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godofplumsandthunder · 3 years

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Twisted Fate

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Cancer, both Bucky and reader have cancer, Major Character death, brief hospital terms mainly reffering to cancer treatment. References to amputation.

A/N: This was written for the lovely @eurynome827 2k celebration. I got a lovely quote of lyrics from Hadestown, which I wanted to do something that was based off of the musical, but I couldn’t figure anything out. Then I had a big anniversary come up and this was came out instead. It’s very angsty, I cried a lot, and well I hope you like it.

The low, steady hum of the fan fills the awkward silence. The psychiatrist, newly assigned to the case, still doesn’t feel comfortable. “Case number 32557038” was widely known in the health care center. The whispers and rumors floated their way down the hall, past the copy machine, filling the office with this chilling tale. Some regarded it as a terrible series of bad luck, others thought it was an act of some benevolent God, pouring his rage on this poor couple. Dr. Breynord, after reading the notes on the file, Breynord knew that this case was perhaps the worst case of bad luck she ever saw in her career, and, maybe it was her stubbornness or naive belief in medicine, but Dr. Breynord was going to help this poor man get the peace he so desperately needs.

“James,” Dr. Breynord’s voice breaks the silence of the office, “I’ve read what my colleagues had to say about your case, but, I’d like you to tell me what has happened if you feel comfortable.”

Shifting in his seat, James sighs, with a small nod of the head, he starts at the beginning.

Bucky Barnes was used to change. Granted, it was other people’s change, but it was still change nonetheless. The poor folks that sat next to him each clinic visit changed, his caretakers changed, it seemed as if the whole world changed around him, while he was stuck in some perpetual hell. Every day dragged out in the same dull, and nauseating feeling, and at times, Bucky felt he was in an endless loop, forsaken by some deity he didn’t believe in. But, for however long Bucky has left in this fallen and cruel world, he’ll remember when you walked in, shattering the miserable purgatory he was banished to, he’ll always remember the day you changed his life.

It happened during his first transfusion session after his surgery. His arm, still wrapped in bandage, IV tubing leading straight to his heart, pumped his body full of liquids, as he waited for the toxic poison to enter his body. He always found it ironic, the “medicine” that was supposed to save his life, that was too dangerous for the nurses to touch with their bare hands, was willingly flushed into his body. Hair loss, mouth sores, and muscle aches were the better side effects. He can’t help but think about what is coming, especially as he sees his nurse, Thor, come over with the freshly made batch of poison [STRIKE THROUGH], chemotherapy as his doctor would want him to call it. Hanging the bag on his IV pole, Thor looks over at Bucky, giving him the “I’m going to go on a rant about something you should care about” look.

“Now James, we’re getting a new patient today. It’s their first transfusion. They’re going to be sitting in the pod next to you. I swear to the gods, I best not hear another complaint about your attitude.”

“Me? An attitude? No, I think you got me confused with someone else. I’m the brightest little ball of sunshine here!” Bucky can’t help but chuckle. It’s not his fault he wasn’t a “warrior”, blasting “Fight Song” 24/7, as he sips on a kale smoothie with coffee suppositories shoved up his ass. T

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Barnes,” Thor shakes his head as he cleans up his station, “don’t think I won’t throw your bald ass out of here. That cancer sob story, won’t work on me.”

Bucky goes back to his phone, already feeling the effects of the chemo. No matter how many anti-nausea meds they fed him, Cisplatin always makes him sick. So, he had the right to act like a grumpy old grandpa. While he scrolls through his social media feed, seeing all the accomplishments, brags, and just shit of his friends, Bucky hears your sniffles, as you make your way down to the end of the Oncology clinic, taking a seat next to Bucky. Even if Thor hadn’t given him the heads up, he would have known you were fresh meat. One infusion, his mom asked him how he could tell. It was easy for Bucky, it all had to do with the eyes. A cancer diagnosis shatters you. It kills all hope, light, and goodness that’s in you. You turn completely numb to the world, to the point where your own wailing and sobs feel muted. Bucky saw all of that in your eyes. Behind the puffy, redness, saw the shards of hope, the fear of the unknown. Before you could reach your seat, you stumble, spilling your possessions that you carried all over the floor. Bucky watches quietly as you quickly pick up your items, collapsing into the chair next to him.

“Sorry I couldn’t give you a hand, only have the one,” he wiggles his stump, and he's met with silence. Talk about a rough crowd, he thinks, his nephews love his stumpy jokes. “So,” Bucky continues, “what are you in for? I’m a sarcoma, in the arm.” You sniffle as you turn your body to look at this new man.

“Leukemia,” you confess, voice barely above a whisper. It takes a real effort to say it out loud because then it makes all of this real.

“That’s good then,” the “sarcoma” man says to you, and Bucky can see the confusion, and pain on your face.

“How is that good? How is cancer good?”

Using his arm, Bucky points around the room, giving you a tour of the room.

“See him, that’s Riley, he has an inoperable brain tumor. That young kid, with the Switch? His name is Peter, his body is chemo resistant. So yeah, leukemia is good. If you haven’t learned it yet, not all cancers are made equal.”

“Oh,” you barely make out. What were you supposed to say to that?

=====

Much to Bucky’s surprise, he actually enjoyed having your company. Your treatments lined up and so you both got to know each other well. Bucky enjoyed having someone close to his age that understood his problems. And it also didn’t hurt that you had such a great personality, you got Bucky’s dark humor (and it went without saying that you understood it was his way of coping), and you looked great. Not many people can rock a bald head. And Bucky has seen his fair share, and he can say with confidence, you rocked it. Not covering it up with caps, scarves, or wigs. Because why should you hide away? For the first time since his diagnosis, Bucky had a purpose. So, while his immune system allowed him to leave the house, he picked up a bouquet of fake flowers (neutropenia life, am I right?) and a box of chocolates to take with him to the next transfusion. When he got to the clinic, Bucky was a bit worried to see that you weren’t next to him. Instead, there sat Barb, 75 years old with breast cancer.

“Oh sweetie, are those for me?” Barb looks at the flowers in Bucky’s hand.

“No!” He snaps, as closes the curtain that surrounds his chair. He hears some huffs and complaints from Barb, but frankly, he doesn’t give a damn. Bucky only has one thing on his mind: you.

“Are you alright? You’re not here at Club Med” Bucky texts as quickly as his one hand would let him. Dropping his phone, Bucky stares at it all while the nurses prep him. And because of damn, HIPAA, none of the nurses can tell him where you’re at. Minutes turn into hours, and by the time Bucky’s infusion ends, you still haven’t responded to him or shown up at the clinic.

“Hope you’re okay. Call or text me. I'm worried” Bucky sighs, realizing how much you made his chemo treatments more bearable. How your laugh could make him forget of the poison he had to take, or how the light in your eyes could make him forget, even just for a bit, how much his arm stump was hurting. You were a drug, more potent than any he’s had before, and Bucky was becoming addicted. He’s picking at the hamburger he got for dinner, not having much of an appetite when his phone goes off. Seeing it’s from you, he rushes to answer.

“Y/N! I… Where were you? I missed you today. I had to sit by Barb and…” The sounds of your cries cut Bucky off.

“Are you okay?”

“No, Buck. I… Got some bad news today.”

“Where are you?” He asks. He knows you’re alone, and speaking from experience, you never want to be alone when you get bad news. He knows from experience.

“Buck…” you sigh, “It’s fine. Really.”

“Please, Y/N, I know what it’s like to be alone after getting this kind of news. Please, let me be there for you.” Breaking further down into tears, you cry at Bucky’s actions, actions of love.

“I’ll send you my address,” Bucky gathers the flowers and chocolates as he rushes to your apartment, breaking a few traffic laws to get there faster. When he gets there, the image of you, opening the door, eyes swollen from crying breaks his heart.

“Oh, Y/N,” Bucky sweeps you into his arm, as he closes the door behind, “tell me what’s going on hun.”

You both sit on the couch, the bag with the flowers and chocolate lay at your feet, as you stay in Bucky’s embrace.

“I’m… I’m dying Buck!” You manage to say in-between odds. “Dr. Fair... gave me three months to live. There’s nothing else they can do.” You break down in his arms, that last straw finally breaking, as you tell your newfound best friend, the person you were supposed to beat cancer with. Bucky tries his best to remain strong, to be the rock, the foundation you need, but you’re not the only one that is losing a friend. You sit in each other's embrace, as you mourn. You cry for all the missed opportunities, laughs, and memories that won’t be made.

“What am I going to do,” you whisper, your voice hoarse from crying.

Kissing your head, Bucky pulls you in closer, “we, are going to make these three months, the best three months you’ve ever had.”

Bucky lives up to his promise, spending every hour he isn’t in the hospital with you. The time you spent together changed your relationship. Neither had to officially say the words to make your relationship official. It was just you, and Bucky. Holding each other close, as the tempest waged on, trying to beat you into submission. You go on walks in the park, picnics, and one night when you both had the energy, went skinny dipping. Your logic being, what are the cops going to do? Arrest two cancer patients, with one of them being terminal? You threw caution to the wind and simply lived. Lived, breathed, and loved. Things seemed to be perfect until reality hit.

Your body wasn’t keeping up. Your cancer was spreading faster than they predicted. The doctors couldn’t give you an explanation as to why the cancer was spreading so fast. It shouldn’t have been. Soon, home hospice came, to try to make you more comfortable. And like the good partner he was, Bucky spent every minute by your side. That’s why, when you felt the inevitable coming, you felt your body give in to the tiredness of fighting, you grab Bucky’s hand.

“I love you, James Bucky Barnes,” you weakly say, giving him one last affirmation, as you went to sleep, for one last time.

As Bucky wakes up from his nap, feeling your cold body, he tries to ruse you back awake. Once he realizes what has happened, the last bit of humanity inside of Bucky snapped. He lets out a blood-curdling scream, as tears stream down his face. He strikes your face, pleas escape his mouth. Pleas to you, to a God he has long stopped believing in. His body shakes, his tears wetting your hair, as he holds you for one last time.

=====

“Oh James,” Dr. Breynord grabs herself a tissue before handing Bucky the box of tissues. “I truly am so sorry to hear that. I want you to know that I am here to help you get happy again, and to heal.”

Bucky sighs and turns away from the doctor as he wipes his eyes. “You’re just like the rest of them. You didn’t listen to me.”

Breynord was surprised that this was Bucky’s complaint. The other doctors had warned her that Bucky could be sarcastic, standoff-ish, and even flat-out rude to them. Breynord thought she did a good job listening to his story, what did she miss.

“I… I don’t think I understand what you mean, James.”

Bucky lets out a heartless, empty laugh, “you want me to be happy again. I’m never going to be. Not only do I have to live with the guilt of surviving, when she died, in my arms, but I’ll also never find another soul like hers. We had a connection, you know. It felt like we met before. When I held her in my arm, and her arms would wrap around me, it felt like I had the whole world in my arms. I didn’t need anything else when I had Y/N.”

“So tell me doc, what’s the point of carrying on?”

#eury2kchallenge #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky angst #cancer #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #oneshot

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mars-janka · 3 years

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Bluebirds

Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

Ship: Revalink (Revali x Link)

Word count: 4684

A/N: This piece is a work for the Revalink Valentine’s Exchange 2021 @revalinkexchange! Happy Valentine’s Day to my dear giftee @spacesephora! Thank you for providing the prompt and inspiring me; I do wish you enjoy reading my take on it!

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Vah Medoh was lonely.

Before the Calamity, Revali never really understood how the mechanical beast thrown under his wing worked. He was told countless times that it held a soul, but then again, he questioned himself when he was alone almost as many times as he’s heard of it, how could a stone machine be ever capable of having one? And yet despite those doubts it was one of the few things he kept to himself and never dared to speak up about it; it wasn’t like he possessed any more knowledge about ancient Sheikah technology than Purah, Robbie or even princess Zelda.

With those thoughts repressed deep inside him, Revali continued to listen to more of the scientist’s advice and theories and utilizing them later when within the divine beast. He had never once felt a presence surrounding him, making him doubt all the efforts he made to “connect” with Medoh, but nevertheless never stopped trying. It was surprising when he heard of Daruk having problems with taming Rudania. It made Revali almost paranoid, now looking over his shoulder at the slightest sound and faint feeling of something sneaking up his spine. Yet despite that, a part of him still seemed to be wary of the idea of Medoh being alive.

It changed when his own life came to a tragic end.

He no longer had any doubts. He no longer had any body, he turned into merely a presence, one that he once didn’t believe to be real. As the consciousness left his mortal, limp body, Revali felt his soul intertwine with another one, one that could only be Medoh. They became one and the same, a wicked, infested part of her threatening to infuse his mind.

He despised it; he spent his first months silent, lost in thought not bothering to speak to Medoh despite her malicious cries. Their roles switched, now he was a beast that needed taming. He isolated himself, wallowing over his lost life, cursing Hylia and pitying Hyrule’s fate all in the one of many corners of the divine beast. After a few years, his mindset changed, however. Revali realized that his soul was bound to Medoh’s forever, whether pure or cruel, and there was nothing he could do about it; he could not escape, he could not defeat her nor could he take his own life as he was already dead.

With a heavy heart he submitted to his fate and day by day, night by night the pain started to lessen.

He let himself let out everything; his fears, burdens, memories, passions. Even if Medoh was swallowed by a dark force, he still felt as if an old part of her was still there, understanding him and his emotions, something he hadn’t been graced by in a very long time. At times, he wondered if that was meant to be from the beginning; two lonely souls finding each other. Revali smiled feeling her presence, he felt content with that.

That was until Link came back from the dead.

The sheer sight of him made Revali feel a strange sensation inside of him. Watching him was strange. He had not changed, not one bit, his youthful features apparent with movements mirroring those which Revali remembered from a century ago. Despite that something felt off. He brushed it off, too interested (and too excited) in observing Link’s struggles with overcoming the difficulties he was faced with to care.

What he couldn’t ignore however was the feeling that loomed over him after he and Link had parted. The loneliness that Revali hid deep inside himself was threatening to tear trough again, its power strengthened. Medoh’s company wasn’t enough, he realized with pain. He became quieter than he was in the beginning, not daring to let his thoughts slip. Hiding from Medoh wasn’t as difficult as it used to be with his newly acquired body (he was still but a mere spirit, yet it was still much more than he could’ve ever imagined). What was, though, was hurting her.

It felt terrible yet he couldn’t make himself open up to her, straying away as far as he could. He remained distant and cold ignoring her cries, longing to see the world once again, if only for a second.

Revali was absorbed in his thoughts, looking out at Rito Village through the humongous round windows when it happened. Out of the blue, he felt some divine being wrap him in their hands and suddenly he found himself in a place, beside somebody that he expected the least to see.

It was raining terribly, and Link looked almost as shocked as he did, clinging tightly to his cloth paraglider as Revali’s spirit circled around him, wings spreading in a graceful manner, summoning an updraft that lifted them both up in only a matter of seconds. It was as if the same force as before was controlling all his movements. Revali was overwhelmed by what was happening around him, by what was happening to him. He could feel everything; the wind grazing his feathers, the rain coating them, the almost suffocating air that he breathed, the lingering smell of the ocean. It all seemed too good to be true. And for the first time in a hundred years, he felt alive, no matter how ironic that was, considering he was still very much everything but that.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Link’s, raw emotions shining through them (as though the knight could feel). He wasn’t sure if it was the force that made it impossible or if there really was something truly captivating, mesmerizing about them. He couldn’t give it another thought, however, as he felt that same bizarre, divine hands take him into their care. Panicking, he opened his beak to shout. Before any words had a change to form, his vision became blurry and in a blink of an eye he was once again reunited with the cold, indifferent interior of his divine beast.

“No!” he cried as the words found a way to escape, his wing instinctively reaching forward to grab what was left of this beautiful dream he had, only to be met with hard glass preventing him from falling down, in a moment where he wanted to fall the most, feel the wind graze his feathers once more. “No…” he said again with head pressing painfully against the window as he gradually slid down to his knees. His gaze locked at the very sight he was looking at before, his home, Rito Village. Revali felt a lump form in his throat, choking a sob. “Please,” he said, pleading to whoever who listened, voice shaking. “Please, let me out of here.”

His wish couldn’t be fulfilled, not if he was not called for by this divine force.

Which wasn’t something he expected to happen as weeks flew by. What did, however, happen was that he was left completely alone as Medoh wouldn’t be bothered by his behavior anymore. Revali couldn’t hear her cries and thoughts; she shut him off just like he wanted and yet he still found himself missing them. He would never admit that of course, whatever was left of his pride making him bottle it up inside, quietly hoping that one day the silence would break.

And finally, that day came. It was unexpected and sudden and… peculiar. The presence that Revali felt, and assumed to be Medoh, was very much unlike anything he remembered. Something about it was off, as if it couldn’t possibly be her but then again perhaps, she has changed and in doing so did the feeling of her presence as it had been a while since she has too isolated herself. Revali though was too distracted by the sheer joy that he felt in this very moment, calling Medoh’s name in his thoughts, hoping that she’d hear him and rushing through the insides of the divine beast searching for the place where he’d sense her the most.

“I’m sorry,” the thoughts echoed in his mind, as he couldn’t bear to speak, knowing that Medoh preferred them to hearing his voice. “I’m sorry I was so selfish, Medoh please forgive me.” They were running almost as fast as he was. “Give me a sign that you’re there!”

Revali was slowly but surely getting tired of participating in this cat and mouse styled game. Just as he was about to call out her name with his voice, he had felt her presence right next to him. Abruptly, he turned his head to face her and it wasn’t Medoh, oh no. For the third time in the past few months, he saw none other than Link.

He wasn’t sure whether to feel surprised, disappointed, annoyed or relieved even. He simply sighed and let his shoulders slouch back. “What are you doing here, knight?” he asked, voice harsh. “Don’t you have a world to save?” Revali was staring right into Link’s eyes intensely, nearly burning holes in them. For a short while, everything else disappeared, the world was shut out. It was only him and Link, looking, trying to solve the hidden meanings behind their mannerisms, expressions, eyes. Revali didn’t mind the sensation that it gave him, he longed for anything that helped him get his mind off his terrible afterlife.

