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ibarap · 4 months

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[Event] A Match on the Sugoroku Board / The Die is Cast 1

Madara: Mikeneko-chan?

Rinne: Yaawn, fuu... Aah~, I'm sleepy...

I'm real happy Beehive took off. Never woulda thought I'd actually stay hyped up 'til mornin', but that ended up bein' a nice change-a pace for me too.

Now, my head's poundin' after stayin' out the whole night, so time for me to head on home and sleep.

Madara: Good moooooooorning!

Rinne: Shut up...?!

The hell? Are ya goin' home after a night out? Don'tcha know the cops arrest bad kids like you?

Madara: Hahaha, my bad. I just happened to see a familiar face is all.

I was pretty riled up by what you pulled during SS, so I wanted to get back at you for that! [1]

Rinne: Oi, oi. Don't tell me ya took it seriously, Mikeneko-chan. [2]

That was all staged. Don'tcha know I can't stand ya yellin' at me everywhere I go?

Madara: Mikeneko-chan?

Rinne: I'm free to give ya whatever nickname I want, can't I? It's cuter than gettin' called a 'dangerous bee that's out here stingin' humans'. ♪

Anyways, why're ya here? I ain't a fan idols wanderin' 'round entertainment districts.

Madara: Sorry, but it's not 'cause I was out having fun last night.

MaM tends to get snubbed in comparison to Double Face, but I've been getting more and more on that front lately.

Now that I'm on a roll, I've been hanging around the area looking for any work opportunities.

Since this is downtown, it looks like there's also a lot of workers returning home in the morning just like you are.

Rinne: I gotcha. I was wonderin' if you were hyped up 'cause ya stayed out all night.

But gettin' fucked over in the idol industry, huh... That rings a bell.

Ain't society harsh on outsiders in all kindsa ways? Rinne-kun's tired of y'all...! [3]

Madara: Even Crazy:B gets snubbed, huh. Kohaku-san told me all about it.

You cause trouble whenever you guys have work, so the only jobs Crazy:B do get are the weird ones anyone else would've turned down.

Rinne: Yeah, yeah, and I'm real sick of it. Even if I surround myself with nothin' but good kids, it straight up ain't fun~.

That's why I've also got yer back, Mikeneko-chan.

Alright, lemme treat ya to some gyudon since I'm the onii~san here!

There's nothin' better than eatin' gyudon after stayin' up all night. That's my goodbye gift to ya, so c'mon, let's eat!

Madara: Gyudon? No thanks, I'm not really hungry.

Rinne: Huuuh, ya don't wanna eat the gyudon I'm treatin' ya?

You're so cold~. Are ya turnin' down a senpai who wants to go somewhere with ya?

But I wanted to go eat with Mikeneko-chan~.

Madara: Okay, okay. I'll go with you if you insist.

We make an unlikely pair! It must've been some kind of fate that I ran into you here, don't you think?

<30 minutes later.>

Rinne: I'm stuffed. ♪

Damn, ya boy got a good dose of nutrients and the poundin' in my head even went away! Thanks, man!

Madara: Don't thank me, it was your treat.

Well, I should get going. I was kind of in the middle of my walk, you see.

I'll be looking around for some interesting jobs.

...Ohh?

Rinne: The hell's up with that? Why'd our phones sound off at the same time?

Madara: Rinne-san, it's a Sparkling Message. Apparantly, we got a new job offer. [4]

Rinne: "A Match on the Sugoroku Board — A competition between agencies, with idols from CosPro and NewDi joinin' in," huh?

"Fight by usin' dice in an Open-world Sugoroku game..." I dunno what that means, but that's pretty much why we're fightin' agency by agency.

I was plannin' on hittin' it off with ya, but it ain't gonna be that easy, huh.

Y'know what they say, "Yesterday's enemy could still be an enemy today." ♪ [5]

Madara: Hahaha, what a perfect way for things to end between us.

Considering the final round of SS, it's like my enemy from two days ago is my enemy once again.

Either way, this is the job we were waiting for.

I can't even say I'm disappointed that my search led me to someplace surprising, so I'm going to reply positively.

Rinne: Aah, 'course I'm gonna join in on the fun too. Not like I've got a ton of work headin' my way.

Well, it's about time for me to head home. Next time I see ya, all I ask is for ya to go easy on me. ♪

Madara: Sure thing, I'm looking forward to it. Let's have a fair and square fight.

Rinne: Gyahaha! ♪ Of course you'd be the type-a guy to say that!

Well now, I'm lookin' forward to it in more ways than one. ♪

Notes:

Reference to the !! main story SS Finals. Rinne interrupted Ryuseitai (red) and Double Face's (white)'s decisive round to call out the SS' voting system for being rigged and pinning the blame on Nagisa specifically.

Mikeneko-chan (calico cat): A play on Madara's cat-themed family name, Mikejima.

異物 (foreign contaminant): Translated this as 'outsider' for brevity. I figured this was worth noting due to Crazy:B being being branded as a 'poison to the idol industry' & etc. before.

Sparkling Message: I have no idea what キラキラメール (kirakira mail) is called in the wider fandom. If any of you know what it is, please let me know!

Yesterday's enemy could still be an enemy today: A spoof on the saying 昨日の敵は今日の敵, "Yesterday's enemy could be a friend today."

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#◎ translation #notice: unproofed #era: !!#type: event #rinne amagi #madara mikejima

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hailhydra920 · 3 years

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Anger Issues

Pairing: College! Baseball Player!Bucky x reader

Summary: You’re the only one who can calm Bucky down.

Warnings: Mentions of blood and injuries, but nothing major.

A/N: Inspired by this story x by @brown-bi-beautiful You should go read it if you haven’t already, read the warnings though. Anyway, happy reading.

Bucky threw his mitt in the dirt in a fury, before grabbing John Walker by the collar of his jersey. John had a smirk on his lips as Bucky shouted in his face, obviously glad he could rile Bucky up. Not long after, John and Bucky were rolling around in the dirt, a small dust cloud beginning to form in the baseball field. Punches were being thrown left and right, and Bucky didn’t seem to be stopping any time soon.

“Go get Y/n.” Steve whispered to Sam before he nodded and ran off.

Sam found you studying in the library with Natasha and Wanda, and one look at Sam told you it had something to do with Bucky. You and the girls followed Sam to the baseball field. Bucky was completely pummeling John Walker, and you had to stop him.

“Bucky! Stop!”

Hearing your voice, Bucky lifted his head to look at you. His hair was a mess, strands of hair frayed and sticking in all directions and dirt was caked all over his body. He was sporting a busted lip, a gash on his forehead, and it looked like he was going to have a black eye. You walked closer and grimaced when you saw what Walker looked like. You softly put your hand on his bicep and told him to calm down. While you were distracting Bucky, Walker tried to crawl away from Bucky. Seeing Walker trying to get away, Bucky moved to go after him.

“Bucky. No.” You said putting both hands on his chest to stop him from moving. You knew Bucky wouldn’t hurt you. “You’ve hurt him enough, don’t you think?”

He tried not to look you in the eye, his breathing still erratic from the fight. His chest was heaving up and down and a glare was soon set on Walker, who was fixing his jersey, blood dripping from his nose.

