing around the entryway while you shuck off your boots, parka, and other winter layers.

The dog seems to be waiting for you to finish because, once you turn toward it, it immediately turns around and saunters to the bedroom on the far end of the apartment. You keep up at its side and determine with a friendly visual inspection that this dog is a boy.

Approaching Chan’s old side of the mattress, he turns back to you and sits down in front of the nightstand, digging his eyes into yours once more.

Your brow furrows as you try to piece together what’s happening. “What? What’s up, sweetie?”

The dog replies with a heartwrenching whimper, angling his snout forward as if asking for you.

You pad closer and sit on the backs of your legs. “Will you let me touch you?” you ask him softly, raising a hand for him to sniff.

Oddly, he straight up disregards your hand and leans forward to lick your chin.

“Awww,” you gush at his sudden affection. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.” You stroke the top of his tan head, and again, the poor thing whimpers while leaning into your touch.

You scratch at the bases of his ears before cupping his jowls in your hands. “You’re such a sweet boy, you know that?”

The dog blinks rapidly, pushing forward again to gently lick at your unsuspecting lips this time.

Giggling and stroking his front shoulder areas, you say, “Ohh, thank you, thank you. I haven’t been kissed in a year, so I appreciate that, sweet boy.”

A moment passes, but you have to do a double-take when you notice the thick stream of fluid cascading from his shiny eyes.

You gasp. “Oh nooo, are you crying?” With your thumbs, you carefully wipe away his tears. “Don’t cry, sweetie. I did enough of that for nine months straight, and I can’t have you making me sad too,” you confide with the animal, stroking his head again.

He responds by standing on all fours and pressing the top of his head to your own forehead, and you go breathless again.

He’s so human-like... so emotional... you think, raising your arms over his body and hugging him. You stay there for a solid minute before he finally pulls back and sits again.

You sigh quietly, evaluating his expression. “I don’t know about you, but it’s been a long day.” You nudge your chin up to the bed. “Wanna rest for a while?”

The dog ever so quietly barks with its snout closed, as if in acknowledgement, and he waits for you to move first. So you rise and position the pillows on Chan’s side against the wall for you to sit upright. You spread your legs in a butterfly position, and without you having to beckon or give permission, the dog hops to the corner of the bed and situates himself between your legs. You notice then that he’s eyeing something on the wall above the bed.

The professional landscape shot of Chan with his arms tightly curled around you under a peony-adorned gazebo near a lake, the day of your wedding. You were looking into each other’s eyes with the sincerest of smiles.

You turn to glance at the framed photo. “Yeah,” you sigh deeply, turning back to the dog. “That’s Channie, my husband.”

The dog picks up on your change of tone and scoots forward as close as he can get, resting his paws on your upper thighs and his snout on your stomach. His gleaming eyes practically compel you to go on.

Placing your hands on his soft back, you continue in a strained voice: “He was taken from me last year, on this day actually, November 25th. He was so badly hurt in the accident that he went into a coma and had a stroke a couple days later.”

You pause, and the dog whimpers on your stomach, his sad gaze making your throat constrict and your eyes water.

How can a dog be so in tune with me...?

You push that question away with a sigh and bring a hand to rest on his head. “I never left the hospital. The nurses had to kick me out of his room when he passed. And I cried my eyes out for almost a year.”

Your eyes drift off, glancing at the ceiling and the walls while remembering your grieving process. “So now I sleep on his side of the bed... I wear only his clothes at home... and I shower with the same things he always did. He’s always with me, even when I’m not wearing my ring.”

Tears have started falling onto your cheeks, and you look back down at the quiet dog to find him crying again as well, his glassy eyes still intently watching you.

An uncontrolled sob escapes your lips before you mash them together, trying to keep it together.

“I love him so much,” you throw your head back against the wall. “I love him so, so fucking much,” you whisper, the hot tears falling faster now.

You hear the dog whine rather loudly, so you focus on him again as he raises his head. “He was my person, and now I have no one,” you blubber, using your hands to angrily wipe away the tears.

The dog replies with a seemingly uncharacteristic growl, its eyes still very soft in contrast.

“Okay, okay, now I have you,” you concede, catching your breath. “I don’t know where your parents are, and I’ve been alone for too long.” You pause, almost unwilling to continue. “Will you stay with me, sweet boy?”

He barks out a high-pitched yelp, spastically moving his paws against you so they’re digging into your abdomen now.

Cheered up by the dog’s responsive expressions of emotion, you burst into a brief laugh and scratch the underside of his snout. “You remind me of him, you know. Soft hair, gorgeous brown eyes, super caring.”

Again, he whimpers, very quietly this time. You tenderly kiss his moist nose. “I’ll call you Chris... because only I was allowed to call him that.”

Chris responds by licking your lips again.

Your random gasp makes him jump a little. “Oh my gosh, I bet you’re hungry or thirsty!” You try shifting on the bed, but Chris’s weight holds you firmly. “Do you want food?”

Chris lowers his snout, resting it on your chest now. He doesn’t make any noises, but you can guess what he means by this.

“Okay, Chris, I gotcha. We’ll stay here and eat when you’re ready,” you promise as you smooth his pointed ears backward.

...

I found them... if only they knew it’s me... I’m Channie, and I’m still yours, honey.

#bang chan #stray kids #channie #chan skz #chan stray kids #bang chan stray kids #bangchan #bang chan imagines #bang chan fiction #fanfiction #kpop #kpop fanfiction #fanfic #kpop fanfic #skz #skz imagines #skz fiction #stayverse #bang chan fluff

97 notes · View notes

nebula-jazz · 4 years

Text

Fictober prompt 28

ROTTMNT Donatello x reader

Note: Sorry I have been gone for so long! I have been wrapped up in school and I also know that this isn't my normal fandom... This is completely self indulgent because he popped on my feed on youtube and he was my first comfort character. And now I found ROTTMNT and I got hit in the face by my best friend on exactly my type... Intelligent, gremlin, cocky, and emotionally unavailable... So this is a complete callout to everyone who has the same type no matter the gender and please enjoy this drabble. And fully expect on several different fandom releases on Halloween including a oneshot for His World. But enough of my rambling! To the story!

You had been in quarantine for nearly an entire year and now your favorite month had been ruined by the hussle and the bustle of your closest aunt asking you to come to New York. Her explanation was that she was taken ill and she needed someone to look after the house and your youngest cousin April O’Neil, much to your distaste.

It was not that you hated your youngest cousin, opposite in fact you adored her, but you two never exactly saw eye to eye on most things. You two were so close up until about five or six years ago and then she changed and you felt as if for the worst. This change caused you both to drift apart.

Since she was your only friend and family member that got you; this distance caused you swirling into an unhealthy mind set. And you got caught up with the wrong people at the worst time in your life as your younger brother disappeared and your mom got distant.

Which lead you here, packing all research that you had gathered over the past few months since the shredder accident, your Bo staff, and other essential items. Taking the time to slide the delicate frames of your glasses up every few minutes. Your boss Baxter had called you a few minutes ago saying that he set you up an apartment and a plane to New York and expected you be ready for training with Rocksteady as soon as you landed. Thinking about it made you flinch.

Grabbing the metal case with your research, your duffel with clothes and toiletries, and your backpack filled with snacks your Bo and training clothes you headed down stairs. You kissed your mom on the head who was on the phone at the couch; gently leaving a large stack of cash that should last her awhile. You slipped out the front door and slid into a sleek car that Baxter had sent for you.

During the car ride you stayed silent, typing away at your computer, jotting down the breakthrew that you had made. Your specific specialty in his company was the idea of spirits and how to harness them, extract them, and even switch with them. Baxter had found out about you and what people and even yourself, at the time, believed as a silly project about four years ago. You had proven that spirits were real and that there was a possibility to do something with them.

He accelerated you through highschool and college, easily making you apart of a team and gave you everything that you needed for your research. You honestly didn’t care what he would do with it as soon as you had perfected everything in your now extensive project. All you cared about was getting your mom and brother back and he promised to keep the investigation open if you handed all research over to him as soon as you were done.

You barely slept on the plane. Fear creeping up your spine and turned your veins icey as you mulled over what was waiting for you when you landed. The training with Rocksteady was not normal. As he was a huge hog and the training was to get you faster, but it would inevitably end with a concussion and a broken bone as it normally would. Then Baxter would inject you with some green liquid that, yes would accelerate the healing process and you would no longer have any broken bones, but it would feel like your entire body was on fire and your back feeling like it was being ripped to shreds.

You eventually drifted into a fitful sleep. You felt like you had barely closed your eyes before you were woken up by the gentle but cold hand of Baxter. You were in a car now just outside of headquarters.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh MAh Gawd! Y/N! What happened to you?!” You winced at the worried yell that came from April. You had just gotten released from the lab and your head was pounding from the lack of food and water.

“Just a little scuffle just outside the office. Don’t worry about it.” You croaked out and offered a, what you hoped to be, a reassuring smile. You tried to swallow against the sandpapery walls of your throat.

You felt her soft but calloused hands cup your face as she looked at you. You winced as she prodded at the dark bruises on your jaw and forehead. She lead you to the kitchen where she started to clean the bruises and cuts up.

After several cups of water and an entire pizza, which you had devoured, she was now questioning you.

“So you are working for Baxter?” she asked, you gave her a quizzical look as you swallowed another bite of the second pizza that she had ordered. You had heard the slight tremor of fear in her voice and now it set you on edge.

“Yeah..” You answered slowly and pulled out your laptop. “He is funding my research. Take a look.”

You pushed the computer over and let her skim through the many pages of work as you dumbed down what she was reading.

“So... what you are saying is that you could put someone in a comatose state and do whatever you wanted to them but at the same time you can still talk to them in a spiritual state?” she summarized. With a soft smile you nodded, your eyes heavy from the long two days you had.