Suddenly the wind howled, breaking the tense silence surrounding them. The sound reminded Revali of Medoh. He grunted and looked away a bit embarrassed. “A hundred years and you still hadn’t got back your tongue,” he said regaining his stance.

He was ready to dismiss the whole situation and go back to Medoh to try and search for comfort, but much to his surprise, he heard a voice, making his plan temporarily impossible. “I-,” It came out as a rasp. Revali’s eyes widened as he realized that this voice belongs to Link. “I thought that you could use some company.”

“You what?” he choked, not believing what he just heard. The feathers on his body ruffled uncontrollably, standing up from every side. He wasn’t sure whether it was because of the raspy, probably from unuse, serious tone, because of the message that the words passed, or perhaps the combination of both. The fact that he was trying his hardest to hide it, getting annoyed in the process wasn’t of any help. “What made you think so?”

For an unknown reason, some part of him expected Link to shrug and laugh in his face, saying that it was but a mere joke and yet none of that happened. He stood there, seemingly tall and proud of what he said. This time it was Revali that felt the gaze staring right into the inside of his soul. He on the other hand couldn’t bring himself to look at the knight’s face. “I know you’re lonely,” Link said, his voice now softer.

Revali let out a short awkward laugh. “I don’t know what-,” he tried to argue but was quickly (and efficiently) cut off.

“Don’t try to deny that,” his serious tone came back and Revali couldn’t help but to look at him. His gaze was as stern as his posture, both hands by his sides, curled up in fists. “I’ve seen it in your eyes, it’s written all over your face,” he started with passion, confident with his words spread only the truth. “The first time we met, when I… I don’t even know saw your… spirit?” he stumbled, probably too many thoughts flooding his little head yet still remained as passionate. “A-And now, too,” he added quickly. “You can’t hide it.”

Revali stood before him, stunned. His beak was opened slightly before it formed into a frown. “Unbelievable,” he scoffed, and more feathers ruffled on his back. “You,” he angrily pointed one finger at Link. “Have a lot of nerve coming here,” he was gesticulating wildly. “To my home, out of the blue, completely uninvited and tell me about my personal problems whilst not having resolved your own!” he huffed and took a deep breath. “Completely ridiculous.”

Link took every word that he spit at him with patience. He had closed his eyes and didn’t bother to respond. This angered Revali more, but he had no more energy to waste. “Oh, so now you won’t answer?” he waited a little while longer before realizing that it’s in vain. He turned on his foot, ready to hide in the shadows of Vah Medoh. “Classic.”

“I need your company!”

Revali stopped walking. This sentence alone sparked his interest enough to stay and listen to what Link had to say. The Hylian seemed to get the cue. “I-I am lonely too,” his voice was much quieter than only seconds ago; it was obvious that he hadn’t planned to bring this subject up and yet he still kept going. “You don’t owe me anything but,” Link sighed deeply, preparing for whatever he was about to say. “You’re the only one who understands what it’s like to truly be alone, what it’s like to be the one left behind.”

Revali could feel Link looking at him expectantly. “You’re wrong,” he heard Link take a breath. “Not that I expected anything else, but…” he turned to face him and yet didn’t look at his face, focusing on everything but him. “I am not lonely,” he stated, putting the most pressure on the third word. “And I do owe you something. My soul. And for that I-,” Revali’s eyes caught Link’s and only now he noticed the brilliant blush on his cheeks that he’s not seen before. It distracted him but he quickly shook out of it and he chose to ignore it, grunting and glancing away. “I suppose I can give the company that you crave so much.”

And ever since then, he had kept his word, as every time Link visited him, he’d embrace him with open arms. Revali had become reliant on his visits, firstly only craving any form on intimacy since Medoh was no longer an option. At times he’d even compare the divine beast to a desert since it was so desolate, empty and vacant only until Link showed up, momentarily replacing the feeling of being alone with joy upon meeting another person. Link was Revali’s escape, nothing more.

“I plan to battle with Ganon in a short time.”

Or so he had thought a while ago.

Somehow that sentence that was whispered to him made him fear more than ever. A cold shiver ran down Revali’s spine as his fingers curled up in Link’s hair stopped their movements. He felt the blonde shift on his lap, later a hand touching his face. “Is something wrong?” Link had asked, his voice concerned and soft.

Revali didn’t look at him. His heart screamed yes and yet he said “No, everything’s fine.” To assure Link, or himself really, he continued stroking his hair. He felt his heart leap, sink, do cartwheels and everything in between. He was far from being okay. He swallowed audibly. “Just… try your best to dodge his attacks.”

Link laughed and turned to face him as Revali with a smirk on his face playfully ruffled his hair. “All this time,” he said dramatically. “And you’re still doubting my abilities?”

“Never hurts to be simply remind.”

They parted soon after. They didn’t say goodbye, never did. It seemed all too serious, and all too sad. A simple wave would cut it as Link each time left Medoh in the beautiful colors of dawn. Watching him was serene, calming even despite his heart aching, begging him not to leave and the knowledge that he was about to fight the worst of nightmares, one that was a brink away from consuming the world. As Link disappeared completely from Revali’s line of sight, he took a deep breath and murmured, “I really hope you get back.” With that, he turned to hide in Medoh.

The next thing he remembered was that, for the first time in a hundred years, he woke up. His body was terribly aching, muscles sore as if all he had been doing those years were murderous exercises. He opened his eyes with a groan; though he quickly closed them when the light of the morning sun started to burn them. He couldn’t as much stand up, he couldn’t move his wings nor his legs; it was as if he was pinned to the ground, groaning from pain. It was Link who had found him, a couple days after. The knight panicked but immediately went back to the village to get help. The Rito were more than confused when they saw Revali, but they agreed to help, not knowing that the very man that they’re nursing back to health is their beloved Champion from a century prior.

The recovery was taking months and Revali slowly but surely was getting better. “I remember being alive differently than this,” he said later followed by a cough. Link smiled and leaned back in his chair looking out at the sunset. He was trying his best to visit Revali at all times, but it was not always the easiest now with princess Zelda needing his help with rebuilding the ruined kingdom.

“I’m pretty sure that the others feel the same way you do,” Link said lightheartedly to which Revali scoffed. He wasn’t the only one who was resurrected. Mipha, Urbosa and Daruk have been all reported to be very much alive as well. He had yet to see them though, but with his (and others) current, bleak state it was simply impossible. “When you’re all be looking…” Link trailed off into thought, trying to find the perfect word as Revali was glancing at him, awaiting. “…a bit better!” he finished enthusiastically. “I will invite you to visit my house in Hateno Village.”

“Now, that’s an idea,” Revali said, both intrigued and prejudiced. He thought out loud. “I wonder if the six of us will fit.”

“I’m sure we’ll manage.” And when the time came, though not without struggle, they really did. Beds, hammocks, sleeping bags and everything in between were now littering the entirety of the house’s first floor. There were also some baggage laying around, since when the guest where to put things, Link simply shrugged with a smile saying, “Throw it wherever.” From the décor Revali thought that it was clear that the knight never really got to spend much time just to sit and think, and if he did it certainly wasn’t the place.

“Sorry for the emptiness,” said shyly princess Zelda even though nobody seemed to mind (how could they when they spent the past century living in a mechanical beast?). “I’ve been trying to get more furniture but it’s hard these days.” She has been temporarily living with Link ever since the defeat of Ganon, so she must’ve felt at least partially responsible for the guests too, Revali figured.

Being in one room with so many people felt… to say the least strange. Everyone, though trying not to show, has changed in some way but that was certainly to be expected. What stayed the same however was their unique, unbreakable bond. It was clear that each and every one of them was grateful for the way the things turned out.

Silence lingered between the six, until Link decided to speak up, scratching the back of his head. “So…” he started, now getting everyone’s attention. “Does anyone fancy a quick spiced meat and mushroom skewer?” No one (with the exception of Daruk who was granted a prime rock roast) could turn down such an offer. The Champions and Zelda were very much aware of Link’s magnificent cooking skills that could turn a simple dish like this to a culinary masterpiece as when they were all recovering, he never failed to spoil them with their favorite foods.

“You’re too good to us, Link,” said Urbosa as she finished another one of the skewers. Everyone either laughed or nodded in approval. It was slowly getting darker and they sat peacefully, warmed by a fire right in front of Link’s house. The atmosphere got more relaxed with enthusiastic conversations and jokes replaced by a comfortable silence, sometimes interrupted by a yawn. The Champions started leaving the fire one by one, muttering a ‘goodnight’ in order to go to sleep.

Revali answered lazily every single one of the goodnight’s whilst being completely invested in watching the fire burn. He was very much sure that he was the only one left until he felt a warm body quickly sit right next to him. Not expecting that he was startled very much to which Link laughed. “You want to put a man who came back from the dead back to his place?”

“Not in a million years,” Link replied a sly smile playing on his lips. Revali sighed and moved a to the side slightly, giving him space to settle. He then fidgeted for quite a bit before finding the perfect spot. Revali couldn’t be bothered anymore however as he still stared into the calming flames. Link decided to join him. “Don’t you want to sleep?” he asked, nuzzling faintly into his feathers.

“Not really, no,” it took a second for him to respond. He wrapped his wing around the smaller frame of Link, something that made the knight very happy.

Link hummed happily, putting his head on Revali’s chest. “May I make a suggestion?” As an answer, Revali put his beak at the top of his head. Link stuttered at first, clearly nervous with what he was about to say. “I was-,” he took a deep breath and stopped for a moment as if to formulate the words. “There’s this, um, place that I-I’d like to show you.”

Revali quirked his brows. “Well, go on, I’m listening.”

“The thing is,” Link shifted away from him and started gesticulating. “It’s not that far away, really, but it’s far enough that we’d have to fly there and-,” he couldn’t go on as he got caught off.

“Wait, wait,” Revali took Link’s hands into his and the blonde looked at him curiously. “Did you say… fly?” Link, stunned, only nodded in response. Revali could see that he was trying his best to figure out what was wrong with flying, as to visit him in Hateno, the Champion flew straight from Rito Village. “You’re aware that the Rito have terribly bad eyesight in the dark, right?” Link’s eyes widened and Revali couldn’t help but smile at his cluelessness. “Oh my, who would’ve thought that the mighty knight needed some school time.”

Link blushed and turned away, but soon his laugh joined Revali’s. He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. “In that case, we can just go some other-”

“No!” Revali burst out suddenly. Realizing this, he grunted and thought of a way to explain this. “I mean- um, a little bit of adrenaline is always much appreciated in life, especially after only getting it back, right?”

Link looked at him, puzzled and skeptical. “…Right,” with the newly acquired knowledge, he wasn’t quite sure that the situation he was putting himself in was exactly safe but decided not to argue against it. “It’s only fair to fulfill a dying man’s last wish,” he said playfully to which Revali smacked his head from the back.

“I wonder who the dying man could be…” Before Link could reply with a snarkier remark, Revali got up and motioned for him to get on his back. “Come on, knight, I have a million things do to.” With that Link quickly complied and in no time Revali summoned his famous gale as they set off with the hero shouting Revali the directions and being his overall guide for the next hour or so.

It must’ve been truly tiring since the first thing Link did when they landed on the soft sandy shore of Lurelin Village was lie down, burying his face in the sand. Revali, being much less unacquainted with its texture, took time to adapt and stretch his wings after the flight. One of the first things that he noticed was that “It’s hot.”

Link lifted his face up from the sand, half of it staying on his skin. “It’s great now,” he said as he tried to get rid of the sticky sand. “It’s much worse during the day, trust me on this one.”

Revali however didn’t manage to catch the last words that Link spoken, as he had noticed something much more interesting than his voice or the temperature. His breath caught in his chest as he spoke. “It’s beautiful,” he said, completely absorbed in thought. Link, not understanding what he was on about turned his head to face him. The expression on his face was unlike whatever he’s seen before, gaze stern and focused on what was before him and Link couldn’t help but follow his gaze. The calming sound of the waves crashing against each other filled his ears as he stood up and moved to stand next to Revali.

“It really is,” admitted Link, his fingers reaching to brush against Revali’s. Despite being completely mesmerized by the sheer sight of the ocean, he reciprocated the touch. “It actually reminds me of you…”

“How come?” Revali’s eyes never left the water, whilst Link’s trailed to look at his face.

He swallowed audibly. “W-Well,” he started and Revali turned his head to face him to which in response Link panicked, shying away. “It’s really n-not that far away from where I first used your gale,” he could feel his eyes watching him intently. “The color helps too,” he quickly added and Revali chuckled.

A comfortable silence fell between the two, their hands still touching as they both went back to watching the ocean unfold before their very eyes. Revali had never felt this calm before, not even Medoh could bring him such peace, though their souls were once one and the same. But Link and Medoh were not the same. What he felt for him was different, strong and… real. And he’s come to accept it. His mind was a hurricane filled with various thoughts in that moment and yet the sudden sound of Link’s voice didn’t fail to stop them. “It’s actually my favorite place to be,” he said squeezing his hand. “I stumbled here after seeing you to process it and… it has become a habit of mine.” Revali could tell he was speaking from the bottom of his heart, and suddenly his own started to ache. “It’s become a place I visit just to… think and feel less… alone.”

Revali felt as if he was frozen even though he could tell that Link was expecting some sort of response. And yet he couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. It was only when he felt his grip loosening and breathing quicken that he managed to as much hold his hand tighter. He could feel Link first tense, then relax; perhaps it was enough for him. But certainly not for Revali.

He turned to face him and cupped his face. “Link I-,” Revali started but his wide, blue eyes, looking at him as if he was the most important thing in this world, made him lower his gaze for a moment. He swallowed audibly and looked at him again, this time truly confident.

“I love you.”

The words hanged in the air and for a brink of a moment Revali’s whole life flashed before his eyes as he regretted saying those words, knowing that it would never be possible for someone like Link to love him. He panicked and wanted to run away but before he could as much as turn, Link’s voice echoed in his mind.

“I love you too,” he admitted with tears in his eyes and suddenly Revali noticed his own water. Link couldn’t take it anymore as he buried his face in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Revali instinctively wrapped his wings around him, pulling him closer and letting his own tears fall.

It really was beautiful; two lonely people finding happiness in each other as the sun rose behind them.

Another A/N: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you have the best of days!

#revalink #revali #link #botw #breath of the wild #fanfiction #botw fanfiction #revalink fanfiction #writing #revalink valentine's day exchange #revalink exchange #revali x link

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sabraeal · 3 years

Text

Age of Reason, Part 2

[Read on AO3]

Obiyuki AU Bingo 2021 Supernatural AU

The looming wrought-iron glares down at him; even choked with briars, it stands as proud as any guard, denying him entrance with a glance. She’d gotten in, she said, and out again even quicker. It’s possible. He just has to find the way.

His shoulders twitch, unimpressed.There’s a reason he wears gloves.

One hand wraps around a twisted bar, and a briar pierces through the leather like it’s paper. He recoils with a hiss, and to his extreme displeasure, the needle comes with him, broken right off near the glove.

He’s had worse splinters-- hell, he’s had worse stabs, but the thing’s hard to find even with the moonlight behind him. His head and shoulders keep falling into the worst angle, casting shadows shadows no matter which way he turns, leaving him to work half blind as he tries to pull it out. It makes it worse of course, each movement of his muscles sends the thing dancing around his palm, probing deeper into his flesh until he tears it out.

These damned gloves are supposed to protect him, but blood coats them still, shimmering black in the moonlight. He gives them a real contemplative look, some real consideration, and then cusses a streak so blue fire would be jealous. Damn that woman. If she’d gotten in, she owes him the professional courtesy of telling him how. He has half a mind to stomp right back to that tavern and shake her till she spills her secrets.

He takes a breath, holds it. It’s fine. This is far from the worst job he’s ever done.

The thing slides across the packed dirt, sand and scree skittering beneath its bare skin. It’s a woman in shape, diaphanous nightrail clinging so scandalously to its curves that wives clap hands over wandering eyes. She would have been a pretty girl in life, but in her undeath, she makes more than a convincing monster.

He stands in the holy circle of the Heavenly Maiden, salt staining his hands, and it hisses at him, back arched like a cat’s. Red stains its front, dribbling from full lips down to soak her gown.

“Kurei!” The name catches on the wind, already torn away. The mayor clutches at his door, lifting a hand to point through his wards. “It’s her-- the demon--”

“I know.” It’s an effort to lift the words out of a deadpan. “She’s no match for me.”

The spirit cocks its head; he knows that angle too well, the one that says, oh you think so? He lifts his shoulders, a subtle shrug. No hard feelings.

Her claws clench in the dirt. Ah, he’ll pay for that little line later. Already he’s at a disadvantage-- a full moon might have shone through, but with a chunk shaved from one side he’s stuck waiting for the wind to hurry it all along while he stands here, stalling.

His breath mists in the night air. Just one of the hazards of the job.

“You’re trapped in here with me, spirit.” In the dark, its hair is coarse, thick and black, rippling with each breath. The perfect hand-hold, should it dare tread close enough. “Your fight is with me!”

He grins as it growls, edging around his circle of salt. It follows, mimicking his movements, it on all fours and him on the balls of his feet. Already his cheek stings-- its limbs are long and strong but he didn’t expect the elbow to be so sharp-- but he doesn’t lift a hand to rub at it. Each moment here is the space between victory and condemnation, and he has none of them to spare.

Finally, the clouds part.

“I have you, beast!” Around him, the circle flares to life, the pure light of the heavens infusing it, glowing with an intensity would blind to those outside it. “Tempus fugit! Sapere aude! Ad meliora!”

For a moment its body leaps into the air, lunging for him, trying to tear his throat, but in the next it’s thrown to the ground, as if grabbed by heaven’s hand itself. With his last words still echoing in the square, the spirit spasms, voice railing to an unholy keen.

“Erat ergo sum! Quid pro quo!” He calls out, shaking holy water over it, black and red spotting her as he washes away its monstrous desires. “Non ducor duco!”