“You guys take care of Walker. I’ve got Bucky.” You said as the others took Walker away.

When you looked back at Bucky, you noticed his glare was now centered at the ground, and he was hiding his hands behind his back. You sighed when you looked at his face, it would look pretty bad tomorrow.

“Lemme see your hands, Buck.” You said quietly.

He hesitated for a few moments before slowly bringing his hands from behind his back. They were busted and bloody and you knew he was hurting, even if he was masking the pain well. You gave him a quick kiss before looking up at him.

“Let’s go get you cleaned up and we’ll talk.” You said as he nodded and followed behind you like a kicked puppy.

You guys grabbed your stuff before walking back outside. He followed you to his car and he stopped for a second. “Where are we going, doll?”

“I’m pretty sure practice is over for today, and I can be done studying today. I’m taking you home, so give me the keys.”

He reluctantly handed them over to you and you got into the car. The ride was silent other than Bucky’s heavy breaths. Once inside, you tossed the keys onto the counter and told Bucky to go into the bathroom. You pulled out the first aid kit and joined Bucky in the bathroom. He was sitting on the counter, his blue eyes settled on his hands.

“What were you thinking Bucky? This is the 5th fight this month, you’re lucky I’m close with the principle, or you would be out of college by now. I don’t like seeing you like this. You better get your act together, or I’ll pummel you myself.” You said as you got out the supplies you needed to clean Bucky’s wounds.

That earned a soft laugh from Bucky, and you turned serious again. “But seriously, Buck, you could end up in jail, and I don’t know if I could handle—”

Bucky put his hand on top of yours and lightly squeezed it. “I’ll do better. Promise, doll.”

“You better mean that.” You said as you poured some rubbing alcohol on a cloth. “This will probably sting.”

Bucky hissed in pain as you tried to clean his injuries and he squeezed your waist.

“Hurts, baby.” Bucky mumbled softly.

“Sorry, almost done. And maybe this will teach you to stop getting in fights. It will spare you pain and me medical supplies.” You said as you added some waterproof bandages on him. “Now wash up and I’ll have some dinner ready for you, okay?”

He smiled up at you. “M’ kay. You’re too good to me, doll.”

“I know, now go hop in the shower.” You said as you pressed a kiss to his forehead before exiting the bathroom.

By the time Bucky sauntered out of the bathroom, you had finished setting the table. When you went into the kitchen to grab the food, Bucky walked up and hugged you from behind. He sighed with contentment as he squeezed you tightly and nuzzled into your hair.

“Mm, I love you, baby.” Bucky hummed as he pressed a kiss to your hair.

You leaned back into him and smiled. “I love you too, Buck.”

After standing in each other’s embrace for a while, you wiggled out of his grasp.

“We should probably eat before the food gets cold.”

He nodded and gave you a short kiss. “Cuddles after?”

You laughed. “Yes, Buck. Cuddles after.”

Perm Tags: @sleep-i-ness @thefridgeismybestie

#bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #anger issues #baseball player bucky #college au #soft bucky #james buchanan barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 299: No Chains Left

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “and then AFO broke out all of the inmates from six other prisons and took a nap. well anyways, here’s the hospital angst.” Kacchan woke up two days later and was all, “WAIT BUT HOW ARE DEKU AND TODOROKI AND ALL OF THE OTHER CHARACTERS EXCEPT IIDA DOING” and then we cut to Shouto’s room where the other U.A. kids were sitting around being Mutually Traumatized and giving each other moral support and such. Everyone was alll, “...”, and then the rest of the Todofam showed up, INCLUDING POSSIBLY REI?! which, omg. The chapter ended with Kacchan STOMPING THROUGH THE HALLS all “WHADDYA MEAN DEKU HASN’T WOKEN UP YET”, dragging along Satou and Mineta behind him, fueled by the power of ALL OF THE FUCKS HE NOW GIVES. He gives so many fucks now you guys. This boy cares so much he can probably deduct it on his taxes.

Today on BnHA: SPEAKING OF PEOPLE WHO GIVE A LOT OF FUCKS, the story cuts abruptly to Hawks, freshly recovering from his near-death experience, and pondering the threads that have weaved the tapestry of his life and led him to this moment. Basically he grew up in poverty with his Jerk Dad and Jerk Mom until his dad got arrested one day and his mom sent him off to go Find Money Or Something, and so he rescued a busload of people and found himself a new career. Back in the present day, Hawks and Jeanist ride around town in Jeanist’s Jamborghini having awkward encounters with civilians in a country on the brink of social collapse, and visiting Hawks’s mother’s home. Hawks is all “I know from an outsider’s perspective it must look like my life currently sucks, but now that the HPSC is gone, my public image is shot, and my parents are finally out of my life, I’m actually feeling SURPRISINGLY GOOD.” Anyway so he’s gonna go meet up with Endeavor now, and p.s. this chapter was fucking fantastic though, damn.

oh my god?? is this Hawks narration?? something about him growing up watching the heroes on TV and thinking of them as fictional characters

okay I scrolled down a little bit more to see the rest of that “Keigo” panel, and wow

this is basically a shed. poor boy definitely grew up rough. let me tell you guys, I came in here ready for some BakuDeku shenanigans; I was not prepared for Hawks Flashback Angst. I AM HERE FOR IT, but also wow I gotta brace myself now lol

HELLO MISTER HAWKS’S JERK DAD, SIR

BnHA sure does have an array of Jerk Dads, doesn’t it. makes me appreciate characters like Masaru and JirouDad all the more for bucking the trend

anyway. so Horikoshi, you really thought that one itty bitty chapter of hospital catharsis would be enough to calm us all before you went right back to showing us child abuse huh. my god man can we rest

BABY HAWKS

swear to god this kid can’t be more than five or six, and yet he has this completely blank look on his face even with his dad looming over him being all threatening and shit. like he’s shut down his emotions to protect himself. imagine what has to happen to a child for him to have learned this at such a young age. fuck

AND MEANWHILE THIS GUY

don’t mingle with humans?? not “other” humans, just humans?? what is this implying here?? and also holy shit Hawks definitely didn’t inherit his looks from his dad orz

then again he doesn’t really bear much of a resemblance to his strung-out mom here either

omg omg omg. and this child is basically trapped here in this environment with these two people. this explains a SHITLOAD about Hawks’s personality though you guys. his ability to completely separate his real thoughts from the face he presents to the outside world. his pragmatic approach to analyzing and solving problems. his layers of emotional walls. turns out almost none of that came from the HPSC training -- that was all learned hands-on in his own personal do-or-die survival nightmare childhood!! oh, boy

and small wonder then that he latched on to Endeavor so strongly if he really is the one who brought down his dad and inadvertently saved him from this. also, just putting this out there, I know people are always talking about him and Dabi being foils, and I think it’s very interesting how Touya grew up in a household where he saw firsthand the dark side of hero society, and so ended up becoming a villain in order to bring it down. whereas young Keigo had almost the exact opposite experience, growing up experiencing the dark side of villain society and becoming a hero in order to bring about a world where no one else has to experience that. just. both of them are so determined not to become their fathers. some interesting parallels there

so Hawks was sort of an accident after his parents had “thanks for helping me not get caught after I killed that guy” sex, and now this little boy is growing up in squalor and being beaten by his father for things like Sitting In The Wrong Out-Of-The-Way Corner Trying Not To Be A Bother To Anybody. holy fuck. this is so rough to read through you guys

wait so does Jerk Dad have a an eyeball manipulation quirk?? because he doesn’t have the wings like his son, but wth are these things??