“However there are some side effects. With the trials that I ran at home it is extremely difficult to put them back in and more often than not their mind can completely erase one or multiple people from their memory. They will always remember the time they were, what I call, Ghost. There are still kinks in it but i'm pretty sure in this state there is a possibility to redirect this targeted amnesia to get rid of trauma.” You said excitedly.

She gave you a terrified look and excused herself and ran out the front door into the dim light of the dawn. You felt like you had been punched in the gut. Tears formed in your eyes and you fought down the urge to sob and throw up your food. You slammed the computer closed and stormed into the guest bedroom. You had honestly thought that she was going to be proud of you. She seemed genuinely excited about your research. But it was April, you shouldn’t have expected anything less from her.

A few weeks drifted by lazily and October was slipping through your fingertips. April was avoiding you, especially after you caught her in the act of trying to steal your laptop. So today, as a way to get away from the dreariness of the apartment and the fearful glances of April you were in the lab. You were in a loose hoodie and had a stack of pizza boxes next to you along with a large jug of water on your other side. You had just gotten done with another training session and were now working on a new test. it had gotten dark out and Rocksteady had volunteered for the new test.

You scraped your hand roughly through your hair in frustration as the program refused to start for the third time. You huffed in frustration, and looked up in alarm as the security alarms started to go off. You heard an explosion from behind you. Reaching down and grabbing your Bo you didn’t notice the jug being knocked over causing the computer to go haywire. You panicked as you tried to shut down the computer and the large machine pointed at whatever caused the explosion.

However you were too late to stop it from going off once you were able to press the emergency shut off just in time to prevent it from happening again. You heard a shout and roars from Rocksteady. you tried to reach for your more enhanced staff but were swiftly knocked out. All you saw as the world started to darken was green and a ghostly purple figure.

~~~~~~~~

That was a couple of days ago. You were now with 6 foot tall turtle ninjas. They had explained, with the help of April, what Baxter was going to do with your research. The person that you had shot was their brother Donatello. The genus out of the group who was allowing you to use his lab as you tried desperately to keep his body stable and fix his state with what little tools you had.

Your own paranoia had shot through the roof as any fast movement caused you to flinch very heavily. You and Donnie had found out that Baxter was injecting you with mutagen after a nightmare filled night caused wings to sprout from your back.

You stayed away from the other three turtles and only finding solace with Donatello. You both could ramble on and on about different projects you both were working on and the other would listen intently.

You hadn’t noticed how comfortable or how hard you had fallen until you reached the end stages of completing the ray that would make him right.

Neither of you two had noticed that you had started to flirt with each other. But everyone else knew and were eagerly waiting for him to return to normal. They were excited to see him finally kiss you and actually take you out on that date that he had been teasing you for a month with. April was happy to see you smiling again.

You didn’t realize how much you loved him or he you until you both were going over some of your note s to make sure everything was in order.

It was the end of November, just before thanksgiving. Donnie was excitedly telling you that he had been working on a surprise for you with Shelldon. That he wanted to give it you in person. And that he was excited to finally eat something instead of just watching everyone else eat. He was also rambling on how he was totally going to spar with you.

“i'm excited to finally get an infamous hug from you Don!” You chuckled barely paying attention to the notes and more on him. He laughed and he floated closer to you.

“I’m excited to give you one Angel.” he said cheekily. You glared lightly at him and the nickname that he gave you after your wings came to be.

You however stopped in your tracks as you read the small but major detail that you had mentioned to April all those weeks ago. The air ran from your lungs as a soft. “Oh.” escaped your lips.

“What?” he asked worried. He turned to the computer that had your notes on it and read through it and his face dropped. Tears welled in your eyes and the amount of hurt that ran through you was like that day that April ran.

And something inside of you knew, even as Donnie tried to think of anyone, anyone at all that he could possible forget, you knew it was going to be you. You stared at him tears running down your face and it was then you realized how hard you had fallen. And how much you will lose.

Two days before Thanksgiving was the day that was planned to fix him. You were in a room alone with his Ghost. You couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Here,” he said softly, and gestured for Shelldon to bring a small box forward. “This is for you... don’t open it until my eyes do.. ok?” He said leaning down and trying to catch your eye. You looked up at him, willing the tears back and smiled brightly.

“Will do Don! I will see you for that hug ok?” he smiles back softly and nods. He hovers his hand over your cheek, you lean into it until you feel the cool radiating off of him and you closed your eyes.

That unspoken ‘i love you’ rang through you head as you heard the machine wurr to life. You only stare at him as he floats by his sleeping body and you pray, you hope, and you plead to whatever god is listening. To allow you to have him, to allow him to remember you. As you slowly nod your head and you hear April press the button.

~~~~~~~

You try to stifle the sobs in your throat as you hear him and his brothers enjoy their thanksgiving meal that April and you had prepared for them. He didn’t recognize you as you sobbed in happiness when you saw his eyes open. He thought of you as a threat.

You carefully pulled out the small box as Shelldon floated beside you. You looked at him and he bobbed his head in acknowledgement. Slowly opening it you tried to steady your shaking hands. Inside was a locket, a bit larger than one you would find in a jewelry store. You carefully opened the locket and you saw a picture that you had taken with ghost Donnie and the music box version of your both favorite techno song. Engraved on the other half was the french translation of I love you. A loud sob ripped its way from your throat as you clutched it to your chest.

Donnie was leaning against the wall closest to where you had ran off too. He was watching his brothers laugh and eat with their father and April. He had heard sniffling from the tunnel and quietly escaped the celebration to see where it had came from. He was surprised to see you covering your mouth and Shelldon with you. He was going to call to his creation until you had looked at Shelldon and pulled out a velvet box.

He waited a moment, watching you open it and something inside. He had to nod his head to the song that played. He did not expect the loud sob or the wail that came out of you next. He heard his brothers stop laughing and heard a soft.

“They opened it...”

“Yeah...”

“Poor Y/N... I can’t imagine.”

“Why can’t we tell him my sons?’

“Because he wouldn’t believe us.”

“Yeah! And he already distrusts Y/N... and they asked us not too.”

“A broken heart is something that can kill my children. Especially with a love that deep.”

Donnie didn’t hear anymore from his family. And confusion seeped into him. What happened while he was out?

#rottmnt #donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello x reader #donatello x reader #april o'neil #x reader #tmnt

76 notes · View notes

starbuck · 4 years

Note

I don’t know who Armitage is and at this point I’m too afraid to ask

(Hi there! I tried to type out a normal answer to this ask but it accidentally turned into a giant essay so honestly, anon, you should be afraid and I apologize in advance. If this is really Too Much, here’s an Armitage outfit-rating post I made a bit ago that covers a lot of the same content and also has additional screenshots of him for identification purposes.)

I didn’t know who he was either until about seven months ago... Well, that’s not entirely true, but it was around that time that I realized all his different appearances throughout the show were the same person and that person was the infamous Mr. Armitage. You may recognize his name by the fact that he’s being shittalked pretty much every time he’s brought up but he did some shitty things so about 75% of the time, he deserves it.

But who is Armitage? Despite often being seen with a gun and hanging out with the marines, he’s not a marine himself, which is a common fandom misconception. Instead, he’s Terror’s gunroom steward which, despite its name, has nothing to do with guns (although he’s implied on several occasions to have the keys to the armory but whether this is a regular part of his job or a duty he just happened to be assigned, I do not know).

this was the shot that first made me notice him way back in October of last year and I had no clue who he was or why we were looking at him during the lashing

But what is his actual canonical significance? Although he is not a marine, he’s almost always seen by Tozer’s side. I like to think of myself (and the wonderful @rhavewellyarnbag) as the head archaeologists of what has been lovingly dubbed “the secret Armitage/Tozer subplot,” found only by closely studying the hidden depths beneath the surface of the show. I’ve actually been meaning to gather up all of my old meta and rewrite it to suit my current thoughts on the matter but, I’ll give it a somewhat abbreviated try here, under the cut.

The first time we properly see Armitage, he’s standing in armed defense of Tozer, immediately after Heather has been attacked by the Tuunbaq. Right off the bat, it’s a bit strange for a steward, who by any ordinary measure should be a nobody on the ship, to be protecting a Sergeant of the Royal Marines so that alone makes him stand out and I would argue that protecting Tozer becomes the cornerstone of his character.

In ep 6, while doing some of the aforementioned shittalking, Hickey says that Armitage had always wanted to be a marine, but was disqualified due to his disability, implying that he’s now somewhat of a wannabe or a fan but I think it goes deeper than that. In the very same episode, at Carnivale, we see Armitage assisting Tozer in feeding the comatose Heather, something he apparently knows how to do by this point and looks perfectly comfortable doing, which implies to me that he had been assisting in Heather’s care ever since his attack, in a similar fashion to how we see Tozer at his bedside in ep 5. And then, when all goes to shit at the end of ep 6, Armitage not only tries desperately to help Tozer save Heather from the fire but, failing that, drags Tozer out of the tent against his will, saving him from being crushed or burned to death for what was, by that point, a lost cause. Whatever Armitage’s original reasoning was for socializing with the marines, this is more than him playing out a fantasy of becoming one himself; his relationship with them, and with Tozer in particular, is personal.

Enter: The Mutiny. Armitage was already connected to Hickey’s whole situation via participating in Silna’s kidnapping in ep 4 and then not owning up to it (remember how I said he deserves to be shittalked?) but Hickey didn’t even need blackmail to get him involved in the mutiny, all he needed was Tozer. With Tozer on board for his own reasons, Armitage’s eventual participation in the mutiny was a given. Also unhelpful to any hope of staying neutral was Armitage’s involvement in the murder of Koveyook and his family based on Hickey’s lies, as we hear about in ep 8, after which Hickey implies within his earshot that he’d like to see the armory opened. One can interpret this situation in multiple ways depending on whether Armitage had figured by that point that Hickey was the real murderer of Irving and Farr and was now in fear for his own life or whether he was still convinced of the family’s guilt and was acting purely out of racism but, regardless, it’s no surprise that, when Tozer asked him to open the armory without orders, he complied (although he was, tellingly, unable to defend this action to Little when pressed).