It gives a single, great heave of its body, and suddenly she’s limp, no longer a vengeful spirit but a girl once more. A mere husk that once held life. Mist rises from the circle as he lifts her body, curling coolly around his fingers.

“Caveat.” The night carrying his voice further than any earthy words should-- “Emptor.”

The villagers all peer out their windows, the more daring of them peeking out doors. Now that the danger’s over, everyone wants to see the monster hunter and his prey. He’s heard plenty talk about the noble nature of man, but none of them know the truth-- when fear strips away all else, it’s only cowardice and curiosity that remain.

“Kurei,” creaks the mayor. “What--?”

“It’s over,” he announces. “I must bring the corpse away from here, and bury it.” With a dark look, he adds, “Alone.”

He turns his back on them, letting the moon burn away the mist he leaves behind.

The barmaid here is all curves, coarse tawny hair tumbling down her back, meant to draw the eye straight to her swinging hips. A tempting morsel; at least by the way the men here follow her with their gaze, hungry for more than ale. The barman must have tripled his profits having a girl like her on; there’s no limit to drink a man can have while he’s thirsting with his eyes.

But not Shuuka. His stare is fixed right across the table, brows drawn tight in thought. “That’s some story, mister.”

“And all true.” He waits until the man takes a good, long draught from his cup to add, “I earn my keep traveling, finding spirits to soothe and monsters to cull. Or maidens to save, when the situation demands it.”

“Just maidens?” The barmaid sidles up to him, a frothing mug in hand, and already his mouth is watering. “Or are you looking to expand your repertoire?”

He lets his lips lilt into a leer. “I’m willing to help with any problem that needs solving, maiden or--” he lets his gaze rake up her-- “otherwise. Provided I’m welcome.”

Her own mouth is a mirror of his own. “You seem the sort to always be finding doors open, if you don’t mind me saying, mister.”

“Ah.” He hums, leaning close. The other men in the pub lean in too, faces ripe with envy. “That’s the trick of it-- I wait to be asked.”

Amusement flickers through her eyes, as amber as his own. She sets the mug in front of him, its thick head sloshing over the rim. “Here you are, on the house.”

The maid casts one last, linger look over at him, all hooded. The sort that says he could find more than a drink on the house if he played his cards right. And here’s him, a man who never lost a hand.

“So that’s what brings you here?” Shuuka says, voice tight. Nerves, he thinks, the sort a rational man might have in the face of the unknown. “Sh-- the prince’s mistress?”

Ah, or maybe that’s guilt, he’s hearing. “So it’s true, then? There’s a girl sleeping in that manor house?”

Shuuka’s fingers clench, knuckles white where they lay on the table. “If it was...?”

He doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, just waits.

Dark eyes lift, glimmering as they meet his. “You could do something about it?”

He lets his mouth ease, swallowing down the victory in his throat. “I can’t do anything that would hurt.”

For a long moment, Shuuka sits still. Not the sort that comes from fear or hope but indecision. A man on a precipice.

And oh, how easy it is to see when they jump. “What’s your name? What do they...” He hesitates, swallowing. “What do they call you?”

“Lots of things. Jack of all trades, for one,” he hums, settling back in his seat. “Monster Hunter. Miracle Man. Savior.”

Shuuka’s brow draws tight. “You’re some kind of...priest?”

“Oh, no.” He lets his eyes linger when the barmaid bends at the waist, leaning over the counter to talk to the barman. “Not that. But you can call me...Nanaki.”

There’s a tree.

He surveys the old gnarled grandfather, its thinning leaves rustling in the wind, a single branch hunched over the briars. He should have guessed; it wasn’t like she was going to get her hands dirty and bleeding to take a look at a dead girl.

His hands flex, the leather around them creaking. His palm aches when he presses it to the trunk-- that’ll teach him to get impatient-- but he knows how to climb without relying on his grip. It’s nothing to shimmy right up, soles planted solid on grandfather’s inquisitive arm. He’d call this sloppy-- nobles often were, thinking that guards and dogs and a lady’s scream could keep them safe-- but...

Ten years. Plenty of time for even a well-trimmed tree to insinuate an elbow where it didn’t belong. Especially one that looked as nosy as this old grandfather did.

He edges out, the branch solid beneath his feet. Each step is inquisitive; impatient he may be, but enough tumbles from too high had taught him the value of respecting nature’s limit. The last thing he needs is for this to break over one of those fleur-tipped spears. Career limiting, his old master used to tell him, followed by one of those hideous braying laughs.

Dead was his preference. He might make his money putting on a show, but it didn’t serve to forget that some finales were final.

The branch bows beneath his feet, those iron-tips scraping at its bottom. Looks like he’s ridden this particular pony as far as it’ll go. With a breath and a wish, he leapt from the tree, tumbling down, down--

His feet catch, hard earth beneath them. No, stone, since his foot slips, nearly spilling him straight into a knot of brambles. Pretty ones, at least, dripping with roses as bright as an apple’s skin.

He whistles, plucking a petal off one. “Well now,” he breathes, letting it flutter away in the wind. “Isn’t that lucky.”

Cat calls and wolf whistles cleave through the din when the barmaid wraps her fingers around his wrist, leading him away from the table. There’s glares too, envy making eyes dark as he passes. There will be men who hate him in the morning for no other reason than he had what they couldn’t. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it certainly won’t be the last.

Fine by him, anyway. Angry men are easy to predict-- they only want to do what will cause the most pain. It’s the ones that cheer him on that are dangerous; they need to be courted, molded.

Shuuka is neither. Curious.

“Hey, hero,” the barmaid purrs, pressing her body against his. “Keep your eyes where they belong.”

By the swing of her hips, she means on her. Well, it’s certainly not a bad view.

She sashays up those last few steps, shoving him into a room--

Torou’s smile is gone the moment the latch catches. “You are on your own with this one. I am out.”

Leaving Oberwald takes an extra day; the villagers keep him plied with ale until he tumbles into bed. When he wakes while the sky’s still moonless and dark, two sets of hands rubbing down his chest. Who is he to deny himself a reward so justly earned?

Still, waiting makes the spirits restless.

“Serves you right,” he grouses, rubbing at the new lump dulling the sharp edge of his cheekbone. “You’re supposed to make it look good, not actually hit me!”

The spirit folds her arms across her chest-- or under it, rather, framing their best asset when it comes to fooling these bumpkins. A barmaid with big tits never fails to turn heads, and should someone get suspicious of the girl who disappears when the evil spirit does, well-- no one can pick her face from a crowd.

“Oh, complain, complain.” The huff she lets out doesn’t even have a hint of remorse. “I’m sure you got those village girls to kiss it all better.”

He can’t help his grin. “Two of ‘em.”

“Ugh.” Her eyes roll, the kohl still clinging to the corner of them. It’s the most stubborn part of the makeup, but Torou makes do; by the next town she’ll have wings drawn on so sharp they could cut a man’s throat. “How is it you get to bed down with every miss looking for a good time, but I can only look at all those strapping young farm boys?”

“Pitchforks. Torches,” he reminds her. “Us, running away in the middle of the night...”

No one remembers the barmaid, except for an angry wife. And they know how to drum up some bloody-minded friends once night falls. That’s another thing that makes the spirits angry, but well, that’s not his problem. Maybe if they were more circumspect, they could tumble a few village boys-- or girls-- if they liked.

“Fine,” she mutters, itching at her neck. Some red flakes off, falling to the dirt below, lost beneath the tread of their boots. “Where to next?”

He’d thought he’d been mulling it over still, but the second she asks, it’s the answer at the tip of his tongue. The only one.

“Nowhere that needs a drowned girl!” Torou warns him, pitch raising to one that would make dogs howl. “My ears still don’t feel right after the last one...”

“Clarines.”

She scuffs to a halt. “Clarines? The ‘realm of reason?’ That Clarines?”

He doesn’t stop, just shortens his stride as he puts a jaunty skip in his step. “The very same.”

Her steps start again, hurrying to keep pace with his. “Why? I thought they were enlightened out there. Above all this folk talk.”

“No one is, if we play them well enough.” He slides her a sly smile. “And we will.”

“Best of the best,” she agrees. “So what’s the score?”

His grin pulls wide. “I hope you have your kissing lips ready. We have a princess to awaken.”

His hands fly up between them, trying to ward off her waggling finger. She’s carrying five knives at minimum, but of all the weapons on her body, that finger scares him the most. “Torou, come on--”

“Don’t you ‘come on’ me, Nanaki.” She doesn’t need a steel when her tone’s already so pointed. “I’m not going back there, not even if you beg me. Not even if you drag me. I’ll gnaw off my own leg if you try.”

“Torou, what--?” She shifts, just enough for him to see the wide stretch of her eyes, pupils blown and white all around the rim. “Are you...scared?”

“Scared? Scared?” Torou laughs, wild. “I’m terrified. We’ve played a lot of games, but this, this-- this curse thing, it’s real.”

“Oh, c’mon,” he huffs, leaning against a bedpost. “You know that’s not true. We’ve been running this grift for how long now, and the only supernatural thing out there is how easily everyone will believe it.”

“Listen, that’s what I thought. That’s what I always thought, you know that.” Her voice trembles, shoulders hunching around her chest. “But I went there. I went right into that manor to case the joint-- I knew there’d be stuff in there, stuff we could sell and get out of this rat race.”

His jaw slackens. They’d never talked about that, about what could lie at the end of a real good grift, of what they would do if they had enough coin to stop. He hadn’t even known she’d wanted to, let alone that she--

“I went in there,” she murmurs, rounding into herself. “And someone-- someone screamed.”

He licks his lips, brain jittering with the thought of this ending, or having somewhere to stop. “Screamed?”

“Don’t laugh.” Torou’s voice barely wavers above a whisper. “Someone screamed, and I-- I went to find them. Maybe some kid got in there and broke a leg. I could get some credit you know, really get those bumpkins eating out of my palm. But I walked in and--” she chokes, fingers clawing at her throat-- “there was blood, so much blood, just covering the floor, and then--”

Her breath fills his ears, so harsh, so pained. He’s only heard her like this once, back before, and his blood runs cold.

“And then.” Her hand comes out to grip his wrist, drawing him into her terrified gaze. “It sounded like someone was dying.”

#obiyukibingo21 #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #supernatural au #sleeping beauty au #my fic #age of reason #ans #OKAY SO I GUESS THERE IS AT LEAST ONE MORE CHAPTER #for the set up at least #but perhaps you are all seeing the shape this fic is gonna take...#perhaps if you have read the folk versions of the fairy tale >:3c #also i don't know how i've ended up with so many stories with torou this time around #but here we are #this is the life i'm living this bingo

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cyndalyssa · 3 years

Text

Oh, Look, Another Darkwing Drabble

This one’s a snippet of a bigger story in my head, based on the idea of Bushroot going massive mindless monstrosity.

I dunno if I’ll ever write the rest of the story down, my life tends to get a little busy and I already have a lot of ideas I want to make in my free time, but I at least wanted to exercise the writing muscles.

All was quiet at the Museum of Failed Experiments. The dark of night gave the appearance of rest to each polished display, even those that were still lit. Though dignified it looked, the place was home to quite a bit of failure, hence the name. Each wing, covering branches of science and engineering, was a hall of shame, showing off embarrassments, tragedies, and unfinished projects to the citizens of St. Canard.

It was at this scene that the night guards present had unfortunate encounters. A flower that sprayed sleeping gas, a stun gun, a joy buzzer that ended in instant knockout, being washed into a closet by water from the drinking fountain, and just getting hit by a mallet were their fates, and they were swiftly locked up by the intruders.

The Fearsome Five then had the place to themselves.

As they met up in the lobby, Megavolt couldn’t help but look up, in awe of the enormity of it. “Wowza, they really went all out on this place!” He glanced back at the corridor from whence he came and smiled. “They’ve got gizmos and gadgets aplenty!”

Quackerjack bounced to his side. “And whozits and whatzits galore!”

“They got thingamabobs?”

“Psht, at least twenty!”

Megavolt laughed. “I can’t believe they gave up on some of these! I oughta grab ‘em and show everyone how it’s done!”

Quackerjack grinned. “Oh, I feel you, Sparky! In fact, I’m getting quite a bit of inspiration myself from doodads like the fruit-flavored fireworks! Ooh-hoo-hoo-hoo, can you just imagine a literal explosion of fruity goodness?”

Megavolt narrowed his eyes, his plug hat sparking and an irritated growl in his voice. “How many times have I told you not to call me Sparky?”

“Not like you can remember.”

Cutting between them, the Liquidator piped in, “Fruit-flavored fireworks? The phenomenon of the century, guaranteed to sweeten up your 4th of July celebrations! Comes in apple, cherry, grape, and blue raspberry.”

Bushroot scratched his head. “I’m just wondering how the inventor expected that to work. What kind of chemistry was involved?”

Negaduck rolled his eyes. “Blegh, of course you dweebs get hopped up on exploding fruit snacks. Now remember, children, we’re not here for the fireworks, we’re here for the portal gun that’s supposed to be displayed here… and I expect you to be looking for it!”

The other four silently stared at him for a moment, glanced at each other, and then back to him. Then, Megavolt asked, “Well, what does it look like?”

“It’s red and vaguely gun-shaped, with a spinny thing at the end,” Negaduck answered in baby-talk. Then he snapped, “I’m sure you could figure it out from the display name! Now, get to searching!”

Negaduck stormed upstairs. Quackerjack and Megavolt rushed to the technology wing--partially running from Negaduck, partially rushing to see what kind of doodads they could see. Perhaps even take some and modify them for later mischief.

Liquidator was about to flow down another hall when he noticed Bushroot at the directory. The plant duck glanced the direction of the hall that Quackerjack and Megavolt rushed down, and then up the stairs that Negaduck had descended. Then, almost sneakily, he went in the opposite direction and toward the natural science and chemistry wing.

Curious, Liquidator decided to follow him, and had caught up in a second. “One in ten customers would say that this portal gun is not in this wing, Bushroot.”

Bushroot flinched at the sudden voice, but quickly regained his composure. “Well, uh… when studying the map earlier, I recall that the storage room was somewhere in this direction. It could be in there.”

Liquidator raised a watery eyebrow. “You want an excuse to look around, huh?”

Bushroot glanced away. “Well… it couldn’t hurt. I mean, I’m curious and I don’t know when I’ll be able to have another opportunity for a museum visit.” He looked back to see Liquidator still staring like a disappointed parent. “But I do think storage is in this wing, honest!”

“Hm. Well, if it’s in this direction, why not treat yourself to this once-in-a-lifetime super private tour? Just don’t get too distracted, and it’ll be between you and me.”

“O-oh, that’s no problem. I’m a pretty fast reader.”

The two mutants wandered around the natural science and chemistry wing, looking for a door or hall or basement staircase that led to that storage room. However, Liquidator was doing most of the looking, sweeping around the rooms quickly, while Bushroot, though still looking at the walls in hopes of spotting the passage they were looking for, was circling displays in fascination. There were models and pictures of odd creatures or monstrosities, as well as deformed skeletons of unfortunate souls. He read about attempts to clone prehistoric plants and even animals, a tale of a man who accidentally fused himself with a fly, and the horror of radioactive moss. On occasion, he’d stumble on a display involving water, and invite Likki to take a look.

Every so often, Liquidator would look to see what Bushroot was doing. There were moments that Bushroot seemed to be genuinely looking for that storage room--such as now, when walking along the wall of glass cases full of more experiments, he paused at a gap in the wall, looking at a door, but saw that it was an emergency exit and then moved on. Otherwise, the plant duck was more invested in the science that surrounded him, which Likki had a little trouble relating to. While some of the stuff involving water was interesting, he otherwise didn’t care for the biological stuff that Bushroot was so entranced by.

Meanwhile, so far, the only doors they had found were emergency exits, but nothing leading to any storage or basement at some point. Liquidator was almost of the mind that Bushroot duped him, but Bushy wasn’t like that.

At some point, when Liquidator finally found a hallway that looked promising, Bushroot suddenly cried, “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!”

Alarmed, Likki splashed his way to where Bushroot stood, at a display in the corner about biological chemical disasters. The plant duck was looking quite offended, glaring at one particular shelf where a green substance, surrounded by plant models and photos of a strange machine, sat. Likki took a closer look at the label, which read:

Chloroplast Infusion Solution, Dr. Reginald Bushroot, Ph.D

Skimming over the description of the substance, what it was supposed to do, and how it backfired, Likki just glanced over to Bushroot, who held his head in his leafy hands.

“How humiliating! I can’t believe I made it into the Hall of Shame!”

Likki patted him on the back. “Aw, Bushy, do not fret! After all, you’ve gotten an upgrade! Who needs a normal sad sap scientist when you can have a super plant that can grow a forest with just a thought?”

A sharp glare arose from Bushroot’s palms. “I just wanted to alleviate world hunger… and, uh, maybe get a little respect…”

“Respect, huh?” Likki shook his head. “I’m sure with your power, you can easily command it.”

“There is a difference between respect and fear.”

“Hm. Well, as Bud Flud, I was just a salesman trying to keep my business afloat; but as the Liquidator, I became master of all liquids, one with the water, and a force to be reckoned with!” A sphere of water detached from Likki’s hand and revolved around it. “I know my power, and I revel in it.”

He grabbed the sphere, reabsorbing it. “As for you… well, you’ve got potential, but you lack nerve. Someday, I’d like to see you cut loose, show them what Bushroot is really capable of.”

Bushroot glanced at him, pondering on whether he should remind Liquidator of Negaduck and their shared fear of him, but decided against it. He crossed his arms. “Fine, whatever you say.”

He went back to glaring at the display of his fateful project. “If those two ignoramuses had just minded their own business and not made me look bad in front of the dean, then I would’ve still had the funding to test on the lab rats instead of myself. You know, catch the kinks and find a way to iron them out. But… here I am now.”

“I’d say that career change was for the better.”

“But I liked being a scientist… sure, I hated my coworkers--except one--but I love science.”

Likki shrugged. “Life sucks and we just gotta roll with the punches.” He turned around and marched toward that one hallway. “Now, come on, there’s a storage room calling our names, and who knows when the purple menace will pop in.”