this presumably also means that Keigo has never been to school or anything either. he basically doesn’t exist. he thinks heroes are fictional characters, he doesn’t realize that they’re real people. these are people who could help him if he could escape and find them, but he doesn’t know, and they don’t know about him

OH MY GOD HE’S JUST SITTING IN HIS CORNER HUGGLING HIS ENDEAVOR PLUSH OH MY GOD

how could this child possibly have an anti-fandom when he’s done NOTHING WRONG HIS ENTIRE LIFE. huh. just explain that to me. lol I mean I’m not looking to pick a fight with anyone, but also, MAYBE I AM, idk?? this kid has gotten me all riled up lmao

anyways, Protect Keigo 2021, and thank you Horikoshi for these three very terrible pages. I am pleased to inform you that you’ve effectively gotten your point across and you may now commence saving this kid already

YAY

oh no, Keigo’s dumbass jerk dad tried to steal a car and the popo nabbed his ass and now his mom can’t just sit around neglecting her VERY YOUNG SON all day long, oh horrors. sorry lady my tiny violin is on backorder. just imagine that I’m playing a very sarcastic song on it for you

anyway so what are you gonna do now, abandon him? I can hardly imagine he’d be worse off, if anything it might be a near-instant improvement

LMAO HE’S ALL “WAIT WHAT ENDEAVOR’S A REAL FUCKING DUDE?!”

AND THEY SAY THAT A HERO CAN SAVE US~~~~ I’M NOT GONNA STAND HERE AND WAAAAAIT~~~~~ I’LL HOLD ONTO THE WINGS OF THE EAGLES, WATCH AS WE ALL FLY AWAAAAAAY~~~~

lol what a randomly pivotal moment in his young life. TIME TO GO MAKE THESE MEMES INTO DREAMS YOUNG ONE

anyway so his mom freaked out and grabbed him and they wound up at a train station with her TELLING HIM TO GO GET HER SOME MONEY, oh my god. SURE MOM LEMME JUST WALTZ RIGHT ON DOWN TO THE “JOBS FOR FIVE-YEAR-OLDS” STORE AND TELL THEM I NEED SOME CASH. ffff manifesting someone to come help him in 3... 2...

...

SIGH, JUST GO RESCUE THE PEOPLE FROM THE BUS, KEIGO. is this the outfit he was wearing when that happened?? it must be, right?? I can’t imagine them surviving more than a couple days out here unless this starts getting REALLY dark in a way I know that even Horikoshi won’t explore, so yeah. cut to the HPSC now please. never thought we’d be glad to see them. I mean sure, it may be an “out of the frying pan...” case, but good god

THANK YOU!!

and I guess it was his mom’s eyeball quirk then. anyway, whatever, see you again never, hopefully. lol oh man. thaaaat, was upsetting. need to center myself here for a sec. NAMASTE

OH YAY THE PRESENT

so we cut from Baby Hawks Angst straight to Present Day Hawks Angst, huh. not that this exhausted and traumatized lil lad isn’t still a baby to me too, I’ll have you know

BEST JEANIST, ALWAYS WITH THE JOKES

“WHEW, THOUGHT YOU DIED ON ME FOR A SEC THERE KID.” lmao. Caleb will no doubt ruin this by making his word choice all stiffly formal as usual, so I’m just going to treasure this “WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT, I’M FRESH OUT OF FUCKS” version of Jeanist while I can

look at him, driving his Jeanistmobile

again, is it any wonder Kacchan was bitching about Endeavor’s dinky little car when he was used to riding around town in style like this. anyone else staring at this panel trying to figure out how this car is somehow secretly made of jeans

NOOOOO

FUCK YOU DABI LMAO. PUTTING THESE VOICE ACTORS OUT OF A JOB ONE BY ONE

anyway so Jeanist is all “GOOD THING IT’S THE FUTURE AND WE’RE SO GOOD AT MEDICAL SCIENCE” to handwave how Hawks went from one step shy of being a very handsome corpse, to sitting around texting Jeanist in a car all of two days later

OH MY GOD, AND FINALLY AN EXPLANATION FOR THIS

wait a minute. I’m so confused lmfao. soooo, was Hawks all “anyway, here’s Jeanist’s dead body, you can examine it but please don’t look at him too closely and also I’m gonna need that back unharmed.” how tf did you pull that off lmao

(ETA: also isn’t this technically confirmation of the ol’ Noumu Jeanist theory lol. I’m gonna go ahead and say it is.)

NO BUT PLEASE, CONTINUE. I unironically love reading Horikoshi’s overly convoluted “SEE IT’S NOT A PLOT HOLE” explanations

lkldslfk so wait, you’re telling me Hawks convinced Dabi and the League to put Jeanist’s body in storage, and basically just hoped they wouldn’t use him for any experiments until he could put his plan into action and have the HPSC’s people break in and find and revive him?? WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG. A FOOLPROOF PLAN IF I’VE EVER HEARD ONE

fff this man really asked Jeanist to risk it all to prop up his little cover story, and Jeanist was all “sure why not” omfg. anyways, thanks for recapping all of this out loud for no particular reason in your car conversation you two

LMAO NOW WHAT

TROUBLE YOU SAY? GOOD THING THE NEW NUMBER ONE HERO IS ON THE JOB THEN

okay no it’s just some random thugs strolling around terrorizing the downtown. fuck ‘em. so Jeanist is making short work of them now

uh oh

won’t come? not can’t, but won’t?? what???

WOW

well I guess that makes the local heroes A BUNCH OF SHITHEADS now doesn’t it?? jesus

and okay, serious question, if the cops are spread too thin and the heroes have literally walked out on the job, what exactly is stopping everyone from deciding to use their quirks to defend themselves, legal or not? nothing, as far as I can tell. society just got a hell of a lot more chaotic

anyway so this is an interesting panel here

man, Dabi really did pull it off, didn’t he. well anyway so here’s that better world all of the villains were wanting, you guys! isn’t it so great?? everyone’s terrified and angry and losing hope and society is inches away from collapsing into total anarchy! but hey, at least we exposed the number one hero as a hypocrite

anyway so what are these guys up to

fucking hell, he’s visiting his mom. I really wasn’t prepared to commit this much emotional energy towards reading this chapter today. BUT VERY WELL, WE PRESS ON

?? wait she’s not there?

is this supposed to explain how Dabi knew who Hawks really was? except that there’s the little matter of how he even know where to find his mother in the first place. feels like we’re still missing something there, but oh well

OH MY GOD

RHA I TAKE BACK EVERY WORD I EVER SPOKE AGAINST YOU. YOU ARE A SCANLATION GROUP FILLED WITH ANGELS LMAO. I WILL TAKE THIS PANEL IN MY HANDS, AND TREASURE IT AND KEEP IT SAFE

ANYWAY, BECAUSE MY TIRED BIRD SON’S LIFE SUCKED SO MUCH ALREADY, IT TURNS OUT HE’S ACTUALLY PLEASED WITH THIS NEW TURN OF EVENTS LOL HOW ABOUT THAT