And so, ep 8 plays out, Tozer’s nearly hanged (much to Armitage’s dismay if you watch for him in the crowd around the gallows), the Tuunbaq interrupts, and the mutiny is on its way. But wait! Let’s not brush over Armitage saving Tozer’s life for the second time by thwacking Little, who had Tozer held at gunpoint, over the head. RIP Little’s skull but also this is the second time he was bamboozled by Tozer and Armitage within one day so… “Fool me once,” and all that…

(Also, try to tell me that appearing out of the fog in the nick of time to save the life of the person you love isn’t the most romantic thing ever? You can’t.)

But now the mutineers are their own offshoot group and things are getting serious(ly bad). At the end of ep 9 we have the scene where Armitage tries to convince Tozer to leave Hickey, which I think of as an attempt to, once again, save Tozer’s life. Although there was no way for Armitage to know the extent of Hickey’s agenda, he did know that he was being asked to assist in kidnapping Crozier, a reckless move wholly unrelated to their survival, not to mention that Hickey was clearly going nuts overall. So, to me, their conversation rings not only of Armitage grasping at their best chance of survival, but also of him trying to get Tozer out of a potentially dangerous and abusive situation. But, of course, Tozer says no and, despite his fear, Armitage stays as well, and things end how they end.

in case it’s not clear, Armitage is the one who leans forward and reaches his hand out after Tozer is knocked out by Hickey :(

To summarize a bit more succinctly, Armitage’s narrative life is a tragedy marked by repeated failures and unrequited love with no solace or fulfillment and it sounds pretty damn depressing when I say it Like That but also, this is The Terror, so it’s really just par for the course.

His being motivated by something as wonderful as love, and love for someone as worthy of it as Tozer is incredibly appealing to me. Not everything done in the service of love is good but I am naturally more sympathetic to it than I am to the actions of those who I believe were only in it for themselves. Harvey once said (paraphrasing here, apologies!) that Armitage might regret some of the things that happened, but he doesn’t regret why they happened, and I fully agree with that assessment. That is to say, I don’t think he set out to do bad things or was indifferent to the negative effects of the actions he ultimately took, but I also think that he loved Tozer and would have done anything to keep him safe and I really can’t hate him for that.

In fact (if this ridiculously long answer didn’t tell you already) for all his faults, I love him quite a lot! So thank you for asking and, if you made it this far, have a smiling and happy Armitage for your trouble!

#sorry this took so long to reply to - i wanted to get it right #it's probably still Slightly clunky but i can't reread it anymore.. my eyes hurt #but thank you anon and i'm sorry if this is A Lot.. i just love him and have a lot to say #and i actually have way more than this to say but i just wanted to stick to the basics of his role in the plot as a primer of sorts #i'd be happy to answer more specific questions as well because i have a lot of really specific thoughts on him #thomas armitage #ig i'll tag it #it probably won't go in the tag but for personal organization's sake anyways!

72 notes · View notes

superbadassnatural · 4 years

Text

Happy for you

Summary: Sam has been in love with the only woman he’d never have. After many years of keeping it to himself, Sam lets it all out. Square filled: Drunken confessions Pairing: Dean x reader, Sam x reader (platonic) Word count: 3.2k Warnings: angst, unrequited love, (if you consider a small peck on the lips out of pity cheating, then) cheating A/N: This was written for @samwinchesterbingo. Also, this is my entry for the amazing @katymacsupernatural “Katy’s Make me Feel Challenge”. The prompt is bolded. Please, enjoy!

(x)

Sam had been nursing his beer for quite a while now. The hunter didn’t know whether to drown himself in a bottle - or as many as he needed to get himself drunk - of Jack Daniels or just have a couple of beers and call it a night. He sat on the stool bar, fidgeting his fingers and trying to keep his mind busy with the constant flirtation from the gorgeous blonde bartender named Olivia. The woman had been throwing herself at him since when he, his brother and his brother’s girl walked in after another successful hunt.

“Alright. I give up,” she sighed, throwing her hands in the air.

“Give up on what?” Sam asked even though he wasn’t a bit interested in what she was talking about. His mind was somewhere else. Still trying to reason what was best for him: comatose or few beers and another sleepless night. Maybe comatose was better, right? That way his mind would settle down for a little. Or not. Perhaps he’d dream and that terrifies him more than not being able to shut his eyes.

“On you, you idiot,” Olivia smacked the back of his head. “So tell me, Sam, who is she? Or he. I don’t judge.” she shrugged.

“What made you assume there’s a she?”

“So it is a she,” she licked her lips. “Well, Sam, let’s just say that after a while working as a bartender I can identify a man longing for someone he wants but can’t have only by the look in their eyes,” Olivia offered a sympathetic smile as she picked two shot glasses, filling with what Sam assumed to be whiskey. Both of them downed the liquid before she continued. “And yours are goddamn pretty and they keep drifting to someone from time to time. So I might even have an idea of who she is, but I really hope I’m wrong. ‘Cause if I’m right, my friend, then you’re so screwed.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he took a gulp of his beer, finishing it. “And I’m definitely screwed.”

As if it was an ultimatum, the bartender offered him a bottle of Jack. Comatose it is then.

“In case you wanna talk, I’m all ears,” she smiled, resting her small hand on top of his giant one. “Or in case you wanna forget, my shift ends in coupla hours.” with a cocky wink, Olivia returned to attend other customers.

An asymmetric smile appeared on his lips as he shook his head. Occupy someone’s bed is the last thing Sam needs tonight.

Sam took a large gulp of his whiskey and realized that was what he needed to numb the pain. Or at least a part of it.

“Sammy,” Y/N approached him, taking a seat at the barstool next to him. “I’ve just beaten Dean’s ass at pool,” she smiled, her eyes held a flash of excitement. “Don’t you wanna join us? Pretty please.”

Sam offered her a kind smile. “Nah, Y/N/N, I’m fine here.” He did his best not to sound rude.

“Aw, Sammy,” she sighed, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. “You seem so upset tonight. I hate to see my best friend like this,” Sam chuckled. Best friend. That was all he’s ever gonna be. “Care to tell me what has gotten you this upset?”

“Just having an off night,” he lied. He would never tell anyone, let alone her, the real reason he was like this. “You don’t have to worry, promise.”

“You sure?” he nodded. “Dean’s in the restroom and once he’s back I can ask him to sit here with you for a little while. This way you can talk it out.”

“No need to, Y/N/N, I swear,” his lips curled into a smile that didn’t dare to reach his eyes.

“Sammy,” Dean called. “You okay, man?” his eyes darting from the bottle of whiskey Sam had in his hand to his brother’s eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Sam lied. Again. “No need to worry about me. Just having an off night. That’s all.”

“Gimme that,” Dean’s hand reached for the bottle. Taking a swig. “You're not finishing this alone. Or you gonna get wasted,” he pointed out. “Want some?” the eldest hunter extended the bottle towards his girlfriend.

“Definitely,” she smiled, taking the pitcher to her mouth.

Both men didn’t dare to blink as her lips enveloped the ring of the bottle as her eyes closed. Her throat moving as she swallowed. Once Sam noticed something was waking up in his pants, he drew his eyes away and shifted in his place.

“Damn, babe,” Dean chuckled.

“Alrighty, Sam,” Y/N said. “Get your ass up and let’s see if I can beat you at pool,” she commanded, yearning a grunt from him.

“See, told ya I could beat him too,” Y/N cheered once she managed to shoot the eight-ball into the left corner pocket, defeating Sam in the process. “Please, boys, bow to your superior.” she chuckled as both brothers rolled their eyes.

“I want a rematch!” Dean exclaimed.

“As you wish, sir,” Y/N mocked. “But I warn ya, it’s gonna really hurt this big ego of yours.”

A half smile made its way to Sam’s lips at her silliness. He grabbed his bottle of Jack – which he had barely drank half of – and made his way to the bar.

Sam took another large gulp and his head felt a little fuzzy this time. From his seat, he was still able to see his brother and Y/N at the pool hall. As a wide smile appeared on her gorgeous and so damn kissable lips, Sam could’ve sworn he heard her laughter even though he was a few feet away from them.

Truth is the sweet, caring hunter has his heart wrapped around her delicate finger for almost six years now. Sam still remembers when he first met her. He and Dean were hunting down a Wendigo and she happened to be on the same case. She saved his and Dean’s bacon that day. And from the time her beautiful, wide eyes had first connect with his hazel ones, he knew it was a lost cause. He wanted to get to know her. To spend hours on end hearing her stories and sharing his own. He wanted her with every fiber of his body. Only Sam didn’t expect his brother to want this girl as much as he did.

Sam is shy. He’s a broken man who lost so many people he loved. He fears getting close to anyone and get them hurt or dead. Sam keeps his feelings to himself. He struggles to get words past his lips. He tries not to feel. He tries and he fails every time. His heart is pure and kind. As much as he tries to build walls upon walls to keep himself from getting hurt, they all crumble down at mere endeavor.

While Sam is a shy, sensitive man, Dean is bold. He’s confident and he never fears to talk to women. He trusts himself even if his heart is beating a thousand miles a minute. Dean confides his brother his feelings with ease. Dean would say everything that stuck in his head rather than stay all night awake because said woman can’t leave his mind. Dean is a good man. His heart is genuine. He’d never hurt anyone he loves. He’d protect them at all costs.

That night after they’d met Y/N, Dean wouldn’t stop talking about her. Sam only listened to his brother rambling about her features he had already memorized. Dean said he’d ask her out before they’d to leave town. Do you think there’s a chance she might say yes? Dean asked with a wide smile across his face. I think she might, Sam mumbled, but in his heart, he hoped she doesn’t.

She did. Dean took her to a nice restaurant and they had a great time. They exchanged their numbers and kept talking to each other. Every now and then they’d find a way to meet during a case or when things were quieter. With Y/N being more present in their lives, Sam got to know her better. It didn’t take long for him to fall deeply in love with his brother’s now girlfriend. He wanted what he couldn’t have. For the first time, Sam wanted someone he was certain he’d never have. And he wouldn’t allow himself to either.