Bushroot sighed, taking one last look at his experiment’s exhibit. “All right, I’ll stop wasting ti--”

He stopped when he caught a name on the display right next to his. Eyes boggling, he grabbed the bottle from that shelf and shouted, “Goodness grapevines! He has one here too?”

Likki stopped and turned around. “Inquiring minds must know… who’s he?”

Bushroot gestured to the name on the display, which, when Likki took a closer look, read ‘Dr. Arthur Bones’. “He was my rival back in college, and he was one of the meanest, most condescending jerks that I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing. I don’t know what I ever did to him, but sometimes it felt like it was his life’s mission just to convince me that everything I do is stupid and dangerous. Hmph, at least my buddy Andrew had my back.”

Liquidator rubbed his chin. “You just have a way of attracting bullies, don’t you? At the very least, you can take some joy that Dr. Bones is also in the Hall of Shame!”

“Yeah, I guess I could.” Bushroot looked at the label on the bottle, brow furrowed in confusion. “Although I do wonder what he was doing making fertilizer. Last I remember, he was into genetics--especially studies on mutations and defects.”

“For more information, check the description--it’s right there.”

Bushroot turned to the description and read aloud, “‘In 1990, a miracle growth formula invented by Dr. Bones took several western states by storm. With a natural sweet scent and potent power, it improved the lives of gardeners everywhere by making plants healthier, stronger, and sturdier against disease and pests, and helping them to grow faster than normal’.” He scratched his chin and nodded. “Well, now I’m tempted to bring it home with me and see what my plants think.”

Liquidator chuckled. “Oh, I bet they’d love it! The amazing miracle fertilizer, guaranteed to create a happy and hearty garden!”

“Ee-hee, it does sound great.” Bushroot’s smile fell into a frown as he turned back to the description. “But this is a Museum of Failed Experiments, so there is a catch here... ‘While at first it seemed to be a blessing, it soon proved to be dangerous for people, as proven with the Mallard High School Football Team during the fall of 1990. Reports of--’”

“I am the terror that flaps in the night!”

The sudden voice from nowhere made them jump. Bushroot even ended up tossing the bottle of fertilizer into the air. He didn’t even hear the second part of the introduction, too distracted by gravity smashing the bottle onto his head. The glass shattered, and fertilizer splashed everywhere on him and the floor, leaving him a dripping mess. His roots started lapping up the puddle that remained.

“I am… Darkwing Duck!”

#darkwing duck #fearsome five #bushroot #liquidator #megavolt #quackerjack #negaduck #drabble #lyssa writes #wishing i had more time and motivation to write

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princessjungeun · 4 years

Text

Sunshine on A Cloudy Day: Sana x Reader

tw// chronic illness, hospitals, needles, mention of cancer

it’s a high school au btw

this is based on my personal experience. pls be respectful as it wasn’t easy for me to write this :)

Your alarm played through your room, waking you up immediately. You pressed snooze at least seven times before actually getting up and dressing yourself for the long day that was to come.

You pulled on your favorite t shirt and pajama pants before tugging on a sweatshirt. You checked the time before packing your bag, making sure to add your laptop and phone along with their chargers, snacks, socks, favorite stuffed animal, and a few extra school assignments.

By the time you made it downstairs your mom was already waiting for you. Quickly she handed you an apple and muffin to eat on the car ride.

“Okay sweetie I have a meeting this morning from 8 until 11. I’ll bring you lunch, just text or call and tell me what you want.” Your mother spoke not taking her eyes off the road as she drove.

Your mom pulled out her wallet and handed you two familiar cards, telling you to tuck them away until someone inside asked for them.

“Alright sweet girl I’ll be back soon, if they have any issues call me and I can sort it out.” Your mom kissed your forehead before letting you out the car, watching you walk inside before driving away.

Your feet felt heavy as the familiar smell of saline and disinfectant filled your nose. You grabbed a disposable mask off the lobby desk and put it on.

As you started to walk towards the elevator a woman called after you “maam!”

You turned around and pulled down the mask “don’t worry I’m still a minor. I’m going to the 4th floor.”

The woman nodded and gave you a thumbs up with a smile before turning back to check in adults.

It was still early so not many people were in the hallways, except the emergency wing. It is always packed no matter what.

You made your way to the fourth floor hoping if you wakes slower you just wouldn’t have to go. But that wasn’t how it worked and you knew it.

When you entered the waiting room you found a seat by the window. The dull grey sky offered no source of light, leaving you to rely on the fluorescent ceiling panels for brightness.

“Miss Y/LN?” The woman at the desk called your name, waving you over.

“Good morning sweetie haven’t seen you for a few weeks now.” She smiled as she spoke her tone was calming but also happy.

She asked “you got the insurance card for me?” You nodded and handed her one of the cards waiting for her to tell you how much you owed for today’s visit.

“And you have a $30 copay today, would you like to take care of that now?” You nodded and handed her the second card your mom gave you earlier. She finished checking you in “alright they’ll call you back in a bit.”

You sat down and pulled out your phone knowing that your girlfriend was actually awake now.

Y/N: hey

Sana 💞: good morning jagi

Sana 💞: you have an appointment today right?

Y/N 💘: yeah...kinda just wanna go back home

Sana 💞: it’s okay i’ll come over after school and make it better

Y/N 💘: you don’t have to i’ll be fine, this isn’t new

Sana💞: no girlfriend obligations

Sana 💞: i’m coming and you can’t stop me

Y/N 💘: okay fine

Y/N 💘: i’ll text you later, they’re calling me back now

•

It didn’t take long for your nurse to call you back and get you situated in a treatment room. There was only one other patient along with you. It was a little girl no more than 3 years old. You didn’t know exactly what she was getting but your heart broke at the thought considering what department you were in, Cancer and Blood Disorders.

It took 3 hours for your IV bag to get delivered to your floor so you turned on the tv hoping something good was on. You settled on Moana, the only thing that wasn’t the news.

“Alright love we just got your bag, you know the drill, vitals every ten minutes for the first 30 then i’ll come every hour. We should have you out in 5 hours if everything goes well okay?” Your favorite nurse Haseul explained to you quickly what was going to happen.

You found yourself in this same spot with her every couple weeks so she knew how you liked things to go.

“So how’ve you been missy? How’s Sana?” She poked your side getting you to smile for the first time today.

You told her “she’s really good...I haven’t seen her in three weeks though. She got sick for two and she had finals this week, but today is her last one.”

Haseul checked “so you didn’t see her when she was sick right? You know you can’t be around that with your anemia.”

You nodded softly remembering why you were even in the hospital in the first place. What was once a slight iron deficiency quickly turned into a chronic anemia that couldn’t be healed with oral supplements. Doctors had no other option than to put you on infusion treatments which sucked.

Although people were definitely going through worse, especially in this department, that didn’t take away from what you dealt with. The constant fatigue, dizziness, falling asleep in class, hair loss, being malnourished, all of it a constant reminder that you weren’t like most.

“Y/N!” Haseul snapped her fingers in front of your face.

You blinked rapidly “sorry what?”

Haseul responded “it’s okay I just needed to make sure you didn’t pass out on me. I need to put on your heart monitor.” She placed the stickers on your chest before grabbing the IV kit she placed on your lap earlier.

“Alright in your hand or arm today?” Haseul knows you prefer the arm but she always asks in case you change your mind.

You simply pointed to your arm before extending it so she could access your vein. Finding your vein was no problem, as you still had a raised bump from the last time you got treatment.

“Okay...and one two- there you go.” Haseul secured the IV with a Tergaderm, which was weirdly enough your favorite part of this whole process.

She left you and cane back every ten minutes to check your vitals before disappearing to help another patient for a bit.

You ended up spending the first two hours dozing in and out of sleep, waiting for your mother to call you. Eventually you did in fact wake up, and to the smell of your favorite food.

Your mother sat in a chair next to you on her phone talking to who you assume is a coworker. Quickly she hung up the phone so she could talk to you instead.

“Hey hows it going so far?” She asked with slight concern.

You told her “ fine just sleeping to pass time that’s all.”

She smiled before handing you a bag of food hoping it’d bring some form of joy to your day.

•

You both ended up enjoying an early lunch together but unfortunately she had to leave the hospital for an emergency meeting. It wasn’t unusual for this to happen so you were used to it, she’d simply be back at the end of your appointment.

Your phone buzzed next to you, pulling your attention away from your mother’s absence.

Sana💞: how are you doing so far?

Y/N💘: it’s good. I’m watching Aladdin now :)

Sana💞: i wanna be there with you rn instead of in math class

Y/N💘: your day is almost over then you can see me

Y/N💘: think of it that way

Sana💞: yeah but i still wish i was with you

Y/N💘: soon

Sana💞: ok fine. i have to go i love you

Y/N💘: i love you too babe

Around the third hour you became irritable and ended up walking the hallways with Haseul. She was honestly the only thing that made you feel normal in this place.

When the two of you got back you were tired and worn out from the walk. It didn’t seem like a long distance to most but you definitely were feeling it.

You found your spot back in the treatment room, sitting in your chair and reclining it back. Just as you were going to close your eyes Haseul called your name.

“Y/N. You’ve got a visitor would you like her to come back?” Haseul didn’t bother to open the curtain to tell you who it was so being the curious girl you were, you allowed it.

Sana walked in with a smile on her face, it was like your sunshine on a cloudy day. It was clear she had just finished school as she was still in her uniform, and she was wearing her backpack.

“Ho- Sana? Why? How did you even get in here?” You asked her through a laugh.

Sana responded “nobody stopped me downstairs and I know you’re on this floor. The lady at the desk outside was very nice too!”

You immediately sat up, not realizing that was a bad idea given your position. Closing your eyes tight you tapped your finger on the arm rest of your chair, waiting for the dizziness to stop.

When you opened your eyes you saw Sana in front of you, a frown on her face. It broke her heart to see you, her girlfriend, in this state. You always tried to make it seem like you weren’t sick but it was very obvious that you still were no matter how much you pretended otherwise.

She placed a blanket over you before running her thumb along your face and softly saying “my baby girl...”

You smiled at her knowing it might possibly make her less sad but it didn’t do much.

She could tell you were tired so she told you “it’s fine just sleep.”

By the time you woke up it was time for you to leave. Haseul had flushed your IV and took your vitals for the last time while you were asleep.

Your mother was downstairs in the parking garage waiting for you and Sana so you could go home.

It was clear by the look on your face that you felt nauseous, a common side effect of your treatment, from the second you stood up.

Sana gathered your things and help you put on your sweatshirt and bag before you two headed downstairs.

You interlocked you’re hand with hers as you felt dizzier with every step you took. She could tell you were having a hard time but she knows how much you try to hide it. When you both made it to the car you fell asleep almost instantly.

Sana helped you to your room, quickly helping you to bed before stealing some of your clothes to wear for herself.

You sleepily held out your arms for her, a soft whimper leaving your lips. She crawled under the covers and you immediately clung to her. You were shivering as if you were standing in snow with only a bathing suit on. Your hands and fingers started turning blue, indicating you body temperature was dropping, a side effect of treatments.

Sana pulled you closer and kissed the top of your head as your fingers curled around her shirt, holding her close.

It only took ten seconds before you started sobbing into her chest. As much as you wanted to pretend you were fine and not in pain, you couldn’t hide it anymore. Breaking down in her arms you sobbed until you fell asleep. She felt terrible knowing there was nothing she could do to fix it, but she knew that you appreciated her being there for you.

You only slept for an hour before you woke up in a cold sweat. Your t shirt clung to your back as you kicked off your blankets seeking some sort of way to cool yourself down. That did little to nothing so you scrambled to the bathroom hoping cold water would do the trick.

Sana knew this was yet another side effect of your treatment, a high fever. Your cheeks burned red as you splashed your face with water in the sink. Much to your relief it worked and you were finally able to get back in bed with her.

Your girlfriend held you in her arms tight as if she never wanted to let go.

“Thank you...” You softly spoke as she drew small circles along the small of your back.

“For what?” She asked curiously.

You mumbled “everything...just everything you do for me.”

She giggled softly “you know i’d do anything for you baby.”

Mumbling softly you told her “i love you.”

She responded quickly “i love you too.”

Letting your eyes close you further melted into her embrace as she tightened her arms around you. In the back of your mind you were reminded why you always said i love you before you fell asleep. Besides the fact that you did in fact love her, but if you happened not to wake up tomorrow, the last thing she heard from you was those three words.

Nevertheless you hoped and prayed you’d wake up in the morning to see her smiling face.

#kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #twice fluff #twice scenarios #twice imagine #minatozaki sana #twice sana

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skylander5000 · 4 years

Text

New Fic Baabby!!

Title: No Time For Us

read on ao3

Word Count: 2.2k

Rating: Teen & Up (for swearing)

Summary: It wasn’t often that all the Avengers were in the tower on a Wednesday night, especially Wolverine. So it seemed only right, in Steve and Natasha’s mind at least, that they have a team movie night. Everyone seemed siked. Now all they had to do was get Iron Man and Wolverine onboard with it. Their partners had been on a work binge, closed up in Tony’s lab for 4 days, only emerging for food and occasionally, if Nat and Steve were lucky, a fuck. So, it was easy to say that they were excited to spend a whole two hours with them.

Natasha and Steve want to have an Avenger's movie night. But, Tony and Laura are Workaholics.

Please consider following me on ao3, Z_is_Me

It wasn’t often that all the Avengers were in the tower on a Wednesday night, especially Wolverine. When there weren’t on a mission or busy preparing for one, the clone was usually upstate at the Xavier Institute, catching up on any Xmen business she missed or helping on what operations she could. So it seemed only right, in Steve and Natasha’s mind at least, that they have a team movie night. Everyone seemed siked. Now all they had to do was get Iron Man and Wolverine onboard with it.

Their partners had been on a work binge, closed up in Tony’s lab for 4 days, only emerging for food and occasionally, if Nat and Steve were lucky, a fuck. So, it was easy to say that they were excited to spend a whole two hours with them.

The two walked down the hallway, excitement coursing through them. Natasha gave a small knock on the lab’s door before entering. It was always a good idea to give the two a little warning, as Tony tended to startle if you pulled him away from his work immediately, and Laura, she was an ex-assassin. So announcing your presents was a necessity if you didn’t want a claw to the head.

As soon as they walked in, they were biting back adoring smiles. Kneeled next to the Iron Man suit was Laura, focused intently on something in the calf of the armor. Her dark eyes narrowed, and her tongue was bitten, reflexively, between her teeth. A Toronto Maple Leaf’s hoodie draped over her like a cloak, ending just above her knee. Tony sat at one of the metal workbenches, hunched over Wolverine’s suit, working vigorously, all the while muttering something along the lines of, how is this even supposed to protect you, it’s fucking spandex. Both of there hands were oil-stained, along with there faces and clothes for that matter.

“Hey guys,” Steve said, grabbing Laura’s attention first. Her enhanced hearing made it almost impossible to ignore people, “What’re you guys doing?” Laura looked at Tony, waiting for him to respond, but he was too infused with his task to talk. The clone sighed, setting her tools on the small tray that was by her feet and stood, knees cracking painfully from how long she’d been kneeling. “Well, the short version is Stark’s armor needed repairs,” That seemed to awaken Tony from his engineer’s trance. He gasped and set down his tools with a loud pang. He swiveled around on the metal stool and approached Laura. “Correction, the short version is your suit was overdue for upgrades because seriously it’s spandex,” He said pointedly, “My suit didn’t need repairing until you decided it be a good idea to throw the vibranium slip-joint pliers at me,” Laura shrugged, “You’re the one who said, hey can you toss me those pliers,” Tony rubbed his temple, spreading more oil onto his face, causing Natasha and Steve to have to stifle chuckles, “It’s an expression, casual slang. Why don’t you go learn some, Wolfey,” Laura crossed her arms over her chest, causing the hoodie to slide up and expose the shorts she was wearing underneath, “Do you wanna try that again because I’m this close to revoking Cerebro privileges?”

From the outside, it may seem like Laura and Tony disliked each other. They were always bickering and were very stingy with physical contact. But, that was just how their friendship was. Sure, they quarrel like children. But, the insults that passed between them held no true teeth. Laura, whether she would ever admit it or not, would always see Tony as a father. And Tony, although he tried to hide it, would always see Laura as a daughter.

“So,” Steve said, breaking their social bubble and inserting himself and Natasha into it, “We were thinking about having a movie night. Everyone’s in the tower, we don’t have any missions at the moment,” “We’d think it be fun,” added Natasha, smiling at Laura. Her girlfriend reciprocated the smile, but her eyes showed obvious dislike for the idea. Natasha knew Laura hated watching movies, the volume was always too loud for her sensitive ears, even with headphones. But, there were other things you could during movies, especially if you sat in the very back. “You guys in?” Steve asked, blue eyes shining with excitement. As if sent by the gods, Laura’s phone chimed. Natasha sighed as she pulled it out to check. She read the message quickly before looking at them all. “Hank just sent over a bunch of mission reports and requests that need my approval,” She said, tucking her phone back into the pocket of her hoodie. Natasha nodded, excitement dampened. Steve looked at Tony, eyes hopeful. “Steve, I’ve got twice the upgrades to do now, since Laura is going to be filling out reports,” The Captain nodded in response to his husband, joining Nat in sulking.

Laura gave Natasha a quick peck on the cheek, saying that she’d try her best to hurry so they can spend some time together tonight, before disappearing off into another part of the tower. Most likely their bedroom, seeing as that was where her laptop was. Tony smiled at the supersoldier, brown eyes showing that he was sorry. With a swift kiss, Tony turned back to his work, body returning to its hunched position.