GOOD FOR YOU BBY. YOU GO OUT THERE AND BE YOUR OWN PERSON

and in all seriousness, I love that identity he chooses -- chooses, because it actually is him making a choice now, possibly for the very first time in his life -- is “guy who helps people”, though. it really is nothing short of miraculous that he held on to that kind of optimism and desire to do good even with everything he’s been through. there were so many times he could have chosen to turn his back on the world in retaliation for the way it treated him. but he didn’t!! and here he is now, finally free, and what he wants to do with the rest of his life now is simply to help others. anyway please excuse me for a moment, I need to go find some sort of basket or a big vase to put all of my fresh new Hawks Feels in, pardonne-moi

YEAH BOIIIIII

“FIRST ORDER OF BUSINESS, MISTER JEANIST, WHERE DID YOU FIND YOUSELF THAT SWEETASS CAR.” hey, all I’m saying is if this boy’s wings really aren’t growing back, he’s gonna need to find himself a new means of transportation y’know?

oh my god you guys it’s a flashback to his mom buying him the Endeavor plushie when he was like two because, and I quote, ALL MIGHT WAS TOO EXPENSIVE

oh my god oh my god. my boy out here with a new lease on life finding hope in the darkest of times

wasn’t your throat supposed to be all fucked up lmao. Horikoshi was suddenly all “oh shit the VAs are gonna be pissed at me if I keep this up huh”

“that’s why Bubaigawara was such a great guy” motherfucker IT IS A TERRIBLE DAY FOR RAIN. FORECAST SAID NOTHING ABOUT THIS

:’)

yes ma’am. yes indeed. confirmed, I really will straight up fight some motherfuckers for this child. well not really, but YOU KEEP YOUR DISCOURSE OFF MY LAWN AND OUT OF MY BLOG YOU HEAR. THIS IS A HAWKS-FRIENDLY SPACE. WE RESPECT TAKAMI KEIGO IN THESE STREETS

and he’s saying (or is he thinking?? what a weirdly shaped speech bubble this is) that even if what Dabi said about the Todoroki household is true, “I’m not sure it’s the same now.” which happens to be ABSOLUTELY CORRECT. man this whole chapter really is all about saying “fuck the past” and moving forward and I am living for it

SON!!!!

“the first step is at my beginning” fklkjlk. what an iconic fucking line??

AND HIS WINGS!!!! THEY ACTUALLY ARE GROWING BACK AHHHHHHH. “PUT A RAINCHECK ON THAT CAR, JEANIST-SAN.” THE HAWKSMOBILE CAN WAIT, RIGHT NOW HE HAS TO GO INSERT HIMSELF BACK INTO THE TODODRAMA WHETHER THEY LIKE IT OR NOT

you guys. I came here ready for some BAKUDEKU HOSPITAL ANGST, and I got DIDDLY SHIT of that, and none of my other kids were even in this chapter, but!!! ASK ME IF I CARE LMAO omg. because bird son is hanging with his new best friend, and he’s out here Finding Himself and picking up the pieces and putting them back together stronger than ever because RESILIENCE HAS A NAME, AND IT’S SPELLED H-A-W-K-S, and you guys. profound, my love for this child. holy shit. hey google, play Silence by Marshmello

#bnha 299 #takami keigo #hawks (bnha)#best jeanist #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #I found peace in your violence #can't tell me there's no point in trying #I'm at one #and I've been quiet for too long

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spice-chan · 3 years

Note

Did tumblr ate my ask for merman!Bakugou? If yes, can I request merman!bakugou and human!reader? Bakugou wants her so badly that he bites her and she becomes a mermaid. Thank you~~

Fish

Warnings- yandere!Bakugou Katsuki. Reader hates fish(me projecting).

Bakugo’s tail splashed around, a visible sign of his excitement at seeing you, his pretty human, or should he say, his mate?

“Hey, Katsuki!” He heard you call out before you even reached him, jogging up to him.

It was a nice summer day, and you seemed to be glowing in it, so much that he had to shield his eyes for a second when you appeared.

“Tsk, nothin’ better to do?” He spoke nonchalantly, trying to stop his tail from wagging like a mutt. Acting as if he didn’t come here knowing you will at this time to meet him.

You brushed his words off, smile not falling off and halo not letting up.

Your legs(they still looked so strange to Katsuki) squatted down at the rocks at the edge, before you used your hands to stabilize your upper body while your legs did another strange movement before dangling at the rocks and dipping slightly in the water.

You shuddered slightly when you caught sight of his humongous tail. You were more than dismayed when you heard that you will be spending the summer with your granddad in his home on a very remote island. Little wifi connection and surrounded by the creatures you hate most: fish.

You despised them with passion, their slimy skin and soulless eyes make your stomach churn. The same applies to your tailed friend at times, unfortunately.

It really does remind you that he isn’t human like you if the barely visible fins and sharp teeth didn’t hammer the point home. It gave you the vivid image of a big, predatory shark, ready to sink its teeth into its prey.

Oh, but if you manage to get past the painful churning of your stomach and your fear of fish, you get the chance to admire how pretty his tail is. It’s dark orange, with swirls of red and black lines on either side.

Still, you could only do that on a good day when you managed to look long enough without feeling disgust bile in your throat.

“Hey!” He snapped you out of your haze, towards the more humanoid part of him.

“Oop, sorry!” You laughed it off, eyes crinkling happy and back to that dopey look, he’s painfully familiar with.

“You’re such a goof, what were you staring at anyway?” He scoffed, looking at you expectantly.

“Your fins. They make me glad to have legs.”

That piqued his interest, his fins peeking out from beneath the water and splashing slightly as if to express its discontent with being compared to mere legs.

“HAH? Oi, are you outta’ your mind?” He swam around quickly, splashing you with water in his audacious demonstration. He noticed the slight grimace. “Of course fins are better! You can fucking swim with those so easily and...and catch fish and shit. Scratch that, merkind are better than humans in general.”

You looked at him with raised eyebrows, wordlessly objecting his ‘observation’.

“I’m quite content not catching fish, thank you very much. Also, I can swim with my legs.”

It seemed like playful banter to you, but Katsuki was getting quite riled up at an obstacle he hadn't quite anticipated.

If you prefer having legs then...will you ever let him turn you?

How...will he truly be with you then?

With a quick splash, he was at your feet in an instant, reaching for one.

“Lemme see for myself what makes those things so great.”

His fingers poked your toes, spreading the small appendages apart in what one could describe as reluctant fascination.

You drew the line when he tried to put one in his mouth though.

“Eeek” you quickly slid away from him, shielding your toes with a pout.

He blushed, not expecting himself to get so...into this. It’s probably just ‘cause it’s you. Everything about you is nice. Nicer than the other humans he’d observed.

“Sorry” he mumbled, redness spreading to his neck, causing him to avoid your eyes.

You crawled near him again, reaching a palm out to tousle his golden spikes.

“‘It’s ok”

Before long, you were back in your original position, talking and babbling away without a care.

A breeze brushed past, causing the tiniest of hairs to stand up in guard. The sun, which had originally stood proudly in the centre of the sky, seemed so far away now.

“Actually, I gotta leave now.” You went to stand up, but he caught you, holding you in place.