Sam had known Y/N for seven years now. He has been in love with her for at least six. And Dean… Dean has been dating her for six years. Throughout all this time Sam has kept his feelings to himself. Every February 2nd — the day his brother and Y/N had announced they were officially dating — Sam’s heart breaks a little more.

Glancing at the other side of the room, Sam saw Y/N shooting a ball and sinking it in one of the pockets. Her gorgeous smile appeared on her lips, reaching her bright eyes. His brother shook his head. Sam’s eyes lingered on her beautiful, curvy body. She leaned and her faded blue jeans only tightened around her perfect ass. What Sam wouldn’t give for just a slight squeeze… But he couldn’t. She wasn’t his. She’d never be his. Before she could strike, Dean approached her as if he was teaching her. A sly grin appeared on her lips as she rolled her eyes. Dean’s body pressed around hers. His hands were now on top of hers, holding her cue. He leaned into her ear, whispered something Sam could not point. But by the look on her face, it was something cheesy. And by the way, her hips slightly rocked against her boyfriend’s body, it was something alluring. Sam dreamed of getting a reaction like that from her. Of feeling her body pressed against his.

Sam turned his attention to his Jack Daniels, chugging it down until the bottle was empty. He wasn’t satisfied. He was still feeling everything. All the pain, all the love. They were still there, hammering his heart. After many years of loving Y/N, it was only getting harder. The realization he could never have her setting in his mind. It took a toll on him. He ordered a few more shots. Downing it quickly so regret wouldn’t catch up. He could regret tomorrow morning when he’d wake up with a killer headache and would have to skip his morning run. Tonight he just doesn’t wanna feel.

~*~

“Oh, man, you really stretched your limits tonight, huh?” Dean patted his brother’s back. Just by getting a look at Sam’s face, he already knew he had gotten hammered. “Let’s get you home, Sammy,” the younger Winchester tried to stand up but his feet faltered. “Woah, easy tiger. Not so fast or you gonna pass out.”

Sam only mumbled something Dean couldn’t understand. He wrapped his arm around Sam’s waist to keep him steady, drawing him out of the bar and getting him in the backseat of Baby.

“Sam never does this,” Y/N shook her head, incredulous. “Do you have any idea where this comes from?”

“Not really,” Dean started the car. “I’m gonna talk to him tomorrow once he sober up.”

Once all three hunters arrived at the bunker, Y/N helped Dean carrying his brother inside. They put Sam on his bed. The man barely responding. He only stared blankly.

“Go do what you gotta do,” Dean pointed out to Y/N. “I got him, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “I’m gonna grab a quick shower. Call me if you need anything,” she half smiled. “Please, don’t go too hard on him.” Dean only nodded.

Y/N headed to the shower while Dean helped Sam out of his shoes and handed him his sweatpants and a dark blue t-shirt. Dean had never seen his brother drink this much. He had seen Sam drunk, but it wasn’t just that... He looked broken. Devastated. As if he had given up. But on what? Dean questioned himself. Guess he’d figure it out in the morning if Sam was willing to talk. Right now Dean could only make sure Sam wouldn’t choke on his own vomit if he pukes while in bed.

“You good?” Dean asked.

“P-peachy.” Sam chuckled as he slurred.

“C’mon, man let’s get some sleep.”

“I- uh,” Sam stopped, closing his eyes as he tried to focus. “I good. You go.”

“You sure?” Dean only got a nod in response. “If you need anything, call me,” Sam nodded again. His eyes never meeting his brother’s. Always glued on the floor. Dean noticed a few tears rolling down Sam’s cheeks before he left. He didn’t say anything. It was better this way.

Dean strolled to his shared bedroom with Y/N. The girl had already gotten out of the shower and was now only wearing Dean’s flannel.

“How is he?” she asked, folding her clothes.

“He says he’s good but he isn’t.”

“I’ve never seen him like this.” She turned to him. Wide eyes meeting tired green ones.

“Me neither,” he sighed. “But he’ll be fine, right?” Although she wasn’t sure, she nodded. “I’m gonna head to shower. It won’t be long then we can go to sleep. It was a long day today.” Y/N nodded as he headed to the bathroom.

The girl’s mind was racing with thoughts. She was worried about Sam. Worried that maybe there’s nothing she can do to help him. Worried for Dean for having his brother feeling this bad. As a way to try to calm down, Y/N headed to the kitchen to make some camomile tea.

“Sam,” she gasped, once she entered and found him there. He was sitting by the table. “I didn’t expect to find you here,” she started on her tea.

“Can’t sleep,” his voice only above a whisper. “Not sure if I should.”

“Why is that?” her brows furrowed. Sam thinks she looks beautiful when she’s confused.

“I… I… uh can’t stop thinking ‘bout you,” he confessed.

“Me?” Y/N was even more confused now.

“Yeah, you,” his bloodshot eyes met hers. “And… I c-can’t keep this to myself any longer.” His voice was trembling. Not only because he was drunk but the tiny bit of him that was sober was nervous.

“Sammy, what are you talking about?” Y/N approached him.

His eyes lingered on her body. She was only wearing a blue flannel of Dean’s. Her bare legs causing his hands to itch to touch her.

“It’s you, Y/N/N,” he sighed, standing up. “It has always been you. Since day one.”

“Sam, please don’t say it,” she shook her head. Her pleading eyes finding his wet hazel ones. “Don’t do it, please.”

“I- I can’t keep this to myself anymore. And it hurts me,” he stammered. “It hurts me every time I see you with him. Every time you run into his arms, looking for safety,” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “It kills me every time you say you love him. And every time you kiss him.”

“I can’t…” Y/N trailed off, her eyes drifting to anything but him.

“I know it’s selfish and that I shouldn’t feel this way,” he shook his head. “I was supposed to support my brother and be happy for him, but it’s so, so hard. I want him to be happy. And I’m happy for him. But I can’t be happy for you,” Sam rambled. “I just can’t,” an uncomfortable silence fell between them. Y/N felt her heart aches for him. “I- I love you. And I think a part of me has always been in love with you. I can’t help it. If people have their- uh- soulmates, I think you’re mine. Even if I’m not yours,” he confessed. His hazel eyes carried so much pain and love at the same time it amused Y/N. “I’m sorry. I- I really am.”

Tears started to roll down her cheeks. She dropped her chin so he wouldn’t see her crying and feel worse than he already was.

“Please, look at me,” he pleaded. Thumb lifting her chin as he caressed her delicate skin. “Don’t hate me. That’s all I ask. I won’t be able to live with myself if you did. That would be too much for me to handle.”

“Sammy, I could never hate you. I love you,” Y/N said, cupping his cheeks. A flash of hope appearing in his drunk eyes. “Of course I do. But not in the way you want me to. I’m sorry.”

“I know I don’t deserve you and what I’m about to do is wrong for so many reasons, but I can’t help myself,” he leaned, his breath hitting her cheeks. “I need to taste. Just one little taste.”

Sam kissed her. His lips found their way to hers and Sam believed he had never felt something this good. It was like he had found his way home. A tear fell between their lips. Neither of them knew whose it was.

Y/N felt so bad for him, she just stood still and let him kiss her. She wasn’t mad at him or anything else, she just felt really sorry for him. Besides he wouldn’t remember it tomorrow anyway.

They parted. Both of them with their cheeks stained from tears. His thumb wiped a tear away from her delicate face.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. Hands still holding her face. “I should probably go to bed.”

Y/N watched as he turned, staggering unsteadily on his own crumbled feet. He headed to his bedroom and she stood there. Paralyzed. She didn’t know how to react now she knew the truth. Her tea was long forgotten.

She wiped her tears, recomposed herself, and made her away to her room, finding Dean laid on his back in nothing but his sweatpants on his side of the bed. His wet hair spiking in different ways.

“You okay?” he asked. A flash of concern crossing his jade eyes.

“Mmhmm,” she nodded. “Just tired,” she laid beside him, laying her head on his chest. “Just hold me. Please?” she pleaded. Dean’s arms enveloping her in his embrace. His fingers playing with her hair.

It took quite some time for Y/N to drift off. Eventually, she fell asleep in the warmth of her boyfriend’s arms. The body of the love of her life pressed against hers. She was at home.

Sam fell asleep the second his face touched his pillow. He passed out on his cold bed. All alone — with no one to hold him and tell him everything would be okay —, sprawled, stinking of whiskey.

Tomorrow he wouldn’t remember a thing he said to Y/N. Not even finding her in the kitchen. Y/N, on the other hand, would never forget everything he said to her. She could now only hope that one day he’d fall out of love and meet someone new that could make him feel special and loved. That could give him everything she couldn’t.

~*~

Please consider leaving me some feedback! I’d love to know what you liked (and what you didn’t hahaha). You can tell via reblog/ask. ;)

#makemefeelchallenge #samwinchesterbingo #supernatural #sam winchester #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfinc #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfic #spn fanfic #sam x you #sam winchester x you

40 notes · View notes

amachja-moved · 3 years

Note

++[ confess ] // Niccolo, @free-us. WE'RE DOING THIS

@free-us (one-word prompts) (acc.)

------- Pulled back from the clutches of death - a miracle, an impossibility come true, a relief; over the course of the past few days, she had heard it all. But she, for one, has stopped caring. Perhaps this is what a near-death experience is all about: putting everything into perspective, pushing one so far out that when they come back, they stop asking the useless questions and focus solely on what matters. Or at least, that is the conclusion Sasha has reached since emerging from the depths of her half-comatose state. Being in no state to fight does wonders to the young soldier who has already grown old and weary of the turpitudes of war.

Deprived of her trusted rifle, excused from active duty for as long as the doctors would order it, Sasha spends her days reassuring Connie that she will be okay, listening to Kaya tell her all about life at the stables; confessing doubts and sins to an undestanding father. Perspective. Perspective is what she has needed for so long; perhaps she ought to thank Gabi Braun for this brutal, yet most vital gift.