Steve and Natasha returned to the living room, where the remainder of the team had piled up and the couches and floor. Bucky was the first to take notice of their solemn expressions, “What’s wrong?” That question seemed to grab everyone’s attention, everyone’s eyes now on the two of them. Steve looked down, kicking his foot uncomfortably. “They’re busy,” Nat answered, sitting down on the couch in between Clint and Wanda. Peter gave a reassuring smile, “It’s okay Pops. It can just be us for tonight,” The soldier smiled at his son’s attempts to cheer him up, “Thanks Pete,”

There was a moment of silence, everyone returning their attention to the television. Wanda looked beside her, at Natasha, “Didn’t she cancel on you last week?” “Yep,” the spy said, pout deepening, “We made them two weeks in advance to avoid our schedules from overlapping,” “What can you do?” Clint quipped, snatching the remote from Bucky, who was about to pick some movie from the ’60s for them to watch. Bucky was about to retaliate with a knock to the head but was quickly soothed by Sam, who pulled closer into his side.

“Well,” The pararescuer answered, “You could always show some initiative in your relationships and force them to watch the damn movie. The problems are just gonna keep coming, no matter how much they try to solve them. There’s always something else that needs fixing,”

Natasha and Steve looked at each other, understanding passing between them, wordlessly. Without speaking they dashed, in unison, to their partner’s work stations; Tony’s being the lab, of course, and Laura’s being her and Natasha’s bedroom.

“Tones,” Steve said softly, placing a hand on his husband’s shoulder. Tony grunted in response, picking up one of the tools spread haphazardly around the table. “Come with me,” The blonde commanded, swiveling the man around on his stool, prying his eyes away from his current task. He gave a confused look to Steve, who simply raised his eyebrows expectantly in return. “Where to?” “You’re gonna watch the movie with us,” Steve said excitedly. “Baby,” Tony sighed, already turning back to the workbench, “I’m kinda busy right now. Tomorrow, I promise,” Steve planted a firm hand on the seat and forced Tony to face him. His eyes were serious and his expression was no longer to the gentle soldier from Brooklyn. Now he was Captain America, “No,” The engineer set down his tools, eyes locked with his husbands, “I’m not gonna lie, this is turning me on a bit,”

Steve gave an irritated huff, removing his hand from the stool. This time, Tony didn’t turn around. Steve had his full attention, “You’ve been working for almost a week straight. Peter and I have rarely seen you. You’ve barely spoken to the team since you Wolverine got back from the mission in Ireland. You need to take a break and spend time with us. Staying cooped up in your lab isn’t solving any problems. Frankly, it’s only creating more,” “Babe, I-” Tony gestured to the pile of parts on the table. He was going to argue that he had to do this, that it was important, and it couldn’t wait. But, Steve had cut him, taking those oil-stained hands in his calloused ones, “Please,”

Steve knew, by the defeated look on his husband’s tan, beautiful face, that he’d won. But, Tony Stark was never one to go down without a proper fight, “Are you guys making Laura do this?” Steve gave an amused grin, already pulling Tony from his seat, “Natasha is retrieving her as we speak,”

They exited the lab, meeting a very pleased Natasha and a somewhat grumpy Laura. While Steve restrained his smile, Tony made no effort to hide his amusement at Laura’s current disposition. “They’re horrible aren’t they,” The billionaire said, although it had no heat. “A temptress, that’s what I’m dating,” Laura said through a tired smile. Natasha let a light laugh, hugging the clone further into her side. “Hey, you’re lucky. I married him,” Tony joked. “Guys, come on,” Steve said through a laugh, “The movies waiting,” gesturing towards the end of the hallway that branched out into the living room.

They began down the hallway before Tony stopped them, “Laura aren’t you forgetting something?” “I don’t think so,” She shrugged. “Um,” He gestured to her bare legs, “Pants, maybe?’ Laura rolled hers, and continued down the hallway, “God, calm down dad,” Sure it was a joke and was meant to be taken as a playful tease. But still, it tugged at Tony’s heartstrings, hearing that word come from Laura’s mouth. Even if, it was just a joke.

So far, movie night seemed to be a success. Sure, it got off to a rocky start, but everything had pretty much settled now. Steve, Tony, and Peter were snuggled up the couch, Peter already fast asleep and drooling on Cap’s shoulder. Bucky was sat on the floor between Sam’s legs. Vision and Wanda were cuddled close in one of the plush armchairs. Thor and Bruce had left halfway through the movie, apparently, they needed to take care of something. Clint and Rhodey were sat on the other love-seat, very much enjoying the movie. That only left Natasha and Laura.

They were sat in the very back, both for Laura’s sensitive hearing and privacy. PDA, while it wasn’t forbidden in the tower, was not Laura’s favorite thing. She preferred privacy, so that should comfortably express herself around Natasha, without worrying about peeping eyes. So, with everyone’s backs facing them, focused on the movie ahead, Laura deposited herself on top of her girlfriend, who was comfortably laid out on the chaise lounge.

Everyone appeared to be happy and healthy, and thoroughly enjoying movie night and the whole the togetherness of it. That was until Natasha felt a familiar hand creeping up her thigh. “Natty,” Laura whispered into her ear, hand settling just above the redhead’s hip. Natasha chuckled, just soft enough for it to go unnoticed over the volume of the television, “Hey Laura,” “It’s been a bit, y’know,” Laura said, planting feather-like kisses down the column of her throat. The spy hummed, pleased with the attention, “And whose fault is that,” Laura sighed, head resting against her partner’s shoulder, “I’m sorry,”

Natasha was taken aback. Her tone was so unexpectedly genuine, that it crushed the woman’s heart. Sometimes her girlfriend, the clone trained to be an assassin from birth, could be so damn precious.

“It’s fine,” Nat reassured, rubbing a hand soothingly down her back as best she could from where it was trapped beneath her toned mass. “No, it’s not. I’ve been an asshole and I’m really sorry,” Laura paused a moment, before continuing, “You deserve better,”

Natasha couldn’t believe it. How could Laura think she deserved better? Laura was better. Nat loved her more than anything and would do her best to give the girl anything her heart desired.

Natasha pulled the clone’s head out, from where it’d been resting against her shoulder, so she could look directly into her eyes. Although she spoke barely above a whisper, Natasha was careful to put as much legitimacy into her statement as possible, “Laura, I love you, so, so much. You’re dedicated to your work, to this team, to the X-men. They need you and I get that. If anything, I don’t deserve you,”

A blush crept it’s way up Laura’s neck and onto her sharp cheeks, causing Natasha to smile, “You’re so damn precious,” Laura rolled her eyes, “Shut up,” although Nat could spy the grin replacing her frown, “And, I love you, too,” Laura moved to kiss, Natasha, only to be stopped once again by a gentle tug on her hair that, if she was being honest, was having more of an effect on her than she’d care to admit. “But,” Nat said, lips moving against Laura's as she did, “I do think you need to make more time for your personal life; that including me of course,” “I’ll try,” The clone replied before kissing her. “You will,” Natasha corrected, reciprocating immediately.

#stony #laura kinney x natasha romanov #tony stark #steve rogers #laura kinney #laura is an avenger #superfamily #fluff #romantic fluff #Skylander2000 writes

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tigerkirby215 · 4 years

Text

My worries for Tasha's Subclasses

(Artwork by Wizards of the Coast)

It seems pretty much confirmed that every Unearthed Arcana that’s still considered “relevant” (IE the ones that are a year old and haven’t been officially deconfirmed by WoTC) (IE IE the ones on D&D Beyond) is going to be coming to Tasha’s Cauldron. The only thing that has been confirmed otherwise is that the Psionic Talent Die is going to be changed, which is why I’m not going to comment on any of the psionics subclasses.

However I do have some worries about the subclasses that received a poorer reception. So I guess as a way to document my thoughts, or because I don’t want this account to just be D&D builds I want to give my thoughts and worries on all the current Unearthed Arcana subclasses.

ARTIFICER

The only Artificer we’ll be getting is the Armorer, but we’re also getting a full reprint of the Artificer to “de-Eberron” the class. We’re also confirmed to have new Infusions which makes me extremely hopeful. (I hope they’re not just the infusions from the Artificer UA.)

Regardless I may as well talk about the infusions as well as the Armorer subclass:

ARMORER

The only problem I really have with the subclass is, ironically enough, right on the tin of the subclass. Giving Artificer heavy armor proficiency makes an already extremely tanky class even tankier. I think being able to wear Heavy Armor while dumping Strength is a little much, especially since the weapons also use your Intelligence modifier. It just reeks of min-maxing, and while thankfully Intelligence isn’t as broken as Charisma for the sake of multiclassing shenanigans (no Paladins with a 1 level Hexblade dip) I still think Artificer is going to be extremely strong for Intelligence subclasses like Eldritch Knight, Rune Knight, and ironically enough Arcane Trickster.

Yeah that’s another big problem with the class: the Infiltrator armor. Rogues in Heavy Armor without stealth disadvantage? My favorite. It’s a cool visual but again I don’t want to deal with a 20 AC Rogue. Everything else with the subclass is honestly fine but my problems start and end with Heavy Armor that doesn’t require Strength.

INFUSIONS

Armor of Magical Strength - Similar problems that I have with Armorer subclass, but it’s conceptually fine since it’s limited by level and charges.

Armor of Tools - It sucks but it’s fine.

Helm of Awareness - I honestly think “Alert on a stick” is fine. Infusion slot and Attunement slot for a Feat is fair.

Mind Sharpener - Just… no. Should not be printed. You shouldn’t be able to fail concentration twice.

Spell-Refueling Ring - Just let us build a Spell Storing Ring (IE the magic item.) And not at level 6. Level 10 maybe; level 14 most likely.

BARBARIAN

PATH OF THE BEAST

Thank god for alphabetical order. I honestly think Path of the Beast is fine and I could see the subclass printed without any changes. It’s a little underwhelming but conceptually fine, and it fulfills a good fantasy. I even think the healing ability of the Bite is fine; Battlerager could get Temp HP every turn and that was fine. The ability to heal is balanced out by the weaknesses of the class when compared to the likes of Totem Barbarian.

PATH OF THE WILD SOUL

Ooooh boy now here’s where my problems lie. This entire subclass is bonkers and should not be printed.

WILD SURGE

Oh cool a massive damage nuke plus temp HP for a tank class.

Oh cool unlimited teleportation for a melee class.

Arguably the worst one but still a massive damage nuke for free.

Oh cool more AC and damage reflection for a tank.

Okay the actual worst one and arguably the only “bad” one.

Oh cool making it harder to hit a tank.

Oh cool dual wielding with a Greataxe, and giving a melee character ranged options.

Oh cool an Iron Man laser at the start of a fight that bursts enemies and sets them up for you to attack them.

This ability should have more negative options. The entire point of Wild Magic is to have a chance to screw you over or a chance to majorly help. The class also doesn’t need three different damage nukes at the start of rage. (Equaling a 3/8 chance to just nuke the enemy.)

MAGIC RESERVES

The single dumbest ability ever printed on a class in 5e. I honestly see no way to make this balanced, even if it was limited to once per long rest. Also how the hell is this balanced for 6th level? This should be the 10th level ability at least.

ARCANE REBUKE

Free damage as a reaction. This ability is simultaneously super underwhelming and way too powerful.

CHAOTIC FURY

Makes your stupidly OP level 3 ability even more “reliable.” And unlike WM Sorcerers you have a 2/8 chance to get something good; not a 2/50 chance.

BARD

I honestly have no problems with the College of Creation beyond the level 3 Bardic Inspiration feature, which is underwhelming.

I doubt College of Spirits is going to come out. It’s way too early for that subclass since it hasn’t been tested enough.

CLERIC

TWILIGHT DOMAIN

Honestly I remember thinking this subclass was really overpowered but looking it over again… It’s fine? Other than the fact that the level 17 ability is poopy it’s fine.

UNITY DOMAIN

Also got no major problems with this subclass. A bit on the strong end but no worse than some of the existing Clerics.

DRUID

They’re both great and I have no complaints.

FIGHTER

Rune Knight is a very mixed bag for me. On one hand I love the growth ability and I think it makes Rune Knight a great universal damage class while also having a great mental fantasy to it.

On the other hand this class is almost entirely based on the runes? And what I find especially confusing is that the runes seem way more powerful than “doing an extra d6 of damage.” Yet Giant’s Might is limited to long rests and the runes come back on a short rest?

I’d personally like to see Giant’s Might have only one or at most 2 charges, but have the ability come back on a short rest. But to compensate I think the runes should be limited by long rests, since they’re so powerful as is. This would also make the ability to unlock more runes as you level up more useful, as it would give you more options throughout the day instead of being overloaded with actions that aren’t fighting as a fighter.

Oh and let’s talk about those runes, hm?

Hill - So Barbarian’s Rage is limited by long rests, but the rune that literally recreates Rage’s damage absorption is short rest reliant? Kk.

Fire - Cool worse Hold Person that they can save against every turn. Arguably the weakest rune, though probably the coolest mental image. I’d actually be okay with this one remaining short rest reliant.

Frost - I honestly don’t think getting +1 to Strength-based stuff is that OP. The dumb thing is that this gives you advantage on skill checks with two skills passively. Animal Handling and Intimidation aren’t amazing but they aren’t useless either.

Cloud - Again two skills you get Advantage on, but Slight of Hand and Deception are more situational. Redirecting an attack is also situational; can be strong but you need a target to redirect it to among other things. Also one of the more balanced runes.

Stone - By far the best passive boost combined with by far the worst active ability, but that isn’t to say that a 1 minute pseudo-banish is useless.

Storm - Alert on a stick? Advantage on a skill you’re probably going to be making a lot of skill checks for (as an Intelligence character)? TEN CHARGES OF THE LUCKY FEAT? Excluding the zillion and one other synergies with this rune (hey do you want your Rogue to sneak attack completely for free) being able to screw with hit percentages is a quick way to break encounters in 5e.

IMO the Fire, Frost, and Cloud runes are fine. The Stone rune is a bit too strong passively but I think it would be balanced if it gave advantage to something other than Insight. Hill and Storm are way too strong though: Hill should be limited to Long Rests and Storm should be outright reworked.

Other than that Defensive Runes is OP but it’s probably going to be limited to a number of times equal to your Intelligence mod (akin to Artificer.)

MONK

Woo boy here we go.

WAY OF MERCY

The big problem with this subclass is that it’s extremely weak early but insanely strong late. A melee range Healing Word (d4 + WIS) is insanely underwhelming but 20 charges of Cure Wounds that you can use while also attacking 3 times is ridiculous.

Oh and you know what’s especially ridiculous? Doing 4d10 damage to an enemy that’s incapacitated or poisoned! Hands of Harm is conceptually meh but with the triple damage to incapacitated enemies this suddenly lets a Monk pump out 16d10 damage for 5 Ki points (which they get back on a Short Rest!) To put this into perspective Psychic Scream does 14d6 damage - less die rolled and a smaller die size! Yeah yeah “but Psychic Scream is AoE and stuns!” doesn’t stop the fact that this subclass is doing a 9th level spell’s worth of damage.

Noxus Aura is conceptually stupid and makes a class that’s already hard to kill with ranged attacks near-impossible to kill with ranged attacks. Healing Technique lets you cast a second level spell along with your first level spell every turn but I suppose it’s situational. And Hand of Mercy? Oh okay 20 days of being unable to move and being damage immune.

This subclass is a complete mess and while I’m fine with a healer Monk it shouldn’t also double as one of the strongest DPS classes in the game. “It uses a lot of Ki points” yes but Ki points come back on a short rest. You shouldn’t have four 9th level spells per short rest.

WAY OF THE ASTRAL SELF

Honestly I think this subclass is fine with the exception of how many attacks it gets, which completely screws with action economy, average hit percentages, and just general DPS. No class should be able to outright ignore one of its earlier features because a new feature it gets is just objectively better, and Astral Self gets to ignore Flurry of Blows because it has it 24/7. I get that they wanted to recreate the JoJo Stand Rush but Monks already attack 4 times, which is more than enough.

PALADIN

Oath of the Watchers is honestly fine if a little weak. My only problem with the subclass is that it has a very Ranger-esque problem of being way too good at what it’s meant to do. (IE fight Extraplaner Threats.)

“But you said Wild Soul doing damage with its reaction was OP!” The difference is that Oath of the Watchers has limited range and is limited to spells, so unlike Wild Soul you can’t do free damage to the giant who just tried to smash you with his club.

RANGER

I’ve given my complaints about Fey Wanderer before. Basically I think the subclass is way too weak, but if they buff it up I think it would be fine. As for Swarmkeeper it’s conceptually weird but in terms of balance it’s fine.

ROGUE

I remember really disliking the Phantom Rogue but looking at it again… it’s fine? I still think the major problem with the subclass is its flavor, and while you can reflavor it decently well (I still really like the concept of a Transdimensional Trickster, playing as a foil to the Horizon Walker Ranger) I think the core concept is far too edgy for most people.

I’ve actually personally played a low level Phantom Rogue for a one shot and I think Wails from the Grave are fine if a little weak overall. I think Ghost Walk is a little OP (as you can give enemies essentially permanent disadvantage to hit you every fight, along with the ability to ignore terrain) but everything else is honestly fair.

SORCERER

I still don’t like Clockwork Soul. I think XP to Level 3 sums it up best (6:33):

youtube

Basically the early level abilities are fine but at late level you get:

An insanely high guarantee to hit your attacks (not everything at level 14 is going to have 20 AC, but if the enemy you’re fighting has 20 AC or lower you have a 100% guarantee to hit them) + a massive defensive boost (on top of your already massive defensive capabilities.)

A 9TH LEVEL HEAL SPELL FOR 7 SORCERY POINTS???

“But it’s a high level ability!” Yeah high level abilities shouldn’t be completely ass-blast bonkers. The high levels exist to be played and you can’t defend broken high level abilities with “well you won’t get to high level anyways.”

WARLOCK

My sweet darling baby Warlock. Probably doesn’t come as a surprise to people that I think both the Warlock subclasses are great, and it also probably doesn’t come as a surprise that I have personally played both of them!

Undead probably isn’t going to get in (good because I really don’t like that subclass) so let’s talk about the others:

GENIE

Currently playing a mid tier (level 8) full Genie Warlock in a campaign. First of all I want to say that I love the versatility built into this class with the four different sub-subclasses you can pick.