“Why? You usually stay longer.”

“Yeah. But today grandpa is having some guests over, and there’s a guy around my age that he wants me to meet. They should be coming over in an hour. “

Katsuki’s face fell with each word you spoke, he hissed threateningly, a sound you haven’t heard from him in a long, long time.

“Meet him as in, be mates?”

You nodded carelessly, arms folding as if to trap the warmth in as the weather gets breezier and breezier.

“But…you’re my mate.”

The rage in his eyes was something quite foreign to you, you’ve never seen that look on Katsuki, your friendly, merman friend. You shouldn’t have forgotten that he’s partly your worst enemy.

“I have to go.”

All thoughts in Katsuki’s head were dumped into the sea, nothing remaining in his mind but to keep you close. Close to him. Him only.

You screeched loudly as the sharp teeth you feared sunk into your leg, the feeling of a foreign liquid entering your body was the last thing you felt before drifting into slumber, never to wake up the same again.

.........

Will for sure come back to this eventually.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki imagine #bakugo #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou fanfiction #bakugou katsuki fanfics #bakugou katuski x reader #bnha fanfiction #mha bakugou #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere katsuki bakugou #merman!au #merman!bakugou #yandere!bakugou #yandere katsuki #yandere bnha

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queen-scribbles · 4 years

Text

Shepherd’s Honor

This oneshot brought to you by the mental image of Trouble carrying Trick piggyback that wouldn’t go away. :D Not that I tried all that hard.

----

Patrolling Haven was boring. Usually. Trick couldn’t say she cared much for how today chose to make itself an exception to that rule.

Namely the sharp, familiar pain that spiked through her right shin. It had her bracing one hand against a nearby wall for support even as her gaze tipped skyward.

Trouble must have heard her harsh breath in, because he stopped and swung around to look at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Trick said, not finding what she’d expected in her scan of the pale blue sky. She pushed away from the wall and fell in step next to him again, but only made it a few paces before a follow-up ache cramped her leg and made her flinch. “Okay, maybe something...”

Trouble shot her a look caught somewhere between confused and concerned. “What?”

“Well, first off, it’s gonna storm later,” she replied, leaning against his shoulder for support as she tried to shake out the cramping muscles.

That made him frown up at the cloudless sky. “How can you tell?”

“I’m magic,” Trick deadpanned, cautiously setting weight back on that leg.

Trouble snorted. “Shit, I know that. Seriously, Trick, how can you tell? An’ are you alright?”

“Yes, to the second,” she assured him when her leg held weight, “and short answer for the first is I broke my leg real bad when I was younger an’ now it aches when rain’s comin’.”

His nose wrinkled. “That’s... bad. But also kinda cool.”

She laughed. “Tell me about it; all in lookin’ for the silver lining. I don’t like that my leg hurts, but it really comes in handy to have a warning about that kinda thing when you’re debatin’ if you should move on from a town or stay put one more night.”

“I’ll bet.” He cocked his head. “You okay to keep going?”

Trick nodded. “Kinda hafta be, don’t I? We’re only halfway done.”

Trouble rolled his eyes. “Like I’d make you keep walkin’ on that leg if it was hurtin’ you that bad.”

“Sweet of you,” Trick laughed, flipping her braid back over her shoulder. “But it’s fine for now. I’ll let you know if that changes.”

He grinned and nudged her shoulder. “Promise?”

“Shepherd’s honor,” she grinned back. “I promise.”

They made it another quarter of the way before it changed. Not coincidentally, that was when the first dark storm clouds appeared on the horizon. Trouble noticed those two things in the opposite order Trick did; saw the clouds and turned to look at her.

She was limping, she knew, just noticeably, and flashed a sheepish smile. “It doesn’t hurt. Not that bad. Only thing that might be a problem is stairs.” The words had barely left her mouth when they reached the first (very long) flight of stairs back down to Ashtown and the Shepherd compound. “This just isn’t my day, is it?” she muttered wryly, and kicked a pebble off the top step.

Trouble scratched the back of his neck. “Want me to carry you?”

“What, like piggyback?” Trick snarked, touched by the offer but unsure how well it would work.

He shrugged. “’Less you wanna bang your head against the wall every few steps, that’s prob’ly the best way, dontcha think?”

“Yeah, but...”

He winked at her. “C’mon, Trick, you can’t be that heavy.”

Not for you, at least, she thought dryly. “It’s not that! I just know how fast carryin’ weight--any weight--can tire you out on stairs.”

Another shrug. “Better that than makin’ you walk on it.” Trouble grinned. “I’m not gonna drop you.”

Trick laughed. “Promise?”

His grin widened. “Shepherd’s honor.”

She only hesitated a couple seconds more. “Oh, fine.” It would be better than fumbling down on her own, no matter the loss of dignity. And they were pretty close in height, it was easy enough to wrap her arms around his neck and boost herself up. Trouble jokingly staggered sideways as he settled his grip under her legs.

“Muti,” Trick growled through a laugh as she freed one arm to punch his shoulder.

“Just teasin’,” Trouble promised with another grin.

“I know,” she said, resting her chin atop his head. His hair smelled like sun and charch and she smiled at the familiarity. “I’m good when you are.”

“Right.” He shifted ever so slightly so his hands were closer to the backs of her knees, and started down the steps.

It was trickier than either anticipated to keep their balance, but they managed to get to the bottom without killing themselves. There were two or three more similar flights to go, but Trick insisted on walking in between so Trouble could have a break. “It doesn’t hurt that much,” she promised. “More like a really strong cramp than anything.”

“You say that like it’s any better than your leg actually hurtin’.” he muttered.

“Trust me, it is,” she sighed, running one hand along her braid. I know from experience.

Trouble kicked a pebble, and they watched it skitter ahead of them. When they caught up to it, Trick kicked it further. This time it veered sideways when it ricocheted from the edge of a cobblestone and out of reach.

“So, how exactly didja break your leg so bad it helps you predict the weather?” he asked when they reached the next flight of stairs, longer and narrower and curving left.

Trick laughed as she hoisted herself up on his back again. “Oh, it was very exciting. I fell off a ladder.”

Trouble barked a disbelieving laugh of his own. “Really? That’s it?”

“Well, I may have been runnin’ from some people...” she allowed, tightening her grip when he started to turn and look at her. “Trouble, watch where you’re goin’.”

“Right, right.” He hesitated a beat. “Who were you runnin’ from?”

“You want the long version?” Trick chuckled. Even that wasn’t a terribly exciting story, in her opinion, but he was carrying her down steps without a word of complaint. She’d spin him any damn tale about herself he wanted.

“Sure, why not?” Trouble grunted, shifting his grip. “If you don’t mind, anyway.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” she promised, wriggling higher when she realized she was sort of strangling him in her current position. “So, there’s this merchant. Decided he wanted extra muscle for the trip from Capra to this town out near Lindell, which makes sense. He was offering good money and I needed work, so I signed up. It’s a pretty long trip, we had to scare off a couple groups of bandit, actually kill some mean-spirited critters, so I more than earned my lyss this time ‘round.”

“And?” Trouble prompted when she paused.