And amongst her visitors, of course, there is Niccolo. Poor Niccolo - every time he looks at her with this pained expression of relief and concern, her heart both sinks and warms up in her chest, a vague sense of guilt at the thought that she is the source of his troubled mind. Oh, she knows why. Her legendary instinct seldom failed her; and who among them could ignore the looks, the smiles, the attentions - truth be told, she never failed to return them. In a world gone mad, and too wide, and too cruel, Niccolo has been nothing but a light at the end of a tunnel she had not even realised she trodded. She would ignore Connie’s teasing; but not the whispers of her own heart. Her only mistake, perhaps, had been fear: fear of starting something that risked ending too soon, fear of building something so fragile as love, when her days may well be counted - she does not want him to suffer, not on her account, but she’s a soldier and the outcome almost seems inescapable.

But then, her prophecy had almost come true. Her life, almost been cut short; and in what would have been her last moments were it not for Jean’s and the paramedics’ reactivity, all she could think about were the words she would have told him, had she had more time.

Words Niccolo, too, has borne on his chest too long, and almost choked on, because the bullet missed by an inch only. Words he, too, doesn’t want to keep to himself - not anymore, not after this. Not now that they have a miraculous second chance.

Speechless, Sasha looks at him; shot through the heart, only this time, happiness, relief, warmth and love are the only blood pouring out of it, threatening to burst through her chest as she processes the words. Oh Niccolo - so flustered, yet determined to get it all out, it’s like he’s about to burst under the weight of things too long left unsaid. A smile blooms on Sasha’s lips; her cheeks rosier, her heart pounding in her chest, revived, alive, for God’s sake. “... I know.” Of course she does. And she is almost certain that he does too - but all the more reason to say it loud, finally. “I love you too. So very much. I’m only sorry it took me so long to say it.” How easy the words flow, after being held back for so long. “Can you forgive me?” It is not just the cooking; it’s everything else. You gave me peace in a time of war. And I almost let it all slip away. “I think... I’m going to need your help. Getting out of all this.” For him. For them. To leave the forest once and for all, and give love a chance, and leave war behind.

#free-us #ic;; i'm going on an adventure (rp)#v;; tell the world i survived #ic;; he cooks. she eats. they're happy. (niccolo&sasha)#are we doing this? RIGHT HERE? RIGHT NOW?#sorry i had to make the joke #screw canon we will fight for niccolo and sasha's happiness #my heart is full of feelings and happiness #woops this got long

5 notes · View notes

bre-meister · 4 years

Note

I loved your greens drabble! I have a suggestion. With the greens from PPG again. Buttercup is heavily injured in the hospital (they are around 24 years old) and Butch just waits for her to wake up, apologizing he wasn't there fast enough.

Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long

Not Your Fault

Butch stared at the comatose body of his wife lying in the hospital bed in front of him. The steady beeping of the many monitors hooked up to her frail-looking body the only sounds he could hear - that and her breathing. Ever since he’d arrived, pulling a chair right up next to her bed to keep vigil, he’d turned his x-hearing in to focus on her breathing. The knowledge that she was still alive only gave him the slightest of comforts. Buttercup, The Toughest Fighter. She’d put up one hell of a fight against that three-headed ugly that had crawled its way out from under some oversized rock on Monster Island. Or, at least, that’s what he’d heard from her sisters because he hadn’t been there.

The Powerpuff and the Rowdyruffs had ended their long-standing feud years ago and they had been working together ever since to keep their crime-infested city safe (It still amazed Butch how one town can have so many villains and criminals - and that’s coming from an ex-supervillain himself). When the monster attack happened, the boys had been dealing with a robbery at the museum. If only Butch had worked just a little faster. Then, maybe, he’d be at home, holding his sunshine close, in bed, together, where they belonged without a care in the world. Instead, here he was in the hospital going on three days praying to anyone who would listen not to let the sun he orbited around die out.

She’ll fight this. Just like she fights everything and everyone else - with everything she has.

She’ll wake up and start fussing at us for making such a big deal out of it, just you wait and see.

She’d do anything to come back to you and she won’t stop now. We just have to give her some time. She’ll wake up when she’s ready.

The sound of his family’s voices floated in his head - his brothers and her sisters, they were all family now. Affirmations that it will all be ok, that Buttercup will come out of it even spicier than before...they helped make the whole situation hurt just a little less. But not in the way one would think. For Butch, it helped to know that their family was holding out just as much hope in this seemingly hopeless situation does make it that much easier.

Don’t blame yourself, Butch.

It wasn’t your fault.

You couldn’t have known. Don’t put this on yourself.

No one blames you so stop blaming yourself.

They said that a lot too. He just can’t agree with them though, it was his fault. If he had taken that robbery more seriously - Brick had told him to stop playing around. He was too cocky and Buttercup suffered because of it.

They flew directly from the museum to the fight after everything was taken care of and they arrived just in time to see Buttercup blow off one out of three heads. But she wasn’t fast enough in her tired, battle-worn state, to avoid the other two heads coming at her from two different directions. Butch remembers everything that happened afterward more in a continuous haze than a series of actual events. He’d seen his wife fall out of the sky…he saw the blood...so much blood. He remembered the rage filling his body and suddenly, he was being forcibly pulled off Buttercup’s unconscious body so the EMTs could do their job. Butch remembers being forced into a shower by Boomer to get rid of all the monster guts he didn’t remember spilling, and then rushing to the hospital to be by Buttercup’s side.

It’s not your fault….

Not your fault….

Your fault…..

Yes. It was his fault. Even if - no, when - BC woke up, he’d have to live with that for the rest of his life.

Butch looked down at the ring in his hand. It was simple - a solitary emerald set on a slim gold band. They had been in a jewelry store looking for a gift for her sisters when she’d come across it. She liked it, she said, because the stone was the color of his eyes. So he had returned later that week and purchased the ring and now, she wore it every day as a symbol of the promise they made to love each other and to care for each other. The latter of which Butch was obviously doing a stand-up job. She only ever took it off when they were on Puff and Ruff business. She said she didn’t want to worry about ruining her wedding ring while punching Mojo in the face.

“Hey,” Butch cringed at the sound of his own voice. He supposes he hadn’t used it in a while - the last time he spoke to anyone was hours ago when he’d returned to see Blossom and Brick keeping vigil. He had asked them to give him some time alone.

“Hey,” he starts again, “so um, I’m sorry I left for a while there. Boom and Brick made me, said I was starting to smell and I needed a shower so they made me go home and get some rest. I fought them though, I didn’t want to leave you.

“I picked up your ring while I was at the house. You always said you liked it so much because it reminded you of me; like I was always there even when I wasn’t. So I thought, just in case my brothers make me shower again, I’ll still be here watching over you, waiting for you to wake up.”

His voice cracked on the last word and he broke out into tears,

“I’m so sorry, Sunshine. You’ve gotta wake up. Wake up so you can beat my ass for acting like a dip shit like you always do. Wake up so I can hold you and kiss you again. Please, I’ll do better, I’ll be better but I need you to wake up.”

He dropped his head onto the bed, unable to look at her in that state any longer.

Your fault

Should have been faster

Should have taken it all seriously

Should have--

“Butch?”

It was a mumbled whisper. So quiet anyone without x- hearing would have missed it. His head shot up.

“Buttercup? You’re awake.” He kept his voice low as well hoping not to jar her too much and exacerbate her injuries.

She shifted in the bed, all her movements were jerky and week; so unlike the strong, sure woman she usually is.

“Hey, don’t try to move too much. You’re in the hospital ok? You got hurt real bad in that last fight.”

Buttercup made a noncommittal noise. Not listening to him about keeping still, she moved her left arm to stroke his hair obviously catching on to his emotional turmoil. Always looking out for him first. Suddenly the comforting act only made his guilt worse.

“I’m sorry Sunshine. I’m so sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? You didn’t put me in this bed. You have nothing to apologize for.”

Even injured and weak as she was her tone procured no argument. Hearing her say that did put some things in perspective but it still didn’t wash away all of his guilt.

“You got my ring, thank you.”

“Of course. I didn’t know how long you’d be asleep so I wanted to make sure I could be here with you in some way at all times.”

She hummed and smiled. Butch smiled at her smile. Suddenly, he jumped up, diving to press the call button on the wall near her bed.

“What are you doing?”

“You woke up! You’ve been in a coma for days, pretty sure the doctor should know you're awake. You need to be looked over and I need to call everyone.”

She reached out and grabbed his arm as he turned to leave the room.

“Don’t leave?” her voice was soft in that tone she only used for him. He smiled,

“I’m just stepping right outside the room for a moment; just long enough to call our family. Besides,” he lovingly touched the ring on her finger, “ I’ll be watching over you the whole time.”

She smiled again and as the doctor entered the room and began to check her over, Butch walked out the door to make his phone calls. Butch felt better. It would take time to truly forgive himself but if Buttercup, his sunshine, could forgive him, then he supposed he could do the same. After all, he’d do anything for her.

#ppg #powerpuff girls #butch #buttercup #butchercup #angst #butch is really hard on himself #i'm not that great at titles #i probably got a little too into this which is why it took so long #my writing #greens #ppg fanfic

24 notes · View notes

andrewmoocow · 4 years

Text

Steven Universe: The Fantastic Mutants chapter 3: Enter the Brotherhood (originally posted on July 11, 2020)

AN: Sorry this took so long to come out readers. Coronavirus, online school and all that jazz just had me occupied for a good while. Hopefully you've been keeping yourselves entertained in the midst of this quarantine; I've gotten into Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Scooby-Doo Mystery Incorporated, Cardcaptor Sakura, Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic among others. Anyways, let's get back, at long last, to the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning of Gifted Youngsters (or just Xavier Institute or XIHLGY since that name might be a bit too long for some) and see how the Crystal Gems and their new allies can get out of this one!