Anyways this subclass ironically feels like the “Warlock+” class akin to Champion Fighter (Fighter+), Open Hand Monk (Monk+), and Eloquence Bard. (Bard+) At level 3 you get a safe place to short rest (Bottled Respite) and a mini Agonizing Blast (Genie’s Wrath.) Level 6 you get three charges of non-concentration flight which is huge for a class that doesn’t get a lot of spells. Level 10 you can now get a safe short rest for your whole party. And level 14 gives you another spell slot once ever 1d4 days.

I think the roleplay opportunity with this subclass is great given the versatility between sub-subclasses and the ability to essentially carry a house with you. My only major problem with the Genie Warlock is that I find it hard to create a character who isn’t just Aladdin. I found it a lot easier to play this subclass when I started thinking of the patron as just an elemental instead of a genie specifically, but I hope Tasha’s Cauldron will come with some lore inspiration for people who want to play the Genie Warlock, because I think the subclass is very fun and well designed!

Still a little salty that my Yuumi build is outdated because of the rework to Genie, but who knows I might make a Unity Domain Yuumi when Tasha’s Cauldron comes out.

LURKER IN THE DEEP

I took a 6 level dip in this subclass for a Bardlock awhile ago. I will say I love this subclass but again ironically my only major complaint with the subclass is that it focuses too much on its theme. I would’ve much rather preferred a general “summoner” Warlock, but I acknowledge that Warlock subclasses don’t really work like that. So a Kraken Patron is honestly fine for this concept, and I can tolerate all the strange fish-related abilities while reflavoring the subclass.

WIZARD

I’m not a big fan of the Order of the Scribes, since I personally feel that it doesn’t really fulfill the “living spellbook” theme.

I have a few small complaints about the class’ features: I don’t like that the subclass is able to replace the damage type of a spell completely liberally. (Sorcerers have to use Sorcery Points and Metamagic to do that?) I also think the level 14 ability is rather underwhelming, but that can be fixed.

Other than that I think the subclass is conceptually fine? But I still feel like there’s more you can do with the theme.

TL;DR

I’m very worried about the following classes:

Mind Sharpener Artificer Infusion (You shouldn’t be able to lose concentration twice.)

Wild Soul Barbarian (Every single ability that this subclass gets is overpowered and I’m really worried about this Wild Magic Spellslot Battery Clown Fiesta subclass.)

Way of Mercy Monk (Comedically overpowered with the highest DPS of any Monk subclass along with massive healing output and a TWENTY DAY LONG PARALYSIS?!)

Clockwork Soul Sorcerer (Late game abilities are OP.)

I am mildly worried about the following classes:

Armorer Artificer (Having such liberal access to Heavy Armor is a bit too strong imo.)

Rune Knight Fighter (I think some of the runes need a major rework, and I’d like more of a focus to be put on the Giant’s Might ability.)

Way of the Astral Self Monk (Too many attacks.)

Oath of the Watchers Paladin (It’s a little too good at fighting extraplanar threats.)

I am disappointed with the following classes:

Fey Wanderer Ranger (I think the abilities are really weak compared to existing Rangers, and considering we’re talking about Ranger that’s saying a lot.)

Order of the Scribes Wizard (I think there’s more you can do with the concept.)

And everything else is fine.

#dnd #dnd 5e #Unearthed Arcana #tasha's cauldron of everything

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wedreamerz · 4 years

Text

The Island of Maravu - Chapter 2

The Island of Maravu

Chapter 2 - The Bunker

Pairing: Starker AU (Peter is 22)

Rated: Overall: E / Chapter: T

Status: WIP

Summary: The Avengers are in shambles and Tony Stark just needs to get out from under the fallout. So, he does what every genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist does - he buys an island. Maravu is just the escape Tony is looking for until one morning a beautiful young man arrives with secrets and a smile that makes Tony’s broken heart beat again.

Some Tags: AU, A little angst, Smut and Fluff is the goal here people but I can’t just do that apparently without backstory and plot. No real trigger warnings that I can think of unless water or storms are an issue for you. If you run into something I didn’t think of, let me know.

Chapter 1

~~~~~~~~~~

The birds hated him. They were in cahoots. Thirty-three days on Maravu and the birds woke him up before the sun every freaking morning. Tony stirred, rolled over and scowled at the open window. They were at it again.

He groaned and put a pillow over his head.

"Friday, play something loud."

"Playing your Something Loud playlist," Friday said. Tony rolled his eyes, noting the amusement in her voice before the opening guitar riff of Def Leppard's Photograph blasted through the speakers.

The cabin, a simple, but cozy one-room affair with a fireplace, sofa, kitchenette and dining room table, suited him perfectly. One of the two luxury items he'd insisted upon, besides Friday and the technical upgrades he'd made, was the queen-sized bed that dominated the bedroom area of the cabin. He'd have flown in a king if it would have fit. But even the queen was pushing it.

The cabin came equipped with an attached bathroom and shower. But Tony had grown accustomed to showering in the original, outdoor shower that ran using accumulated rainwater. Something about showering outside in the sun brought out the hedonist in him.

During his first week on Maravu, Tony installed a self-sustained arc reactor to solve the electricity problem and ensured they’d had fast reliable wi-fi. The plantation resumed operation the following week with Mr. Umbari as manager. Tony liked the huge mountain of a man. They worked well together and at the end of a long day, he often sought out his calming presence at the community fire that burned in the village's center courtyard most evenings.

They would talk about the day and share a drink before retiring. Tony liked to watch him talk, his expressive, deeply lined face and white, wiry hair and beard that stood up as though it had a mind of its own. Mr. Umbari had learned to speak English by watching episodes of old American shows like MASH and Happy Days and Tony found himself smiling when now and then he recognized a familiar phrase. When the reactor went live, Mr. Umbari had celebrated by giving Tony the double Fonzie thumbs before dragging him into a chest busting hug.

For the most part, the islanders didn't intrude on Tony’s solitude. Mr. Umbari was a fair and able leader, so Tony didn't get involved in the day to day operations unless they needed him. But periodically he'd be working in the lab he’d set up near his cabin and hear someone call out "Turaga Ni Kaukamea!" Tony would look outside to see someone emerge from the trees and request his assistance at the plantation.

Mr. Umbari addressed him as Mr. Stark even after Tony had invited him to call him by his first name. But the rest of the islanders called him Turaga Ni Kaukamea or sometimes just Kaukamea. Friday had translated it as basically Man of Iron.

So, they were aware of who he was. But no one ever asked to see the suit or wondered why he'd chosen to live on the island when it was clear his own house was in such disarray. They didn't bring it up at all. They expressed their gratitude in humble ways and treated him like anyone else on the island, which was perfect with Tony.

He peeked out from under his pillow to find that the sky has lightened into a midnight blue with the faint orange glow of dawn creeping up behind the windowsill.

"Okay, okay. Stop the music and start the coffee," he said, giving in. "And play me something tropical.”

"You do realize that the current temperature is 76 degrees with a humidity of 94%?" Friday asked as the sound of steel drums and ukulele began.

"My body still thinks it's December in New York, don't judge me," Tony snarked back, smiling when the coffee pot came to life. The rich aroma of the local blend infused his little cabin as the sun crested the horizon.

Tony threw back the sheet and stretched. He drew a deep breath and padded naked across the wood floor to the little kitchenette that consisted of the smallest stove he'd ever seen, a microwave, and a refrigerator that was straight out of the '70s in avocado green. The fanciest thing in the kitchen was his second luxury item – his beloved Concordia espresso machine.

He poured a cup into one of the chipped mugs that had come with the place and took it outside to the fire pit he'd built in the dooryard. His cabin was far enough away from the beach to be safe from the tide but close enough that his view from the fire was the perfect place to watch the sun come up. Tony lit the fire and settled into his camp chair with his coffee to do just that.

Although he tried to focus on his plans for the day, his mind wandered down paths he preferred to avoid. He tried not to spend his time worrying about the wayward Avengers, Rhodey, and the countless ways he had and continued to fail Pepper. But in those quiet moments when it was just him and the traitorous birds, Tony let it in.

He rubbed his chest. Like a phantom limb, it ached as it had for months after his last meeting with Steve.

And Barnes.

Tony sighed. Pepper had insisted he see a shrink after everything went down. He'd gone - a couple of times. But he still couldn't talk about it. Hell, he couldn't even think about it without igniting the flame of resentment and hatred. Logically he understood that Barnes had been brainwashed by Hydra. He was no more responsible for his actions than Clint had been for what he'd done when under the power of Loki's scepter.

Nevertheless, here Tony was. If Barnes were to materialize before him, Tony would probably try to bash his head in with a coconut.

Probably. Maybe.

Barnes may have the benefit of Tony’s doubt, the mind-controlled pass. But Steve...Cap…he’d made his choices all on his own. Tony oscillated between hope and fear that the big, stubborn man would get caught. He had no idea what he would say to the man if he ever saw him again. But he had the little burner phone Steve had mailed to Tony Stank tucked into his sock drawer nonetheless.

The temperature had risen just a little. On the horizon, Tony spied a rain cloud, one of those slow-moving clouds you could watch approach with its sheets of rain that blanketed the island at least once a day.

He frowned.

"Friday, what's the weather supposed to be like today?"

"Fair in the morning with severe thunderstorms rolling in at approximately 1:34 P.M."

"I suppose I should get started then," he said, gulping down the rest of his coffee. He put the mug in the sink and fished a fresh pair of shorts and a t-shirt from his dresser. It was time to check on the arc reactor.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Boss, the Fiji Meteorological Society has issued a tropical storm warning with potential for rotation in this area and is expected it hit earlier than expected," Friday warned.

Tony crawled out from under the arc reactor's electronics panel and adjusted his glasses.

"How bad?" he asked, wiping his hands on a towel. He peered up at the doughnut-shaped reactor housing. The walls of the cave in which he'd built it flickered blue and purple as it purred softly.

There was a certain amount of poetic justice in this, he thought. He'd started this in a cave. And now here he was again, minus the car battery and armed guards. And this arc reactor was designed only to help.

Tony climbed a small set of metal stairs, freshly painted safety yellow, which led to the ground floor. He opened a set of doors and entered the circular antechamber where islanders could look through the reinforced glass at the arc reactor below. They'd installed bunker doors at the mouth of the cave for emergencies. But they were usually left open to the public. The reactor itself was locked and protected by Friday. No one entered without Tony's knowledge.

Outside, the palm trees swayed and here and there little puffs of dirt from the path twisted into the air with leaves and rocks. Tony had been in the reactor bunker for a few hours and the wind had picked up considerably.

"Radar indicates wind speed of approximately 22 miles per hour. No active rotation," Friday said.

Tony chewed his lip and considered the news. When he'd moved in, Mr. Umbari had gone over their storm preparedness plan. The island had a storm bunker for its inhabitants. As though he'd summoned the man, Mr. Umbari and his orange menace of a golf cart sped around the corner. He slid in next to Tony's red cart, barely missing the tail end as he turned the sharp corner. Tony chuckled and shook his head as Mr. Umbari unfolded his long legs and climbed out from under the orange and white striped canopy. He hurried toward the bunker as the first drops of rain plip-plopped against his yellow rain slicker. As soon as he saw Tony Mr. Umbari grinned and waved. Tony ushered him inside and hit the button to close the bunker doors.

"Mr. Stark. The boys said you were here," Mr. Umbari said, entering through the single door.

"Yeah, I was just checking on the reactor, giving her a tune-up. Friday says we've got a storm on the way?"

Mr. Umbari had been introduced to the AI and he seemed completely charmed by her.

He smiled at the ceiling. "Hello, Ms. Friday. Thank you for keeping Mr. Stark so informed."

"It's my pleasure, Sir," she answered in her pleasant Irish lilt earning a grin from Mr. Umbari.

"Unfortunately, Ms. Friday is correct, Sir. Since this is your first storm on the island, I wanted to make sure that you were safe."

"Thanks for your concern. I'll finish up here and go down to the cabin, batten down the hatches and be in the bunker in time for dinner, Dad." Tony smiled at the large man as he put away his tools."

Mr. Umbari laughed, deep and genuine. "Good, good. I'm glad to hear it. I hear that Skillet has already begun a pot of lamb stew for the occasion."

Tony's stomach growled at the thought of food and he realized he hadn't eaten yet today.

"Skillet's cooking?" Tony asked and Mr. Umbari grinned.

"If Skillet's in the kitchen I'm not gonna miss it," Tony said.

Kitchen wizard and culinary school dropout, Skillet worked the plantation to help pay off his student loans. But one meal at Skillet's table told Tony that the young Fijian was wasting his talents.

Tall, whip-thin, with long black curls he kept up in a messy bun most days, the kid could cook rings around the overpriced chefs at any of the five-star Manhattan restaurants. Tony had offered to pay his debt and set him up in a spot of his own, wherever he wanted. But Skillet turned him down every time.

Tony, being Tony, had been trying to come up with a loophole that kid would accept to no avail. But he had one final trick up his sleeve he planned to save until the right moment. As Tony's chef, Skillet would both pay down his debt and have his talents recognized by the top critics around the world at the events Tony threw. It was a win-win for both of them.

Mr. Umbari nodded, evidently pleased with Tony's response.

"Good. Good. I should go to make sure the animals are safe. I will see you there, my friend! Goodbye, Ms. Friday," he said.

Tony smiled, amused at the way the islanders treated everything with a relaxed acceptance. Even in the face of a potentially damaging storm, they prepared for a gathering of families.

"See you there."

~~~~~~~~~~

Tony stepped into the storm bunker and was immediately enveloped in the delicious aroma of stew and fresh bread. He breathed in deeply and looked around the room, impressed by the setup. The bunker looked like a basement with concrete walls and floors. A bar and small kitchen stood on the right side of the room where Skillet was working his magic. The left side was lined with padded seats. They'd made the cold, grey room into a warm and comfortable place to gather with tapestries on the walls, and woven rugs and pillows on the floors.

"Turaga ni kaukamea!" several children called and swarmed, reaching up to be held and tugging him toward the group of adults who sat at the tables lined up end to end in the center of the room.

"Oh hey!" he exclaimed when a little girl who couldn't be more than four climbed him like a palm tree. The adults laughed as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He sat down in one of the folding chairs and held her on his lap.

"Kaukamea, what are you building in your lab? Filipe says you have a ghost and you talk to it. Does it help you build things?" she asked.

"Who told you that?"

The little girl pointed to a boy with bronze skin and wide, curious eyes. He looked up at Tony in fascination from the safety of his mother's arms.

"Filipe?" Tony asked with a raised eyebrow. The boy nodded dramatically.

"And what's your name?" Tony asked the girl.

"Sara," she said.

"Nice to meet you, Sara and Filipe. It just so happens that I am currently working on some upgrades to the arc reactor technology that runs the island. Have you seen the new bunker?"

All the children nodded in unison.

"So, if...and Filipe, I'm looking at you here… IF someone were sneaking around my lab, they may have heard me talking to Friday, who is not a ghost. She's more like a really, really smart computer who can talk."

"Is she smarter than you?" Sara asked, wide-eyed.

"Well...technically, yes. I built her. But I taught her to learn. She has access to all the information on the internet. So, she knows like...everything."

"Woooow," the children chorused.

"Right? She’s crazy smart.”

"Kaukamea, can we meet Friday?” Sara asked. "I have a computer at home. But it's never spoken to me before. Do you think if I brought it over, Friday could teach it how to talk?"

The children murmured their agreement, each of them wanting Friday to teach their computers to talk too. Tony noticed that the adults had stopped what they were doing to listen to the conversation.

Tong chuckled. "Unfortunately, your home computers aren't quite as smart as Friday. But if it's okay with your parents, you can come by the lab to meet Friday. But listen, it's super important that if you come to visit me that you don't go into the lab by yourself. You never know what I'm working on. And it could be dangerous. Do you all understand?"

The children agreed and ran off to play. The adults chuckled and resumed their conversations. Sara wiggled down from his lap and grabbed Filipe's hand.

"I told you there wasn't a ghost," she said.

"Well, it sounded like a ghost," he said.

"Sorry about that," one of the women said, taking a seat next to Tony. "The children are so curious about you. I'm Delana, Sara's mother." She held out her hand and Tony shook it with a smile. Delana was a little younger than Tony with caramel skin and sleek black hair she wore swept up in a ponytail.

"It's okay. I'm used to it. I just wanted to make sure they don't get hurt."

"Thank you for looking out for them. And for everything you've done for the island. When Mr. Umbari was forced to sell, we thought that everyone here would be forced off the island. But you swooped in and allowed us to keep our homes, brought reliable electricity and Wi-Fi, and helped us keep our jobs. You have truly been a blessing."

Tony nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat. "I'm glad I could do some good," he said.

Delana tilted her head; she studied him a moment before smiling and patting his hand. "Let me get you some stew," she said finally before getting up and heading to the kitchen where people had begun to get in line.

Tony tuned in to the conversations around him. The people spoke in a mix of English and Fijian. Friday helped by providing translation on the lenses of his glasses and he followed the conversations. Delana returned with a big bowl of stew and a plate piled with roti, a flatbread the islanders seemed to have at almost every meal.

The storm hit late in the evening with everyone gathered around a large pot-bellied stove as Mr. Umbari told stories to the nervous children. They invited Tony into one of the wooden rocking chairs by the fire. He'd refused several times because although he owned the island and everyone had been more than welcoming, Tony couldn't shake the sense that he was still an outsider, merely a means to an end for these people. But eventually, he accepted and as the wind howled outside and Friday fed him updates about the storm, Tony drifted off to sleep in the warmth of the fire.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List: Let me know if you’d like to be added/removed

@caseyhasissues @iroironfestivalgoopmaker @unicornpower5301

#starker #tony x peter #peter parker #tony stark #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic

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marvel-lous-things · 5 years

Text

Promises

AN: reposting because tungle.hell is a little bitch that messed up the read more link on this and doesn’t deserve rights.

Words:

Relationships: Family fluff, Pepperony, mentions of Peter’s crush on Harley

Prompt: “Every month everyone has a get together at the pepperony cabin and they have dinner together. Happy grills cheeseburgers for the kids (Morgan, Clint’s boys, Peter, Lila, Cassie, Harley) and they play outside until it gets dark, the older kids giving the younger ones piggy back rides and everyone eating juice pops. Steve is inside, bantering with Bucky and Sam, like the old times. Pepper wishes Tony would be here to see it all.”