Trick snorted a laugh through her nose and rested her chin atop his head again. “And the kisich tried to weasel outta payin’ me. Dunno if he was just a skinflint or had something against Diminished or whatever, but when I stood my ground instead of cavin’ like he expected, his men went to force the issue and we had a... uh, scuffle.” She chuckled. “Got the mother of all beautiful black eyes from that scrap. Anyway, partway in, one gets the bright idea to taunt me with the coin purse holdin’ my pay. Guess he thought it would rile me up so I didn’t think straight. He forgot how hard I am to rile. And how quick I can be.” She grinned, her fingers digging into Trouble’s collar. “Punched him in the nose and took off with my money when he dropped it.”

Trouble snorted. “Lemme guess, they came after you.”

“Like yiwari after a rabbit,” Trick confirmed, sliding off his back as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “But I had a really good head start.” Her leg cramped and she glanced up at the much closer storm clouds. “And I made it even bigger ‘cause the outskirts of the town had the houses all built close together, y’know, where you can jump pretty easy roof to roof?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“There was a ladder to the roof every so many houses, so I went up the first one I found and zigzagged my way along the outskirts, jumpin’ alleys an’ hidin’ a couple times ‘til I lost ‘em.”

“Good thing you didn’t fall,” Trouble commented

“Oh, very good,” Another of those silver linings. Trick agreed wryly, scanning the side streets they passed for anything off. It seemed all clear. “Would not have been pretty.”

“Why didn’t ya just tell somebody that kisich was tryin’ to cheat ya?”

She snorted. “Maybe I woulda if I weren’t so obviously Diminished.” She watched his gaze flick to her hair, then back to the street. “They had an.... unlovey reputation regarding how they treated my kind.”

“Oh.” Trouble cracked his knuckles. “I’da kicked their asses. The merchant’s men, I mean.”

“I know,” Trick said with a smile, bumping her shoulder to his(harder than she’d meant to, her limp was getting worse). “If I’d had you backin’ me, I mighta gone for that myself. As it was, I didn’t really wanna fight them. Not there. Just wanted my money. An’ I got that.”

This last stretch of road was a short one, and they reached the final flight of stairs much more quickly than the previous ones. The clouds were actually starting to dim the sun as Trick climbed up on Trouble’s back again, and she hoped the approaching storm held off long enough for them to reach the compound.

“So where this ladder you fell off figure in?” Trouble prompted as he started down the steps.

“Right.” Trick pulled her attention off the sky and back to her story. “Getting down. I waited a good... half hour in my last hidin’ spot to make sure they were gone. The sun was startin’ to set when I finally felt safe comin’ out; the shadows kept me from seeing the, uh, condition of the closest ladder. The wood was all dry-rotted, fourth or fifth rung down broke the second I put weight on it. I fell maybe fifteen feet? Somethin’ like that.”

Trouble gave a low whistle. “Ouch.”

“Tell me about it, I’m lucky my leg’s the only thing I broke. But it was bad enough to more than make up for being the only damage--bone ripped through the skin and everything.”

“What didja do?” he asked, boosting her higher as she started to slide.

“Limped--well, hobbled is prob’ly better--around til I found a healer. Fortunately didn’t take too long,” she shrugged. “Hadn’t scrapped together enough know-how to fix somethin’ that bad for myself yet.” She wiggled her finger significantly and snorted. “Barely had twenty lyss to my name after payin’ the man. And even with his help, it still scarred real nasty. ‘Bout this long.” She let go with one hand to hold thumb and index finger four or five inches apart in demonstration. “An’ now I have a surefire way of tellin’ when it’s gonna” --a fat, wet droplet hit the back of her neck and made her flinch--”rain.”

Trouble swore as they reached the bottom of the steps and he let her down. “Was hopin’ we’d make it back ‘fore that got here,” he admitted as rain freckled both their shirts.

“You and me both,” Trick said wryly. She grabbed his wrist. The compound was in view down the the far end of the street. “C’mon, if we hurry, maybe we can at least avoid getting completely drenched.”

He laughed and let her tug him into motion, but was nice enough to not outpace her when her limp slowed her down. Which meant they both got drenched when the skies opened up just before they made it through the Shepherd compound gates.

Trouble swore again, but he was grinning when they ducked under the cover of the entrance and he shook water from his hair like a dog.

“Sorry,” Trick said through a laugh, only slightly sheepish, and squeezed water from her braid. “But thanks for the help. And stickin’ with me.”

“Don’t mention it,” he winked, thumping her on the back with one hand while he raked hair out of his eyes with the other. “It’s what you do for friends.”

“Still.” She lightly punched his shoulder. “I appreciate it. And I appreciated even more that you didn’t drop me.”

“Hey, I promised, didn’t I?” Trouble said with a laugh. “Shepherd’s honor an’ all.”

“And I’ve encountered enough people who didn’t keep their word to make me appreciate when someone does.” Trick glanced toward the courtyard, rain now falling in sheets. “You know we still have to make it across that to get to our rooms, right?”

Trouble’s grin widened. “Need another ride?”

Trick’s leg twinged even as thunder rumbled and she snorted a laugh. “Wouldn’t turn it down.”

““Alright, then.”

Neither of them cared if anyone saw their pell-mell run through the downpour for the dormitory wing of the compound, Trick’s arms locked around Trouble’s neck and both laughing the whole way. Trouble kicked the door shut behind them and Trick tightened her grip in a backwards sort-of hug before sliding off.

“Thanks, Trouble,” she grinned, bumping her shoulder to his.

“Welcome, Trick,” he returned, also grinning as he returned the shoulder bump before they headed for their rooms to dry off.

Trick found herself smiling as she stripped off her wet clothes--and not just because her gun had escaped getting wet. While her leg flaring up and then getting rained on wouldn’t have been her first choice for how to break the monotony of patrol, at least handling it with a friend--especially one strong enough to carry her--had kept it from being entirely awful.

Honestly, she had to admit as she dried off and reached for fresh clothes, it had almost (almost) been fun.

#queens fic #shepherds of haven #elyana trick #trouble alder #shoh #not really shippy bc neither of these goofballs has started falling yet #(not that they'll REALIZE when they start falling #she's at least as oblivious as him)

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yukiwrites · 4 years

Text

Scheming, but Loving

Thanks for the support again, @lightningbug-lane! I really like writing for ojou-sama types, so I hope I did Chantal justice! >v<)b

This is a Support Chain C-S between her OC Chantal and Yuri!

Commission info HERE and HERE!

______________________________

C SUPPORT

Chantal: Ah, here you are at last, dearie.

Yuri arrives

Yuri: Expected me, did ya now, Lady? Then I’m sure you know the reason why I’m here and will also have a proper explanation for it?

Chantal: Why, I may need my memory refreshed, Yuri dear, for I am known to do much AND I always do it well.

Yuri: I usually have you all figured out, Lady, but this time you done and confused me out of my wits. What’s your deal? Seeing as you’ve been an Abyssian for quite a while I let your nosiness-

Chantal: Competence-

Yuri: -slide most times, but now I gotta hear it from the horse’s mouth. Spill it.

Chantal: Horse?! The LEAST you could do is refer to me as a graceful doe. Perhaps a butterfly; how about that?

Yuri: With that poisonous mouth? I would say ‘snake’ fits ya better, Lady.