A few hours prior to their invasion of Professor Xavier's school, the Brotherhood of Mutants sat around a table examining the exploits of the Crystal Gems to get a good idea of what they'll be getting into. "Don't ya think we're in over our heads?" Juggernaut asked his fellow mutants while watching video footage of Lapis stealing the ocean. "I mean, one of them can literally use 75% of the planet to kill us all!"

"The blue one may have the strongest power, but she is also rather emotionally fragile." Black Tom remarked. "In fact, all of them are pretty unstable once you think about it. Insecure, dependent, obsessed, haughty, cowardly, hotheaded..."

"Quit with the psychology stuff Tommy!" Pyro exclaimed out of boredom. "What I wanna know is how could they brainwash three world-destroying monarchs so easily? Could the same happen to us too?!"

"Well, the boss maybe." Sabretooth answered. "Speaking of which, where is he?"

However when Creed wasn't looking, the master of magnetism was standing behind him with Mystique at his side. "Lemme guess, he's standing right behind me."

"How could you guess? Do you have psychic abilities like Xavier?" Mystique snarked as she sat down next to the clawed mutant. "I've been discussing plans with Erik for the past few minutes, plans on how to infiltrate these Gems. He chose the water-controller as the one I should masquerade as since it would require that I retain my usual skin color."

"He's got a good point, but why are we hunting these down in particular?" Avalanche wondered. "Is it because of how celebrated they became for allying with the Avengers?"

"Not quite everyone." Magneto revealed. "Our current ally Doctor Doom wants the child's gemstone for the purpose of creating his own army of half-Gem warriors. And taking care of them will be so fulfilling for me after Rose had left me all those years ago."

In the present day, the Brotherhood had begun their assault on the Crystal Gems, with their archenemies the X-Men caught in the crossfire and the Fantastic Four as well. The mansion was left damaged in their arrival and the Brotherhood now has the heroes surrounded.

"Now my friends, are we going to make peace by handing the child to me or must we resort to drastic measures?" Magneto purred threateningly, holding out his hand and expecting someone to shake it.

"Like we'll ever let you have Steven!" Garnet stated. "Just a few weeks ago, he was nearly captured in a situation similar to this one, and we refuse to let it happen again."

"So when I want to do what's right, you try to fight back." Erik pointed out. "Yet when those three Diamonds plotted to destroy Earth, you let them off scot-free simply because they were mourning a bratty child that was no better than them? The hypocrisy is quite strong here!"

"Can we just cut the blabbing about our morality and fight already?!" Amethyst complained while wriggling free from Black Tom's vines and pouncing on Toad, tying his tongue around his eyes to blind him. "Why are you always targeting me?!"

With that, the battle properly began. The Crystal Gems charged at the Brotherhood of Mutants with the X-Men and Fantastic Four by their side, tearing up the mansion even more.

During the chaos, Morph snuck around the battlefield in the guise of Garnet and tackled Sabretooth from behind, sitting on top of both his arms. "You little shit, get offa me!" Victor exclaimed in agony while Morph then took the form of Groucho Marx. "I'd have you cry uncle, but you don't really have one as far as I know." He quipped while pretending to hold a big cigar.

Meanwhile Steven & Connie had formed into Stevonnie to gain a better advantage over Magneto, but he used psionic shields against their sword. "Gem fusion! I remember that quite well!" the master of magnetism recalled. "Garnet and Amethyst fused much like you to tear Auschwitz apart."

"Auschwitz?! You mean the Nazi concentration camp?" Stevonnie asked. "You must've been one of the Jews locked up there, right?"

"Indeed, me and my parents as well." Erik answered. "But alas, I wasn't one of the lucky ones."

It was October 7, 1944, towards the end of World War II when Erik's mutant powers awakened. When his mother was heartlessly shot dead by the scientist Klaus Schmidt, Erik promptly went berserk with a loud cry of "NEIN!" followed by manipulating every metallic object in the room, even crushing a pair of army helmets and the heads of the Nazis wearing them.

Klaus was excited at Erik's potential, but his joy turned to fear when a loud crash was heard before a massive purple flail burst through the roof of his office. "Mein gott." The mutant ally of the Third Reich muttered in awe of Sugilite. "Hey small fry!" the brutish fusion grinned while grabbing Schmidt by the collar with two large fingers. "Why don't you try picking on someone your own warped fascist government?!"

"Please let me go!" Klaus begged for mercy. With a toothy smirk, Sugilite gave her word and dropped the man back through the hole made in his roof, landing Klaus on his desk and making him too injured to get up. "Puny Nazi." Sugilite sneered before separating into Garnet and Amethyst.

"Bitte, hilf mir." The boy who would become Magneto croaked while crawling out from underneath the rubble, mildly injured but thankfully not comatose. "Bunte damen, hilf!"

Unfortunately, his voice was too hoarse for anyone around to hear. Not even the Nazis carrying away the bodies of his mother and Klaus were able to pay attention to the young mutant. "Is anyone else in here?" the voice of Rose Quartz called out as she stepped into the ruined office. However, she was able to find a certain young man pinned under pieces of ceiling. "Are you okay young man?"

Still hoarse, Erik was unable to give his name to the Gem. "Hallo, mein namen ist Rosenquartz." Rose introduced herself in some sloppy German. "Kannst du mich verstehen?"

"Rose!" the commanding tone of Captain America distracted her for a bit. "You have to come with me, they're bringing reinforcements from HYDRA!" he urged the Crystal Gem leader. With a small gasp, Rose turned back to Erik with some comforting words. "Don't worry little one." She assured him in English. "I'll be back for you soon."

But unfortunately for Erik, she never did.

"So you're hunting us down partially because Rose forgot about you?" Stevonnie asked. "Honestly, I'm not really surprised."

"I remember what happened that day!" Pearl exclaimed. "Rose couldn't come back for you because she was poofed during the battle and we had to retreat. I am truly sorry we were unable to make do on her promise."

"Sorry just won't cut it!" Magneto boomed, pinning Pearl to a wall with a steel beam using his powers."And no matter how much she tried to make amends when we met again, I still never forgot."

Nearly twenty years later in 1963, the Crystal Gems were touring the city on a sunny day when they found a large group of people gathered before a stage, where a man made a speech. "What are those guys doing?" Amethyst asked her fellow Crystal Gems. "I'm not sure, but I believe we should get a better look." Garnet answered.

As the Crystal Gems blended into the rather blasé crowd, the man continued speaking. "Despite the fact that you lauded such beings as the late Captain America, you also hypocritically look down upon mutants for possessing similar abilities."

"Uh actually sir," a young news reporter with a fake toothbrush mustache spoke up. "There is a clear difference. Captain America was given his powers by science to help win the war. Mutants on the other hand were born with their powers that could go out of control if pushed too far."

"Did anyone ask for your opinion boy?" the man boomed as he glared at the reporter. "Please don't take it out on me sir, I'm just a young reporter!" the newsboy nervously squeaked and then high-tailed it out of there. "But thanks for the story menace!"

"Hmph, children." The speaker rolled his eyes before returning to his speech, or he would've had he not found a familiar face joining his audience. "Wait, I remember you!" he shouted. Using his magnetic abilities, he pushed the spectators away by forming a path straight to Rose using the steel fence that once separated them. "Rose Quartz. How have you been coping with the captain's demise?"

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Rose asked the mutant. "Of course you'd forget about me." He replied. "I am known as Magneto, the master of magnetism! But I'm sure you'd at least remember me calling myself Erik."

"Oh my goodness, Erik?!" Rose exclaimed. "I am so sorry I didn't come back to you like I promised! There was HYDRA coming for us at Auschwitz, I just didn't have time and-"

"I believe that's enough!" Magneto roared before he proceeded to use the fences against Rose. "You have forgotten me at the camp, and now I shall make sure everyone forgets you!" He tossed the fences at the Gem, but Garnet & Pearl quickly deflected them. "Stay away from her!" Pearl called. "Amethyst, get everyone out of here while we take this one on!"

Amethyst gave a comical salute before she rounded up all the human spectators with her whip and dragged them to safety. "I see how it is." Magneto boomed. "You are just like all of them."

"No, you don't understand Magneto!" Garnet stated. "We've actually met and fought alongside a few mutants before! There was this Canadian one during the war, and we even met En Sabah Nur as well! The Crystal Gems value all life on Earth, whether they be ordinary humans or otherwise!"

"You can try to rope yourself into my good graces all you want Gems!" Erik growled. "Because nothing can ever change the past!"

"That fateful battle was how we first met Xavier. He had an older team of X-Men that saved us from him." Amethyst recalled. "Speaking of which, where could they be now?"

"Wrong time, wrong place!" Sunspot exclaimed while he fired a blast of solar energy at Juggernaut, who was unfazed. "Could this get any worse today?!"

"As a matter of fact, it can." Mystique replied sharply, snapping her fingers to summon a pair of massive blue and purple robots that towered over pretty much everyone. "Pink gem detected, pink gem detected!" the machines noted in unison. "Bring boy to Doom immediately!"

"Sentinels?!" Jean exclaimed. "And it seems this time, they've been modified to hunt him down!" Emma replied as the Sentinels held out their hands to trap Steven in a forcefield. "Guys, a little help?" he called out from inside his prison. "I can't seem to get out!"

"STEVEN!" the Crystal Gems screamed while the Sentinels slowly took off into the sky with the boy in tow. "Don't worry Steven, I'll save you!" Kitty exclaimed. "Storm, give me a boost!"

"You got it!" Storm replied, grabbing the younger mutant by the waist and lifting her up high with her flight abilities. When she was let go, Kitty leaped at the Sentinels and used her phasing powers to pass through the forcefield to rescue Steven. "Don't worry little guy, I got you!"

"Thanks Kitty, but I think we might be too late." Steven thanked sorrowfully, making his new friend look up to discover that the Sentinels were headed for a large airship above them. "Aw crud." Kitty smacked her face in irritation. "Guess I walked into that one."