—-

It was tradition, at this point, for everyone to meet up in Pepper’s old cabin (she had since moved to New York) on the first Sunday of each month.

It had begun with a miscommunication. Steve had texted Bruce that he’d be visiting Pepper to check on her and Morgan, on that fateful day a little over a year ago. Somehow, Bruce had interpreted that as “Gather the whole gang, we’re gonna collectively show up at Pepper’s cabin with 35 assorted presents.”

It was a little odd the first time round, what with Bruce apologizing profusely for goofing up, and the cabin being too small to hold everyone while also allowing them some personal space. But she’d decided she liked having them all around. Might as well do it again.

14 months and 14 barbecue meet ups later, everyone looked forward to driving out there for a nice evening of grilled food and banter. And the occasional explosion. To be fair, when you throw two brilliant, reckless, science-loving teenagers and an equally brilliant, reckless, science-loving little girl together, explosions can (and will) occur.

Which is why Happy was very loudly arguing with Harley over using his “new and improved” grill rather than the usual one from Happy’s garage, which was decidedly safer and less daunting to use. To top it off, the damn thing was shaped like a nuke.

Elsewhere, the younger kids were having their own argument, except theirs had a little less to do with barbecue grills.

“Morgan,” Pepper called out, noticing the commotion, “it’s Cooper’s turn now, sweetheart.”

“But mom-”

“Give it to him.”

“Just a minute!”

“Morgan.”

The 6 year old turned around, gave her mom the most heart-achingly adorable pout, and begrudgingly handed her brand new nerf gun to the older boy (a very well received gift from May). They’d been going at it all evening, shooting empty soda cans off rocks, tree branches, and at one point, Peter’s head.

Steve smiled, watching Barton’s kid shoot a can off Harley’s bike from 10 meters away. And then immediately panicking after realizing the can was actually full. And probably belonged to Harley.

“Kid’s good with a gun, Clint,” Steve noted.

“Scared he won’t take after his dad?”

The glare he received from the arrow enthusiast was borderline terrifying.

“We’ve just got killer aim, Rogers, it ain’t about the weapon. Hand me a gun, stand across the lake, and I’ll show you.”

Pepper laughed, throwing Clint a grape flavored juice pop (his favorite kind).

“Nobody’s murdering anybody in my house, alright?”

Just before Clint could catch his dessert, though, a web shot out from behind the couch and snatched the sugar infused stick of ice right out of mid air. The web then proceeded to disappear as quickly as it came.

“Well, actually, Pepper,” said a youthful voice, no doubt belonging to the pop thief,

“the murder would happen outside the house, so technically-”

“Peter Benjamin Parker, you give that back right now or you’re grounded for a month.”

Peter winced. Busted.

“He can get himself another one, May!” He tried (in vain).

“There’s a whole freezer full of em right outside-”

“Peter.”

May raised her eyebrow at him. Ah, there it was. The look of devastating disapproval. A look nobody could stand to receive, let alone Peter “I cried watching Big Hero 6″ Parker.

“Alright, alright.” He sighed, back flipping over the armrest; a completely extravagant and unnecessary move that was only carried out in case Harley was watching. Peter had been trying his absolute best to get Harley’s attention off late. He told May that it was because he wanted to prove that “he’s the alpha” (May thought her disaster of a son simply wanted to impress his crush. She was right).

20 lazy footsteps and an annoyed huff later, the juice pop was slid across the kitchen counter, right into Clint’s open hand.

When it was, regrettably, immediately snatched away by Lila.

Clint blinked. “Can’t catch a damn break, can I?”

Laura laughed, planting a reassuring kiss on her husband’s cheek. She’d learned over the past year that Clint had turned to vigilante justice to deal with his feelings of anger and helplessness. She couldn’t have him hunting down members of the Ukrainian mafia over popsicles.

“Calm down, drama queen, I’m sure there’s more in the ice box-”

“WHO TOOK ALL THE DAMN GRAPE JUICE POPS?” Captain America yelled from outside. A sound that was immediately followed by a very ungraceful pterodactyl-like screech, and Clint putting his head in his hands.

“…or maybe not.” She winced.

That was the exact moment Bucky took to walk down the stairs. a sticky purple mess gracing his face. He stopped abruptly when he noticed everyone’s eyes were on him, and just this once, he was sure it wasn’t because they were admiring his beauty.

His eyes darted around the room, making note of Clint’s deep resignation, Pepper’s terrible poker face, May’s grimace, and Steve nearly falling off his chair in sheer amusement.

He wasn’t fully sure how to proceed.

“Uh…”

He looked around the room again, hoping it would give him answers.

It didn’t.

“…what’s up?”

Steve actually did fall over at this point, prompting Peter to scream something about senior citizen needing help, followed by Cassie dialing 911 on Morgan’s old toy telephone. Neither of which helped him make sense of what was going on. Although, he had to admit, it was a little funny.

Bucky’s question, however, was answered when Sam entered the kitchen with the force of a very disgruntled wildebeest. He looked around wildly, until his eyes fell on Bucky and his incredibly purple grin.

“You,” Sam glowered.

“Me,” Bucky replied sweetly, slowly wiping the purple dye off his mouth with his sleeve. Which, of course, only served to drive Sam further up the wall.

“YOU DON’T EVEN LIKE GRAPE!”

“True, true.” Bucky shrugged.

“I do love pissing you off, though.”

What followed after was Sam chasing Bucky out into the woods, brandishing his shield and yelling something about how “this shield ain’t only for defending, I’ll star spangle whoop your ass you dick, come back here.”

Clint followed a minute later, on a quest to avenge his stolen popsicle

(This was after they were pointedly told by Pepper to take their battle outside, they’d lost enough vases over the year to the kids’ antics as it were).

Steve eventually found the strength to get back on his chair, and throw an apple in Harley’s general direction. Which was warranted, because the kid kept yelling “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” in this ridiculous (and frankly, offensive) “old man voice” while Steve did, in fact, struggle to get up.

He briefly wondered how pleased Tony would be to see Captain Perfect struggling with real, human issues, like achy joints and a sore back. Almost as if she’d read his mind, Pepper voiced his thoughts.

“Tony would’ve loved to see you dealing with elderly-man problems, you know.” She laughed. “The number of times he’d complain that ‘Steve goddamn Rogers’ doesn’t suffer from a single grey hair even at the age of 100, while he did even though he was only 50.”

She made air quotes around the “only.”

“Took a lot of convincing for him to let it grow out, you know, instead of hiding it behind dye after dye,” she rolled her eyes, “he looked at me like I’d told him to give Morgan up for adoption.”

Steve laughed softly. “A herculean effort, I’m sure.”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it.”

Pepper remembered that conversation clear as day, like it had happened just days ago. Partly because she’d never had to convince someone who was once labelled “Sexiest Man Alive” by Times magazine that he would still be attractive with grey hair, until that strange, strange day, and partly because the method of convincing she’d opted for was… unusual, a little unexpected. But not unwelcome, for sure

(He’d told her as much the next morning, wearing a stupidly lopsided grin, but no shirt)

Washing the dye off her fingers had been a pain in the ass though. She couldn’t believe he’d actually agreed to letting her color his hair grey. Morgan had shrieked seeing her daddy with “weird hair” (her words), which was not good for the case Pepper was making. But she had eventually warmed up to the new look. She even told Tony he looked nice, of her own accord. After which Pepper had walked in on Tony hugging his daughter and her struggling to get out of the death grip he had on her.

Pepper was snapped out of her reverie when Steve spoke up again.

“Who’s to say he isn’t seeing it, though?”

Pepper blinked. She wasn’t one to space out often, but when she did, she was disturbingly thorough.

“Sorry?”

“Tony, watching us,” Steve took a deep breath, “laughing at me struggling with weak hipbones, watching over you, Morgan, Peter…” He looked down at his mug of coffee, that had long since gone empty

“You never know.”

Pepper couldn’t quite place the look on his face just then. Somewhere between sad and hopeful, she supposed.

“You never know,” she repeated under her breath, more to herself than to him.

Steve heard it anyway, and smiled softly at her, before turning to look at the picture Pepper had framed on the living room wall. A picture of her, Tony, and Morgan, taken at the beach. Morgan was on his shoulders, maybe 3, 4 years old then. His right arm was wrapped around Pepper’s shoulder, her left arm around his waist. All three wore contented smiles, Tony’s and Morgan’s achingly similar.

No Iron Man, no arc reactor, no intense, murderous stare, like the hundreds of pictures that had graced every magazine in existence, for a month after his death.

Just plain, good old Tony Stark. The part of him he kept hidden from the world, reserved only for the people he loved.

It was the only picture that did him justice, Steve thought.

“I wish he could see you now, Pepper,” he turned back to her, half his mouth upturned in a small smile, “see how well his two favorite girls are doing.”

Pepper chuckled, gently placing her hand on Steve’s.

“Oh, he knows,” she nodded, twirling the ring that still adorned her finger.

“I promised him we’d be fine.”

xxxxx

my adhd ass jumping from prompt to prompt: parkour

anyway, thanks for reading

#i hate this website #endgame spoilers #marvel #endgame #avengers endgame #tony stark #pepper potts #pepperony #steve rogers #peter parker #morgan stark #bucky barnes #sam wilson #marvel fanfcition #mcu #sam attempts writing

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wlwinry · 4 years

Text

that summer breeze (the way it’s calling me): ii

eyyyyyyyyy finally updated this

prologue

chapter one

summary:

The legendary thief known as Mech finds a tower. The boy in the tower finds a way out.

--------------------------------------------

All things considered, Mech thought today had gone pretty well. She’d just committed the crime of the century by stealing the Crown of the Sun (hello, eternal infamy), successfully ditched and double-crossed two of the most dangerous criminals in the world (no brownie points earned with the criminal underground of Xerxes and Amestris there, she supposed, but it did mean the score was all hers), and escaped the Royal Guard despite a very harrowing chase. Sure, she’d pissed off the Captain of the Royal Guard and had to deal with him shapeshifting into a giant, angry wolf the size of a horse, but one short fall off a cliff and a quick duck into a mysterious cave covered in ivy, and that problem was thankfully solved.

Temporarily solved, at least. Mustang was still after her (since when could the asshole shapeshift, anyway? Especially into one of the best tracking animals in the world? She would be screwed if she stayed in one place too long), and if she got caught it was bye-bye pretty priceless artifact, hello gallows and a public square. Luckily, she’d found that the cave was more like a tunnel, a stretch of dirt and stone going only a few feet before springy grass started popping up and sunlight once again dappled the forest floor.

Prime real estate awaited her, really—a beautiful valley, a waterfall pouring down from high, shining cliffs as a brook wound through the clearing. In the middle of it all, strangely enough, there was a tower. Narrow and tall (at least seventy feet, if not over a hundred, like it had been separated from a palace and dropped down here), made of shimmering stones and covered in crawling moss and ivy. Pretty. Possibly full of treasures. And, most importantly, no stairs, ladders, or anything a giant wolf-slash-human-guard would be able to climb up.

It only took half an hour to climb, with a little boost from her magic and using the arrows of her quiver to nudge some stones out enough to use as footholds, grasping iron-infused arrow shafts and hauling herself up step by step. The one window she’d seen near the top was, thankfully, unlocked, and she’d slipped inside, pausing for a moment on the sill to check her satchel. The crown was still in there, thankfully, shining gold and jet-black stones and diamonds—a pretty, delicate circlet meant only for the Crown Prince of Xerxes. One the current heir would never have received, and never asked for, because it belonged to his brother.

The Lost Prince. Sometimes, she wondered what had happened to him, to that little baby with those bright golden eyes she saw in those tapestries, those mosaics. Dead, probably, said the most practical part of her, but sometimes—well, sometimes she hoped. Sometimes (right now, not that she’d admit it), she felt bad for stealing from his kingdom…and his crown.

Most times, she knew just how stupid hope was, and that sympathy was even worse. Especially for a wanted criminal.

Especially for the legendary Mechanic.

She swung her legs over the sill and closed the shutters behind her with a sigh, closing the satchel with a smirk. “Alone at last,” she crooned—

Then something slammed into the back of her head, and Mech’s world went dark.

***

Ed hadn’t been having the best birthday—or day-before-his-birthday. Sure, things started off well. He’d managed to hide his Cress from his father, the Barn Owl finally flying off before he hauled him back up into the tower, got all his chores done quickly and busied himself with whatever pastimes were approved. Painting, fortunately, was still top of the list, and though he was running out of space, he’d moved the mantle-piece over the fireplace enough that he could paint the empty wall.

Inky skies, shining, floating lights, and a boy watching them with glowing golden hair. His birthday present, one he’d been looking forward to since he was old enough to have memories, let alone dreams. Or—well, he’d hoped it’d be his birthday present. He was turning eighteen, which was the age of adulthood for almost every nation according to the stories he’d found in the books Father gave him. Surely he was mature enough for a short picnic in the forest, where he could see the floating lights better, right?

Not right. Father didn’t like that he’d asked at all, even though it was his birthday and Ed felt really small and cramped (weakstarvedscaredneedlightlightlight) within the walls of his tower. He’d humored it at first, after Ed used his hair to soothe him after the wilds of the outside (he’d messed up the song by going too fast, though, and maybe that was why Father got mad), but then—well, then he’d reminded Ed about his lost leg, about the raiders who’d loved nothing more than to chop off his hair and sell him.

Reminded him that he was young, and immature, and useless. That he had a history of rambling and getting overexcited and forgetting about his surroundings to the point that he got hurt, or that people around him got hurt protecting him. That he was safer in here, and too weak to handle himself out there.

And then he’d left to get ingredients for dinner—and Ed hadn’t been able to do anything but sit on the mantle and stare at the painting he’d hoped would come true. The reality that would be nothing but a dream.

Cress had flown back in from her little nest after Father left, crooning and comforting him with gentle, fluffy wings, preening gently at his scalp. He’d managed a smile as he lowered himself to the ground carefully, setting his foot down first before putting his crutch down—and freezing as the window shutters swung open again and someone walked in. Someone who wasn’t Father. Someone who was tall, with a lithe build and narrow shoulders and thick blonde hair in a high ponytail, with cutting blue eyes and full lips and who was a girl and who definitely wasn’t Father—

Before he could think twice, he cracked his crutch over her head and scooted away with a shriek as the—person. The real, live person—toppled over soundlessly. He leveled the crutch at her with trembling hands as Cress hooted in alarm, flapping her wings wildly. Oh god. Oh my god. It’s a person, it’s a human, it’s gonna cut off my hair it has razor sharp teeth and probably claws and—and it’s a girl, I’ve never seen a girl before but that’s what they look like in illustrations, right? ��Oh, gods—oh gods oh gods oh gods, Father’s going to kill me, Cress!”

The owl landed on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze with her talons, careful as always not to pierce the skin. He leaned against the wall and tried to breath, before hopping closer, unwilling to put down the crutch—and toppled over with a squeal as his hair snagged painfully on something. He sat up quickly, back stinging and eyes watering as he tugged it off of the whorl in the rafters it was knotted around—ow, ow, OW—and hauled himself upright, scooting over to the kitchen. He snatched the first heavy, vaguely weapon-ish item he could find as he wedged his crutch back under his arm, pointing the object (a frying pan) at the girl as he inched closer.

“What am I supposed to do?” he whispered, prodding at her. She didn’t move, evidently well and truly unconscious, and some of that terror faded. He glanced at Cress, who rotated her head and blinked big black eyes at him, before hooting again and opening her beak in a snarling face.

Right. Other people had razor-sharp teeth that they used to poison people and tear out their throats. He should probably figure out something to do with those, first.

Hesitantly, he reached out with the handle of the pan, pulling her lip up—and frowned. Her teeth were flat, normal. Like…mine?

He glanced around before frowning and grabbing the bag the girl had dropped when he hit her, Cress flapping up to the top of the mirror his father loved so much and perching on it. Ed perched on a stool, furrowing his brow before hopping awkwardly over to the mirror and withdrawing the contents. Something pretty, and metal, with what looked like diamonds and jewels and obsidian set in it. He ran a finger admiringly over the rose-gold, before slipping a hand through it and holding it out. It was too big, but, well, he had no idea what it was. “Like this, maybe?”

Cress flipped her head upside down, before squinting at him. He huffed (tough crowd, huh?), before holding it up to one eye and peering through one of the clear gemstones. If anything, it just made the world look weirder, and he sighed before holding it out again. Alright, well…maybe it’s a hat? Hesitantly, he lifted it up and set it on his head, and—

Oh. Oh. It was a hat, then. A very pretty, fancy hat. “Huh,” he said after a moment, tipping it into his hands before looking up at Cress and stuffing the satchel quickly into a pot by the staircase—and grinning. “See? Look at that!” He gestured at the slumped body of the girl, even as he eyed the blue-painted wardrobe carefully. “I can totally take care of myself! As soon as I show Father this, he’ll have to take me to see the floating lights, right?”

Cress made a worried, warbling sound, but Ed ignored it, hope bursting bright in his chest as he began the task of stuffing the first person who’d ever found his tower into the closet.

I’m going to see those lights after all.

#tangled au #edwin #fma #mads writes #ed is a disney princess #read and rb #ed is also a lil dumbass who is emotionally abused so yknow #winry is mech(anic) geddit haha

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tcfkag · 5 years

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Spoonie Life: My Last Week (fun with complications)

So, I’m having a really rough week. It feels like literally the second I get a break from one thing or a handle on another, then another thing pops up. I never get a break and it is exhausting. And sometimes it just makes you feel so alone because even those that support you - and I have a hugely supportive community of people in my life - just can’t understand. I’ve been feeling increasingly depressed and anxious and alone and my therapist does not have any availability to see me...possibly for months. So I wanted to just write up everything I’m going through because sometimes that helps but also because hopefully some of you may have gone through some similar things (esp. blood clots and ovarian cysts) and could give advice and/or just support.