Chantal: Ohohoho! Quite the predator for our little Mockingbird, yes? I quite like this, myself!

Yuri: I see you’ve learned how to dodge the subject quite well -- from observing yours truly, surely -- so the more words leave your mouth, the more I notice I am wasting my time here. If you do not talk, I will have other means of discovering what truly happened.

Chantal: *sighs* But you are a spoilsport, are you not, Yuri dearest? Go on, sit down and let us enjoy a refreshing cup of tea. I have acquired the most delectable sweets-

Yuri: Aha, so this is where it all went.

Chantal: Come again?

Yuri: The budget for this week’s rations to the folks back in Abyss. The bloke to whom I entrusted it said you told him you’d take care of everything and relieved him of his duties. And now, as I have heard, here you are, consuming high-end pastries and expensive tea.

Chantal: ...

Yuri: I honestly didn't expect this coming from you of all people, Lady.

Chantal: Are you done? Also, will you consume that macaron I served you or will you simply accuse me before getting your facts straight? I am the one who expected better of you, dear. Jumping to conclusions? If that is so, surely you only lasted this long in the underworld due to luck.

Yuri: Oh? Then, may I have the truth? Where is the budget for the people’s meals?

Chantal: Aha, so you never suspected me at all and just wanted to rile me into fessing up in a mad rage! Did I get it right? I outgrew such petty overreactions quite some years ago, dear. You’ll have to try harder than that to make me lose my cool. *giggles*

Chantal: Regardless, since I did take it upon myself to acquire the supplies, I shall inform you, since you deserve to know as the second in command here in the Abyss.

Yuri: Hah, wait. You think YOU’RE the boss here? Lady, really?

Chantal: Why, quite. Allow me to tell you about that new business you overlooked...

Yuri: And theeere we go again.

B SUPPORT

Chantal: Hm… So those are their intentions? I suppose that means we will not have peace for long.

Man: It’s as I wrote in the report, Lady Chantal. Things at the capital are…

Chantal: Yes, indeed. I shall take my time to read this thoroughly. You did a good job.

Man: I’m the one thankful to Lady Chantal for giving me the chance to be of use. If it weren’t for you finding me and my wife when you did…

Chantal: Mhm, I it was an excellent choice to invest in your wife’s business, my good sir. As for your services, for now you are excused.

Man: Yes, Lady Chantal. I thank you again, if it weren’t for you…

Chantal: Yes, yes. Off you go, dearie. We have a visitor in case you hadn’t noticed.

Man: O-oh! F-forgive me, I’ll excuse myself now.

Man leaves.

Yuri: Ah, so you knew I was here the whole time? Bummer.

Chantal: You gave your presence away on purpose, did you not, Yuri? ‘Look here, Lady, I’m watchin’ you going ‘round in your business so I can threaten you later with it! Fun, fun, fun!’ no?

Yuri: First, may I tell you that your imitation of my voice and accent is TERRIBLE, but honestly speaking, you could make a living out of it.

Chantal: ...

Yuri: Second: I would only use this against you if our goals collided, but from what I’m guessin’, they’re still very much the same, yeah?

Chantal: Indeed. I only want what is best for the Abyssians, though of course it pays to be informed of the situation over yonder.

Yuri: So, what say you? Same predictions as the last time that man came to deliver the report?

Chantal: Watching me from way back then, hm, Yuri dearie?

Yuri: You say it like you didn’t know! I must admit, you’re good at pretending to be shocked about stuff.

Chantal: Ohohoho! Observing how one conversational partner acts and reacts is the bare essential of being good at what one does, is it not? You have that skill yourself, but you only use it to suck up to nobles whereas I, well, use it to survive, as you well know.

Yuri: … Yeah.

Yuri: Wasn’t that man’s wife the one who started that new business you mentioned before? I dug a bit more after you told me about them. You invested what little you had made over the years of banishment to help her take off and used a few noble contacts you’ve had dealings with in the past to “accidentally” discover her high-end pastries. Now she has clients with full coffers buying from her and her family’s undying loyalty to you.

Chantal: Quite a deal, was it not? I do not take a single step without knowing full well of where it will take me!

Yuri: Heh, for someone so full of herself, you sure know what you’re talkin’ about there, Lady.

Chantal: And you had any doubts? Humph!

Chantal: Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have this report to read… Unless you’d like to come with me? You’ll know of its contents one way or another, regardless, so it is better to enjoy a smart conversation when I can have one.

Yuri: Hah! Lead the way, Lady. And if you have more of those pastries, I wouldn’t oppose to one or two.

Chantal: Mh-hm-hm! Smitten with them, weren’t you? I suppose I can oblige…

A SUPPORT

Chantal: *sighs* I suppose I must admit this is not my forte. As vexing as it is to admit, I do not shine in battle tactics as much as I would wish, so perhaps I should, indeed, leave the protection of the Abyss to Yuri. I can manage holding down the fort during a siege, but the battling...

Yuri: I get where you’re coming from. You wanna be able to do everything without relyin’ on anyone, yeah?

Chantal: WAH!! Huff huff... Goddess protect me, you surprised me, Yuri!

Yuri: Hah! Finally managed to sneak up on you, huh? Aware of my true sneaking prowess now, Lady?

Chantal: *groans* I beg you leave me be. I did not wish to be seen, least of all now.

Yuri: … Alright, sorry ‘bout that tease there, just tryin’ to lift your mood back up a bit. Look, lemme tell you something.

Chantal: I would rather not hear.

Yuri: I’ll tell you anyway, ‘cause it’s something you and I both need to hear: I, too, don’t like-- well, more like I don’t think I can afford to rely on other people. What if they fail and everything crumbles? What if I’m not there to watch their every step to see if everything’s comin’ along like I planned? What if, hell, what if they die doing what I relied on them to do? It’s much easier to just relay orders and keep back-up plans and act on them when the time arrives, yeah?

Chantal: ...

Yuri: Honestly, I still think like that from time to time. Probably will never stop thinkin’ like that, ever, but ya know… Something changed in these years we’ve been together running the Abyss.

Chantal: *scoffs* Finally admitting I am the best choice to be the leader of Abyss, Yuri?

Yuri: Actually, that WAS where I was heading, yeah.

Chantal: *gasps*

Yuri: More like that we’re a great team at this -- together. Sure, you don’t have what it takes to command people in battle, but I do. You can guide the Abyssians under a siege while I can go off to battle and know things will be safe in here. I won’t have to worry.

Chantal: As a… team? Working together? I- I must confess this is something new for me, Yuri dear. As you well know, I haven’t relied on anyone since I was a little girl.

Yuri: Yeah.

Chantal: People wanted to exploit me while my father was away, so I had to grow a wit and a sharp mind before I could even outgrow my playing dolls. I always had only myself to rely on -- on my own predictions, my own investments, my own orders...

Yuri: I know. I get it, as I said. I also don’t think I’ll ever be able to truly rely on someone, but if it’s you taking care of the Abyssians while I’m away? That one I can handle. I know how much you care for everyone here; maybe even as much as I do, hah!

Chantal: Ah, perhaps I do not care to such an extent. *giggles* Your devotion is SO dissonant to your entire ‘man of the shadows’ persona… Truly a sight!