"Now they got Kitty too!" Scott shouted. "Yeah, I think we got the picture!" Lapis said. "Can't any of you fly up and save them?!" Morph suggested. "You seem to love ignoring obvious solutions!"

Lapis rocketed into the air as she was joined by Angel, Storm, Firestar and Human Torch with intents to rescue Steven & Kitty, but unfortunately they were quickly shot down by the Sentinels, still slowly making their way inside the Brotherhood's vessel and leaving the other heroes behind.

"Let this be a lesson to all of you Crystal Gems." Magneto declared. "You may think just saying sorry will instantly make everything better, but time will never make people forget." He surrounded his Brotherhood in his forcefield and lifted them all up to his ship. When the villains got inside, the ship sped away from the destroyed mansion.

"I can't believe we lost him, just like that." Pearl muttered while on the verge of tears. However, Reed was there to put a comforting rubber hand on her shoulder. "Don't fret, I think I might know where they're heading." Mister Fantastic declared. "They're working with one of our greatest enemies known as Doctor Doom, which means their next destination will be his kingdom of Latveria."

"Latveria? I've read about that place." Connie replied. "Very good that you know about this place Fraulein Connie." Colossus complimented her. "But still, the combined forces of Doom and Magneto might need more than just our three teams here."

"I think our first step would be calling the Avengers." Peridot suggested. "But they agreed to let us solve our own problems unless it was absolutely necessary we needed their help." Garnet responded. "Maybe at least a few of their reserve members would be useful, but not the whole team."

"I do know someone who can help us, but I don't think a few of us are going to like it." Colossus announced, much to Wolverine's irritation. "You don't mean?" Logan growled. "Da, exactly." Piotr replied with a nod and then he turned to Connie. "Connie, the X-Men now have a very special job for you."

"Whatever it is Mr. Colossus, the Crystal Temps will do what we can!" Connie said exuberantly as Peridot, Lapis, Bismuth and Nephrite assembled behind her with goofy grins on their faces.

"I admire your optimism malen'kiy. And please, call me Piotr." Colossus continued. "I cannot believe I am saying this, but we need you to find for us," he ordered her. "Deadpool!"

Wolverine giving a loud aggravated moan followed this up.

Well, this sure took a while, hasn't it?

Bitch, a while doesn't even cut it!

Wait, Deadpool?! How did you get here?

I came here to yell at you for prolonging my long-awaited proper debut for months now! Well I've had it up to here with your lazy-as-shit behavior! Next chapter, you better let me help you out or I'm taking that "ANDY ONLY" folder on your laptop for myself!

You monster, I worked hard to build up that collection! Okay fine, you can help in parts. Deal?

Deal! And what are you still doing here? Get the hell outta here until next chapter, The Deadpool and Peridot Show! Damn, that chapter title really rolls off the tongue.

17 notes · View notes

nomadicbeard · 5 years

Note

I've never read the comics so can you tell me about the Oath and the Confession thing so I can visualize RDJ n Chris (daydreaming about them helps calm my anxiety no lie)

oh boy oh boy I can do you one better I can give you the full glorious panels combined with the backstory. The Confession and The Oath are so unbelievably important to any stevetony shipper, as it basically confirms that the two of them are so irrevocably in love with each other. No I’m not even exaggerating, the word love is explicitly used, but we’ll get to that.

So The Confession was a coda to the main civil war arc in the comics in 616 (the ending is much worse than MCU civil war–Steve almost kills Tony but can’t bring his shield down at the last minute, Tony arrests Steve, Steve dies on the courthouse steps, taken down by a sniper on the day of his trial) It basically of Tony talking to Steve’s dead body and confessing his love for Steve the fact that Steve’s death is the one thing that he was always trying to prevent with all the shit that went down in Civil War. The Confession is a pretty big deal for stevetonies because it’s basically the thing that kickstarted this entire fandom way back in the 00s. The sixth ever stevetony fic was uploaded to Ao3 in August 2007 and is a long and glorious masterpiece that is a highly recommended read and is basically 90k of dealing with the fallout from the Confession (and in context of the ship, cemented Steve and Tony’s characterisation in fic forever, but that’s a whole different post).

The only other context you need for the panel is the last conversation between Tony and Steve (also included in the volume of The Confession) where Steve asks Tony “was it worth it?” and Tony turns away and responds “well you’re a sore loser Captain America”. These are the last words they say to each other before Steve is shot on the courthouse steps. There are a bunch of other things in the issue, like Tony’s “I was willing to get into bed with people we dislike” which directly contrasts with something Carol says to a (resurrected) Steve later, “it sounds like both of you (Steve and Tony) got into bed with the wrong people”. I’m not a huge comics buff (I mainly just keep up from what’s going on through fic lmao) but the Confession is super short and so iconic in stevetony history that even if you have no intention of ever reading the comics, I’d still recommend you give it a read.

Without further ado, here is the crucial panel:

There’s a general consensus among fandom that Tony meant to say something along the lines of “I love you” with that long agonising build-up but chickened out at the last second.

There it is…the panel to launch a thousand fics but then Marvel gifted us once more. In the middle of the frankly awful Hydra Cap arc (Steve is ‘reborn’ but comes back thinking he’s a HYDRA agent and spends the entirety of Civil War II (this time a conflict between Carol and Tony) guiding the team into destruction, eventually resulting in Tony in a coma) we get, 10 years after the release of The Confession: The Oath.

It was even marketed as a counterpart to The Confession, there’s even deliberate visual parallels between the two.

But this time, it’s Steve talking to Tony’s comatose body. And you have to bear in mind that this is evil!Steve. He’s angry, he’s furious that Tony isn’t around and he’s begging and taunting Tony, wake up, come fight me, just wake up.

Yeah and then evil!Steve starts spilling all of good!Steve’s secrets and uh…he has quite an important one to get off his chest.

“Every thought he ever had about you” seems weirdly intimate or is that just me

So yeah! This is The Oath and also where my otp tag otp: he loved you comes from. You may also have seen otp: it wasn’t worth it tags in conjunction with stevetony, so no it’s not us regretting our shipping choices, it all stems directly from the Confession.

So we know these two are desperately in love with each other, now we just need them to both be awake to hear it.

For real though we were robbed of a re-enactment of The Confession by RDJ that’s an automatic Oscar right there.

#stony #stevetony #steve rogers #tony stark #616 #stevetony history y'all #the confession #the oath #civil war #captain america #iron man #otp: he loved you #ask #anon #answered

1K notes · View notes

sebeth · 4 years

Text

Earth’s Mightiest Heroes: Breakout

Warning, Spoilers Ahead…

Avengers: Earth’s Mightiest Heroes Episodes 1 &2: Breakout.

Avengers: Earth’s Mightiest Heroes is one of my favorite hero cartoons. It ranks up there with Young Justice, Justice League Unlimited, and Batman: Brave and the Bold. I love all these series for the same reason: the creators realize the DC and Marvel Universe have thousands of characters and all should be featured!

We open with Iron Man interrupting a weapons exchange between A.I.M. and Lucia Von Bardas.

Lucia Von Bardas is a rather obscure character. She is the Prime Minister of Latveria and appeared in the “Secret War” mini-series by Brian Michael Bendis and Gabrielle Del’Otto.

Is the weapons deal taking place in Latveria? If so, Tony legally can’t do anything about it.

Tony’s “Unfortunately some of it has my name on it” comment indicates he’s started his “Armor Wars” campaign against villains stealing his tech. It would also explain why Tony’s invading Latveria to reclaim/neutralize his tech. If you haven’t read the classic “Armor Wars” storyline from the 1980s, you should give it a shot. Great storyline where Tony goes to extremes to take back his technology.

I love how unimpressed Lucia is with Tony’s posturing – she’s all “whatever”! Let’s be real, Lucia’s boss is Doctor Doom – she’s heard actual scary threats and seen said threats executed. Tony just doesn’t measure up in the intimidation factor,

We switch to the “Cube” where Doctor Samson patrols the corridors of a prison. We get glimpses of the Wrecker, Zzzax, and the Absorbing Man.

Doctor Samson interviews an imprisoned Bruce Banner and notes that there hasn’t been a “Hulk incident” in 36 hours.

Samson informs us the Cube is the “most advanced gamma radiation research facility” on the planet. Banner warns the Cube is a “gamma bomb” waiting to happen.

Why are the Wrecker, the Absorbing Man and Zzzax contained in the Cube if its purpose is gamma radiation research? The first two villains are the result of Asgardian magic and Zzzax was created by a terrorist act that didn’t involve gamma radiation.

Balder teleports to Thor in New York City. Odin has entered the Odinsleep and would like Thor to supervise Asgard while he’s comatose. Thor reacts with as much enthusiasm as teenager told to mow the front lawn.

Thor ditches Balder to first save and then flirt with Jane Foster who is a paramedic in this universe.

Iron Man lands at the Vault and deposits the A.I.M. henchmen with SHIELD agent Jimmy Woo.

The Vault was located in Colorado in the comic book verse and based on the mountains I assume its still located in Colorado in the cartoon verse.

Jimmy Woo is most famous for being a member of the Agents of Atlas team.

Jimmy asks Tony to look over the Vault’s security because there was an “incident last week”. Tony tells Jimmy to schedule an appointment with Pepper because “I’m sure whatever it is can wait”. Not so much, Tony, not so much.

Hank Pym is the creator, and apparently the therapist, of the “Big House”. A shrunken prison located in the SHIELD Helicarrier. Ultron robots act as security guards.

Mad Thinker taunts Pym that “something is about to happen” but refuses to divulge details.

SHIELD agent Maria Hill asks the Wasp if she and Pym have considered Fury’s offer to become agents of SHIELD. Janet is for the idea but Hank is against it. The duo walks past Black Widow in the hall. Janet asks who the Widow is but is told “she’s classified”.

Power fluctuations occur throughout the multiple prisons and the Helicarrier. We see Hawkeye imprisoned in a cell in the Vault.

The Vault is the first prison to lose complete power. Inmates released from the cells include the Blizzard and a monocle man that I’m assuming is Baron Von Strucker.