Here’s a (not so) short summary of shit that’s been going on lately (in list form because why not). Don’t feel like you have to read it all. I know everyone has their own things going on. But I just needed somewhere to vent and while I shared some of this on FB, I also feel freer to be honest and just fully disclose how hard this is for me here. Sometimes that’s one good thing about this hell site - less reason to self-censor and try to sound positive/hopeful/happy when I really truly am not.

Last Monday (the 15th), I finally finished three months of IV antibiotics I was on for an intra-abdominal abscess (an infected collection of fluid that was right underneath my diaphragm which meant that, for a while, it hurt to even take a breath).

Good news right? Stopped it about a week ago which is awesome because the antibiotics were infused two hours x three times a day (i.e. six f*cking hours a day that I was connected to an IV bag).

But, I knew I would need a follow-up CT scan that was scheduled for this past Wednesday....and who knew what that would show.

Towards the end of last week, I started feeling very tired all the time. And then my physical stamina just suddenly....decompensated abruptly. I would get tired doing anything. Monotasker and I went to the grocery store and halfway through, I had to sit down (or risk passing out). After a few minutes, I told him “we need to get out of here” so we rushed through the rest of the basics we needed. And then while he checked out, I sat on a bench near-by. My heart was racing, I was out of breath, I was dizzy and light-headed, and just generally felt like I had run a 5K.

The first couple times this happened I thought “well, maybe I’m out of shape, I *haven’t* been working out at ALL lately. But then I remembered, it was what - a week ago that I attended NYCC where sure, I got tired sometimes and had to sit down once in a while, but it was nothing like this. And I knew that fitness doesn’t decompensate like that....it’s sad that when confronted with such a serious health issue that my first reaction was to just....blame myself. Right away.

So last Sunday (a little over a week ago), I went into the ER to get checked out. I hoped it was something SIMPLE, like dehydration or maybe my anemia had gotten worse or low levels of some kind of electrolyte imbalance. Anything that could be handled in a single evening. Three guesses about whether that was really the problem (though if you’ve followed me for more than a hot minute, I’m sure you know that the right answer is...because of course, NOTHING is ever simple).

At the ER, they decided to do the CT scan I was supposed to have that Wednesday just to make sure there wasn’t anything they were missing. And while the abscess they had been treating was largely unchanged (so they are going to stop the antibiotics), they also found that I had a blood clot in my pelvis. This is my third blood clot but the other two (a DVT in 2008 and a PE in 2015) were both post-surgical. This is my first blood clot that happened “spontaneously”. The admitted me to the hospital for about 48 hours and put me on a heparin drip until they could get a blood thinner arranged to release me and send me home.

A few observations and factoids about blood clots and their treatment for those who are interested.

People with Crohn’s Disease and Ulcerative Colitis (i.e. IBD) are more prone to blood clots. If you have IBD (or any autoimmune disease actually), you should be aware of this risk and know the signs of blood clots (esp. after surgery) and make sure to take preventative measures like standing up to walk around on long flights.

Traditionally, blood clots were treated with the blood thinner warfarin (Coumadin is its brand name). It takes a few days to get to the correct level in your blood, so you have to be on injections of another blood thinner Lovenox (twice a day, at home, injected yourself) until your “INR” reaches the right level in your blood. While on warfarin you have to have regular bloodwork to check your INR - every few days at first, then weekly, and if you’re on it long term the tests become less common.

This is very challenging for me - after ALL the health issues I’ve had, my veins are completely shot. Even basic blood work is a challenge.

There is a newer genre of blood thinners out there called DACOs - you’ve probably heard of them (they include Xarelto and Elliquis) which are better for a couple reasons, I guess, but the main one for me is the lack of required blood thinners. Three guesses on whether my health insurance approved them? NOPE. They sent me into pre-authorization hell (which frequently means “nope never going to happen” but in this case I hope means “well if your doctor pushes hard enough, we’ll give in eventually).

Question: has anyone gotten one of the DACOs approved? Is there anything specific that you had to prove? How did it end up working out?

If you are someone who menstruates, just be aware - going on a blood thinner can cause your period to start early (mine started less than two days after starting them - at least a week or two early) AND it will make your period longer and heavier.

P.S. - the GYN I saw yesterday said that Xarelto would make that even worse which leads into a later part of this post, but basically she said it was really important that I get my IUD replaced if I was going to be on Xarelto long term.

Since this is my third blood clot, it may mean that I will have to be on blood thinners permanently, which I’m not looking forward to AT ALL. Because really, do I need another medical complication? The answer is no. No, I do not. WHICH MAKES THE NEXT PART OF THIS POST IRONIC.

So this is the part of the post that I could actually use some advice on.

So for a while, maybe as long as a year, every CT or MRI I’ve had has included a note from the radiologist saying that a benign ovarian cyst was seen on the scan (or sometimes it was called an “inclusive cyst” from the ovary into the peritoneal area. It would sometimes “recommend follow up with a GYN”. Okay....fair enough.

When I asked my GI and my PCP about it a long while ago (maybe even two years ago), they both sort of just said “sure you should see an OB-GYN about that at some point” but really didn’t follow-up on it. And then time passed because I had a LOT of other health issues that took precedence.

Sometime nine-months to a year ago, I started having pain in the area where my rectum used to be, especially when I was sitting at my desk at work. There were days it was so bad that I could not sit directly on my butt at all and had to constantly find different positions. And on those days, I would frequently also have pretty severe pain in my pelvis. For months I basically ignored it...again, I have chronic pain and I had bigger fish to fry. Again, it got put on the back burner. Until one day it was so painful I was crying at work. So I called my PCP who also called my GI and he looked at my scan and said “it’s probably that cyst, you should see a GYN....” Still no urgency (and my PCP even said “I don’t know i it’s that - sometimes doctors like to blame cysts when they just don’t know what else is wrong.”) Again and again, this cyst was acknowledged but treated as no big deal - a nuisance to be dealt with eventually.

Side note: at no point in this did my PCP or my GI bother to ask me about pain with sex, despite that being a somewhat obvious question.

So nine months ago (or so), my PCP finally did get me a referral to see someone in the minimally invasive surgical OB-GYN office. I called to make that appointment and was told “you cannot see a surgeon until you’ve seen one of the GYNs” so I got an appointment for several months later with a GYN in the office.

Then, I had to cancel two different appointments with her because I kept being sick and/or in the hospital...and of course, each new appointment was two-three months later.

So my appointment with the GYN (who was lovely) was yesterday. She told me that my cyst (which is in both the ovary and the peritoneum) is now the size of a GRAPEFRUIT! It is almost certainly to blame for the pain I get sometimes in my (former) rectal area and the pain I have when I have sex. She said that even if it’s “benign”, if it’s symptomatic like this, I shouldn’t have to live that way. For the first time, I had a doctor who I felt like was taking this issue seriously even though it wasn’t related to my IBD and was “just” a lady issue. (Though to be fair to my PCP, she has taken it seriously in the past, but it’s just not her specialty).

This GYN also said she’d be willing to take me to the procedure room and sedate me to put an IUD in, whether I have surgery or not because I had such a bad experience getting it last time!!! I really loved that she took my concerns about that seriously. Bless her.

So the (very extended) upshot is that I made an appointment with the minimally invasive surgeon who I was supposed to see SIX-NINE months ago (who, amazingly enough, had an appointment available MONDAY) and I may need to have another surgery to take care of this cyst. This cyst that wasn’t always the size of a grapefruit....but years of being told that it was benign, to “check it out” eventually, and having all of my other health needs take precedence has now left me here. With a huge cyst that has ruined my sex life and is starting to seriously impact my everyday life too.

TL;DR? I have TERRIBLE LUCK. ESPECIALLY this week. And I’m just feeling absolutely overwhelmed, lonely, and frustrated. And if you’ve had experience having surgery for an ovarian cyst, especially one that’s “including” on something outside the ovary, I’d really appreciate your thoughts on the procedure and whether it helped and was worth it.

#long post #about me #spoonie life #Crohn's Disease #ovarian cysts #a lot of this was just me needing to write this all out so that I could get it in one succinct rant #i'm having a lot of trouble dealing with these feelings of just.....never ending-ness #how do i do this for another 35 years????#when do i get a break #i need to go back to therapy - i know - but my therapist doesn't have any openings for A WHILE #and starting with a new therapist just seems like a lot #i may start doing the reasons i'm proud of myself posts again #bc i'm also starting to feel bad about my lazy ass self again #to boot

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foxcantswim · 5 years

Text

Infinity Reactor 3000

@sammythedragon1 @averagemarvelbitch @nineandthreequarters9 @magitech27 @do-i-draw-or-write-this @stark-eftychia

Post Endgame (Minor Spoilers)

Infinity Reactor 3000

Stephen has created a new Arc Reactor for Tony and now the mechanic has to come to terms with the feelings he possesses for the sorcerer. Friday definitely has something to say about it.

IronStrange - Tony Stark x Stephen Strange Characters: Tony, Stephen, Friday, Dummy, Goose + Carol (mentioned)

Fluff

-x-

"Mr. Stark?"

"What's up, Friday?" Tony asked in frustration, looking around his lab at the scattered metal parts. His progress of a new Iron Man suit had been slow due to his right arm being in a cast. He kicked a part away from him in annoyance.

"I seem to be having issues with my coding, sir."

"Oh? What's the problem?" he asked, sitting down in his chair, slight worry laced his voice. He pulled up a file in the air, "I've run a quick diagnostics and I'm not really seeing the error here."

"I've been experiencing something, sir."

"And what is this something?" he asked as got rid of the file, "Don't keep me on edge!"

"Disgust."

"That is... Not what I was expecting you to say." he paused, "What er... What are you disgusted at, Fri?" he wondered as messed around with some wiring with his fingers.

"You may not like my answer."

"I won't be mad. You can say it's my face because lets be honest... It has seen better days."

"No, boss. It's not your face. You are looking as handsome as ever."

Tony chuckled, "Aw, Friday. You flatter me." he smiled, "Okay, seriously... What is it? I promise I won't replace you with a new AI."

"You are terrible at keeping promises, sir... It involves Doctor Strange."

"Strange?" Tony questioned, "Why are you disgusted with Stephen?"

"I'm not disgusted with Stephen as a person, sir."

He groaned, leaning back in his chair, "I'm getting old, Friday! You're losing me!"

"I'm disgusted with how you act around him." she finally answered.

A spark flew from the wiring after Tony gripped it just a bit too tight, he flinched and let it fall back into the shell of a helmet.

"You should be careful with that, sir."

A familiar meow of amusement echoed throughout the lab.

"Don't you start." Tony warned as he turned around in his chair to face Goose. She was sitting in the doorway, "Or I'll leave you stranded in space."

Goose suddenly roared, tentacles flew out of her mouth in an attempt to threaten Tony.

Once Goose was back to 'normal', Tony's face still possessed a blank expression. He rolled his eyes before turning back around to face the helmet on the table once again. His eyes suddenly looked down at himself, slowly trailing to the new arc reactor that was within his chest.

Strange had helped him create it. It was infused with a fragment from the Time Stone. It was the only thing that was keeping him alive after the snap.

Tony had always been fond with Stephen. He always managed to match his sarcasm, whit, humour. Everything. He had never been happier to see the wizard appear after they managed to get everybody back. He knew he felt something... But he was blind to see it himself.

All the pieces connected once Stephen had saved him. The sorcerer was immediately by his side after he snapped his fingers, getting rid of the purple grape for good. Being the Sorcerer Supreme definitely helped in saving his life. And when Strange had taken Tony to the Sanctum, showing him plans of an Arc Reactor infused with a piece of the Time Stone... Tony knew exactly what his feelings were.

It had taken a few weeks to create the 'Infinity Reactor' as Tony had called it. Stephen called it the 'Arc of Agamotto'. They couldn't really come to a decision. (The Ancient One wasn't too fond with the idea of Stephen using the Time Stone to keep Tony alive. But once she knew about Tony being the one to end Thanos' reign, she couldn't say no to Stephen.)

Afterall. There were only two outcomes where Thanos was defeated. One where Tony died a horrible death, sitting on the battlefield. And another where Tony lived, with the power of the Time Stone flowing throughout him.

Stephen had kept Tony in his astral body for the majority of the time during the building process, only allowing him back into his physical body whenever he needed help with a wire or two. He didn't want to risk Tony dying to the post-snap effects.

It took around a month before Tony was able to talk coherently again. And It took around five months for him to be able to walk properly again without help, Stephen thought it would take longer. But he was amazed at Tony's strength to get through everything.

A smile formed on the mechanic's face as he saw the light on his chest glow bright blue. There was an occasional green light swirling throughout. Everytime he saw that green, it always reminded him of Stephen.

"Boss." Friday spoke, breaking Tony away from his thoughts, "It appears that Goose has thrown up again."

"Are you kidding me?!" Tony exclaimed, standing and turning around to face the Flerken, "Goose! What did I tell you about doing that in the lab?!"

Somehow, Goose portrayed pure sass and smugness.

"Stephen was right. You are a pain."

Goose purred, clearly pleased with herself.

Tony sighed, clicking his fingers, "Dummy!" he called and pointed at the mess, "Clean that up."

"Please." Friday added.

He sat back down harshly, he was frustrated in so many different ways. He winced slightly as a jolt of pain rushed through his arm.

"Sir. I have detected an anomaly within your recovery. I have contacted Doctor Strange."

"That was unnecessary, Friday. Call him and tell him I'm fi-"

He was cut off by the familiar orange glow and faint sound of a portal. A slight gust of wind pushed some papers to the ground as the portal finally opened.

"Anthony Edward Stark, If you are overworking yourself again... I swear I'm going to keep you in your Astral form."

Tony never got tired of that voice.

As Stephen stepped through the portal, Tony portrayed fake offence, "How dare you. I'm ill. I don't need abuse from you."

The portal closed as Stephen approached, his eyes landed on Goose. He saw her sitting down next to a pile of... Something... Dummy slowly rolled over and 'extinguished' the mess. Tony had a look of utter disappointment across his face.

"Goose." Stephen nodded with a look of confusion. He shook his head and made his way over to Tony, "Now. Lets have a look at you."

"Stephen, I'm fine." Tony tried to assure as Stephen's hand came to his 'Infinity Reactor'. Stephen gave it an experimental tap and saw the power of the Time Stone flow throughout it.

"Friday tells me otherwise." he paused, "Your reactor could do with an upgrade or two. Just something a bit more stronger to contain the power of the stone. Shouldn't be a problem." he leaned in closer as his eyes then looked at his arm, "The nanites seem to be doing fine. Perhaps they are working a bit too slow but that shouldn't matter. I will go through a few tests once I'm back at the Sanctum."

"Stephen." Tony grabbed the sorcerer's wrist as he reached for his damaged arm, "I'm. Fine. You know I would let you know if I wasn't feeling good."

"We both know that's a lie." Stephen smiled. His eyes scanned the man's face, "At least that's healing." the sorcerer nodded to his right cheek, "Looks a lot better than it did last week. It will clear up within in a month."

A look of shock immediately appeared on Tony's face, "I'll have you know that Friday thinks I'm looking as handsome as ever, so your comment is inval-." Stephen cut him off by shaking his hand out of Tony's grip and placed it on his cheek, "I-Invalid." Tony muttered before clearing his throat.

Stephen smiled at the sight of Tony's reddening face, "Yes. That is definitely healing at an acceptable rate." he stepped back, his hand fell in the process, "The anomaly that Friday detected must've been caused by your stress levels. I can see that you are overworking yourself, Tony..." Tony was about to speak but Stephen quick cut in, "I know you want to finish you suit. But you need to take your time. You need more rest." he spoke softly.

Tony saw it. The look in Stephen's eyes.

At that moment, he had slight hope that maybe. Just maybe Stephen had some sort of feelings for him.

Tony slowly stood from his seat and moved so he stood directly in front of Stephen.

Stephen raised an eyebrow, "You're a lot shorter than I remember. Mr Tiny Stark."

"Shut up, Strange." he said before his hand came to the back of the sorcerer's neck, pulling him down into a short but sweet kiss. Tony was shocked as Stephen almost instantly reciprocated, his hands were quickly on the mechanic's waist. A sigh of relief escaped Tony as they pulled away.

Stephen smiled down at him.

"Disgust." Friday.

Tony shook his head with a chuckle, ignoring Friday, "Okay, Doctor. I want to strike a deal with you."

Stephen's smile faded in confusion, "A deal? For what?"

"I promise to take it easy and sleep more..."

"If?"

"If you kiss me again, wizard."

The wizard rolled his eyes as his smile reappeared before leaning down to peck the man on lips once again, "I hate you, Stark."

"And I love you times 3000, Strange." Tony hadn't meant to say that. It just felt right after they had literally be dancing around each for months and months.

"Tony, I-" Stephen flinched as Goose jumped up onto the table next to them, this caused both of them to look towards the Flerken.

Tony groaned as he stepped away, causing the taller man's hands to fall from his waist. Tony slightly heaved, "Oh, God... The smell coming from that cat. I don't think I've ever smelt anything worse."

The sorcerer chuckled as he stepped away from the table, too, "Flerken. Not a cat."

"She's a cat."

"Well that cat has demonic tentacles that come out of its mouth. Yeah. Definitely not a Flerken."

Tony sighed, "Danvers needs to pick this cat up now."

"One: It's a Flerken. Two: It's only been two days since she left Goose here. It's your fault for agreeing to look after her for a week."

Stepping over the mess on the floor, Tony pointed at Dummy, "You are a disgrace to Stark Industries."

Stephen shook his head, "Don't insult Dummy. Or I won't kiss you again."

"Oh, Stephie. My dear wizard. You couldn't resist me." he said, making his way out the door of the lab, "It's still a cat by the way!" he shouted over his shoulder.

"Flerken!"

"Cat!"

"Flerken." Friday added.

"Caaaaat!~"

The smile on Stephen's face grew as he followed Tony.

As Stephen caught up with Tony he muttered, "It's still a Flerken."

Tony looked at him with a smirk, "If you don't shut up I will slap you."

"Yeah. Go for it with your broken arm."

Stephen would have to tell him later that he too loved him times 3000.

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