The Cube goes down next. Zzzax, the Leader, the Wrecker, and Absorbing Man are freed.

The Big House is the third to go down, causing it to expand to its regular size and decimate the Helicarrier. The Big House now has numerous releases: Mad Thinker, Mandrill, MODOK, Griffin, Constrictor, Red Ghost & the Super Apes, Whirlwind, and the Grey Gargoyle.

The Cube’s Power Loss causes a release of Gamma radiation which envelopes Doctor Samson.

SHIELD agent Clay Quartermain informs Nick Fury that the Vault and the Cube’s systems have gone offline and no one is responding in the Big House: “Something has gone seriously wrong!”

The Helicarrier suffers the worst of it because SHIELD has to deal with escaping prisoners while in the process of crashing.

Pepper contacts Tony to inform him of the Helicarrier explosion while Jarvis tells him the Vault’s systems have gone offline. Tony heads to the Vault since he’s closer to it.

Thor and Jane are having drinks. Jane tells Thor to be a grown-up and handle his Asgardian responsibilities – Earth will be fine. Cue Helicarrier explosion. Thor heads off to investigate.

Banner is trapped under rubble. Doctor Samson stumbles toward him – with green hair. Samson attempts to lift the rubble and transforms into a super-human physique.

I do prefer this origin for Doctor Samson instead of the comic book verse where an alleged highly intelligent man decides to randomly inject himself with gamma radiation.

Vector of the U-Foes opens the weapons storage area of the Vault, allowing a female Whiplash and Chemistro.

Hawkeye knocks out Chemistro.

Hank is not having a good time as he’s in the midst of a huge multiple super-villain brawl. Cobra is the latest villain to arrive at the party. The Ultron robots attempt to stop Red Ghost but are stopped by the Super Apes. Fortunately for Hank, Jan arrives in time to save the day.

Hawkeye aims at Whiplash only for Iron Man to storm in through the ceiling. Tony recognizes Whiplash but refers to Clint as “arrow guy”.

Hawkeye is clearly in the early part of his career – the misunderstood good guy who was imprisoned – but he clearly never fought Iron Man as Tony doesn’t recognize him.

Clint attempts to say “Wait, I’m a good guy” but is interrupted by a repulsor blast. If Clint’s identifying himself as a “good guy” why was he imprisoned? A misunderstanding – like in the comics – Natasha’s a SHIELD agent but did another woman play Clint for a fool? Or is Clint undercover for SHIELD?

Tony battles Whiplash and Blizzard, two of his regular rogues’ gallery, and Vector, who is normally a Hulk enemy. Crimson Dynamo decides now is the perfect time to join the Iron Man beatdown party.

Tony orders an evacuation of the Vault – all SHIELD agents are to leave immediately.

Nick Fury isn’t concerned with the chaos and escapees on the Helicarrier – his only priority is the Raft – the “fourth prison”.

As seen in the comic book verse, the cartoon verse, and Captain America: Civil War, the Raft is a prison off the coast of New York City. The cells are on the ocean floor.

The mass breakout of the Raft caused the creation of Bendis’s New Avengers and was clearly one of the inspirations of these episodes.

We view the Raft and it too is losing power. Baron Zemo and the Purple Man have been released along with a furry clawed creature that we only receive a glimpse of so I can’t identify. Marvel has a lot of clawed, furry creatures.

We also see an unconscious man regaining consciousness. This will be Graviton, an extremely powerful but ultimately boring villain. In the New Avengers arc, Count Nefaria was the big bad released from the Raft.

Zzzax electrocutes Banner which triggers the transformation into the Hulk.

The Leader is in the control room and observes the mass shutdowns of the superhuman prisons. He orders the Absorbing Man and the Abomination to deal with the Hulk.

Hawkeye aids Iron Man in his battle against his rogues’ gallery. Iron Man initiates a self-destruct sequence of the Vault. An effective if brutal way to deal with the villains.

Hulk, the Absorbing Man, and the Abomination battle across the Cube. Hulk grabs Sampson and leaps from the Cube. The Leader prevents Absorbing Man and the Abomination from pursuing the Hulk as “we have work to do”.

The location of the Cube isn’t established but based on the scenery I would say it’s in New Mexico – the traditional stomping grounds of the Hulk.

Fury leaves Maria as the acting director of SHIELD while he takes a team to the Raft. Graviton is fully awake and launches the Raft into the sky.

The second episode begins with a flashback from ten years ago. Nick Fury hires Franklin Hall, a gravity researcher/physicist to continue Abraham Erskine’s work on the Super Soldier project.

I’m not a scientist but isn’t a physicist the wrong type of specialist to continue Erskine’s work?

Hall’s work causes an explosion that bombards him with energy. Hall regains consciousness and realizes he can control gravity. Fury responds by gassing him into unconsciousness and keeping him comatose for the next decade.

Hall was never going to be a nice man but I don’t think you should keep an individual comatose for a decade before he’s even broken a law.

The newly awoken Hall asks Zemo how long he’s been at the Raft and Zemo replies “longer than me and I have been here for six years.”

Hall is rightfully pissed and yanks the Raft into the air.

Graviton tortures Fury but is interrupted by a newly arrived Thor. Wasp rescues Fury while Thor and Graviton battle. The distraction causes Graviton to release the Raft and it falls into the ocean. It’s been a bad day for the prisoners of the Raft and the Vault.

Iron Man requests a new suit of armor from his Chicago armory. Tony’s stuck chilling in a cornfield (Iowa, Kansas?) until it arrives.

Fury declares an “Omega-level emergency” which means that “every SHIELD agent, every Hulkbuster unit, and the entire United States armed forces” is under his direct control.

Hank & Jan demand information from Fury. Hank notes no one has heard from Hall “ever since he joined SHIELD”.

The Hulk drops Samson off at the Vital Diner, ordering chicken soup and requesting the waitress take care of Samson.

Bruce urges the Hulk to head to New York and aid Thor. Hulk agrees if he is allowed to remain the Hulk and not be “Banner”.

Janet throws herself into the fight and Hank follows after quizzing Fury for info.

Wasp gives Graviton hell. Earth’s Mightiest Heroes’ Janet is my favorite Janet. Sassy, headstrong, big heart, great costume. Also, my favorite Hank Pym. Smart, conflicted, reluctant hero and has never hit Jan.

Iron Man arrives and joins the fight.

Graviton tears New York City apart, and sends Iron Man into space.

Iron Man returns from space and unleashes the repulsor blast/uni-beam to end all blasts.

Hulk arrives in time to debate Graviton’s claim that he “is the strongest one there is”.

Thor’s comment after the Hulk’s arrival: “I didn’t realize there were ogres on Midgard”.

The united team battle and defeat Graviton.

SHIELD attempts to arrest the Hulk but is stopped by the rest of the Avengers.

Fury notes 74 super-villains have escaped the various prisons. If we assume all the villains shown, minus Graviton, have escaped that would be a total of 23. If you include the Super-Apes (who are more of mindless minions than actual villains) and assume the rest of the U-Foes and the Wrecking Crew were imprisoned with their leaders, it leaves us with a count of 32. I’m not counting the AIM henchmen Tony dropped off at the Vault because I don’t think they were imprisoned long enough to be processed in the system. We have 42 unseen villains that escaped but only 40 if you count Hawkeye and the Hulk among the escapees.

Fury asks the assembled heroes to become SHIELD agents but Hank refuses on behalf of the entire group. Hank rightfully points out Fury’s actions caused the entire Graviton situation.

Iron Man agrees the heroes should become a team but not under SHIELD’s supervision.

SHIELD discovers Graviton regained consciousness after all the prisons failed leading to the final question: “If he wasn’t responsible, who was?”

Great debut episode. I loved the fact that even though Captain America was in the opening credits, we didn’t see him at all in the opening two-parter. Very true to the comics as Cap wasn’t a founder member in the series and didn’t appear until issue #4.

I also enjoyed the various prisons and their different purposes.

The Vault was primarily but not exclusively for tech-based villains (Crimson Dynamo, Chemistro, Whiplash, Blizzard, AIM, etc).

The Cube is Gamma-radiation/other mysterious energy-based villains (Leader, Abomination, Zzzax, Absorbing Man, Wrecker, etc).

The Raft is “Oh Shit” level villains either due to powers (Graviton, Purple Man) or influence (Baron Zemo).

The Big House is the least-clearly defined in purpose but mostly contained enemies of Captain America and the Fantastic Four.

Characters appearing and/or mentioned:

1. Iron Man (Tony Stark)

2. Lucia Von Bardas

3. Doctor Doom

4. A.I.M.

5. Jarvis (A.I)

6. Pepper Potts

7. Wrecker

8. Zzzax

9. Absorbing Man

10. Doctor Samson

11. Hulk (Bruce Banner)

12. S.H.I.E.L.D.

13. General “Thunderbolt” Ross

14. Leader

15. Abomination

16. Thor

17. Balder the Brave

18. Odin

19. Jane Foster

20. Jimmy Woo

21. Ant-Man (Hank Pym)

22. Ultron

23. Mad Thinker

24. Maria Hill

25. Wasp (Janet Van Dyne)

26. Nick Fury

27. Black Widow (Natasha Romanoff)

28. Hawkeye (Clint Barton)

29. Blizzard

30. Baron Von Strucker

31. Mandrill

32. MODOK

33. Griffin

34. Red Ghost & the Super Apes

35. Whirlwind

36. Grey Gargoyle

37. Constrictor

38. Clay Quartermain

39. Vector

40. U-Foes

41. Whiplash

42. Chemistro

43. Cobra

44. Crimson Dynamo

45. Baron Zemo

46. Purple Man

47. Graviton

#Avengers #Earth's Mightiest Heroes #Iron Man #Hulk #Thor #Hank Pym #Wasp #Janet Van Dyne #Tony Stark #Bruce Wayne #Graviton #SHIELD #Hawkeye

10 notes · View notes