Yuri: I’ll excuse being mocked if it means to have you smiling again, Lady. Only this time, though, you hear? Now, let’s head back to the dorms, yeah? The night’s not getting any younger.

Chantal: Very well. … Thank you, Yuri.

S SUPPORT

Yuri: Lately I’m seeing more and more and Chantal’s people hovering over me. It’s keepin’ me in my toes, really! To think I would need to brush up my sneaking skills just for this one thing… Ah, well, surely it’ll be worth the trouble of giving the slip to that many people.

Yuri: It’s a sight to see, honestly, how she’s been chalking up influence here and there and acquiring more faithful peeps to her side. Now, to chase the lady!

Yuri leaves

Chantal, on her own: The end of all conflict is nigh, and yet this uneasy feeling plagues my very being. I am doing everything just as perfectly as I ever did! Tsk, why is it that NOT KNOWING something can make one feel this way...

Chantal: Ah, and there he is, the source of all my problems.

Yuri: Harsh. Also just so you know, I let you sense my arrival.

Chantal: Oh, I know by now that when you want to disappear, you have every means to, dearie. My spies would know.

Yuri: Are you telling me this openly that you had me tailed because you know I’d forgive you or did that make you so mad you don’t care anymore? Wait, don’t answer, I know.

Chantal: ...

Yuri: It’s both, isn’t it? You’re already so smitten by me you know I’ll forgive you for almost anything you do to me, BUT you’re also seething ‘cause I gave your peeps the slip.

Chantal, blushing: I’ll have- *ahem*

Chantal: I’ll have you know that your sentence makes no sense! The one who has to be smitten by me has to be YOU for you to forgive me, dearie, not the other way around.

Yuri: Hah, well, that’s true, so I don’t need to lie about THAT.

Chantal, blushing: W-what, my ears must be playing tricks on me. Did you just CONFESS out of nowhere like a mannerless cur?

Yuri: Nope. I’m confessing NOW, like a properly mannered cur. Here you go, Chantal. I hope you can accept this. I went through all that trouble of slipping away just so I could surprise you and- hah! See that very face you’re making. Worth it.

Chantal, blushing: I- That is not a very good confession, Yuri! ‘Worth it’? Why, I should just take this ring and, and… and be done with it.

Yuri: By putting it on? Yeah, it looks really good on you as I thought it would. Honestly, I can only say my feelings so openly like this because this is you we’re talking about here. I feel that, with you, can truly be with my equal. I can joke, but you’ll also tease me in return. I can talk seriously and you’ll respond in kind.

Chantal: Yuri, I- I have always feared to show my true weakness. Even now, I am equal parts terrified and overjoyed about all of this.

Yuri: Mhm.

Chantal: E-even so, will you still wait for me? Wait until I can proudly call you my beloved and tell you the depth of my feelings for you? I truly wish to stay by your side until death do us part, but I cannot convey it all just yet.

Yuri: Welp, you just did it, silly Lady. I don’t need any fancy words or promises. I just want us to stay side by side forever. You and me, down the road, Chantal?

Chantal, blushing: Yes, Yuri. You and me, together. I… I love you.

Yuri: I’m quite fallen for you too, if this all is any indication. Hah! Joking, teasing! Don’t give me that look. … I love you, too, Chantal.

#fire emblem three houses #fe3h #yuri fire emblem #fatesona #my writings #support chains #yuki's commissions

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cetaceans-pls · 4 years

Link

Fandom: Batman - All Media Types Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Jason Todd, Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne Characters: Jason Todd, Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne

Summary:

Revolution and family both run on love and carbohydrates, and you can quote Jason on that.

Or, Jason swings by the Manor to find Alfred stress-cooking his heart out after a fight with Bruce, and over the course of making dumplings, the concept of caring by way of cooking becomes clear.

June got me feeling some kind of way about blatantly showing people you care about how much you care. We’re almost halfway through 2020, so keep on keeping on, and be charitable and kind as often as you possibly can.

Fic in Tumblr under the cut, and here’s my masterlist for more sweet sweet reads:

2020, right?

Jason’s not sure there’s anything left in his tank except for spite; it’s enough to get him out and about making sure that the GCPD watched their fucking step, but even spite is (surprisingly enough) not endless. That’s the hallmark of this most accursed of accursed years; prickly energy up-down his back that leaves him restless, and a complete inability to actually do any fucking thing about any fucking bit of it.

Times like these, there’s really just the one sure-fire way to re-find centre, and if it involves hacking into the family calendar to find just the right time when most everyone’s out of the house, well. There’s a reason Bruce never revoked his access, even if he’s got a second lifetime left to regret his pre-teen e-mail address ( ‘ [email protected] ’, where the w’s are of course for Wonder Woman, and the x’s are for Cool).

It’s a shitty hot June day, depression and distress are heavier in the air even than the choking humidity, and the Manor is quiet and cool in comparison. It’s tomb-like, yeah, but it’s not coffin-like and that makes all the difference. Jason comes in through the front door because he knows the house is mostly empty, and sheds layers as he goes. By the time he reaches the kitchen, he’s a full-grown man in ratty sweats and a sweat-damp undershirt, and Alfred looks up at him with endless warmth. “Why, Master Jason, if you had rung the bell I could have greeted you at the door.”

Jason looks both ways just in case, because this family is full up to the neck in people with horrific timing, before ducking down and pecking Alfred on the cheek; xxwwDangerBirdwwxx is not the only thing that stayed with him from childhood. “Heya, Alfie,” he says, already feeling 15 degrees better than he did outside. “I just let myself in, don’t sweat it. Am I interrupting something?”

He very clearly is. Alfred doesn’t have his coat on, and looks achingly domestic with his shirt sleeves neatly folded up and his soft fuzzy sweater-vest. His hands are a floury mess, kneading dough the size of two Dick-heads, but Alfred’s already moving away to wash his hands and put the kettle on. “Hey, no, you don’t have to, lemme just make my own-”

“Nonsense, Master Jason,” Alfred says, mild-mannered and a thousand times more menacing than Batman at his absolute worst. “It’s no trouble, there’s leftover roast beef from dinner yesterday, it won’t take a moment to make you a snack.”

And in less than said moment, Jason has tea-with-honey-and-milk, and a roast beef sandwich that smells like the dream ideal of every roast beef sandwich. He’s already eating before his brain can tell him to protest Alfred waiting on him, and the appreciative groan comes in right on queue, under a second after that first bite.

There is A Father, A Son, and A Holy Ghost, and they manifest all at once as an elderly British man with the finger strength of a mid-sized mountain gorilla. That dough is being beaten into absolute submission as Alfred gets back into the swing of things, and over the course of the consumption of a sandwich, it becomes a smooth, perfect lump that gets lovingly plopped into a bowl and covered with a damp tea cloth.

Alfred doesn’t ask Jason if there’s something wrong, or if he needs something. The clearest need is obviously the need to be home, and home Jason is, so whatever thing that next goes wrong had best be prepared to face Alfred and his selection of awful terrible knives that line the kitchen. He puts the bowl away on a shady spot on a windowsill and pulls out a mountain of onions instead, and gets to peeling.

Jason pulls out a switchblade from somewhere about his person, blitzes it with the hand sanitiser they’ve all been guilted into bringing with them at any and all times, and starts helping. His kitchen in his ratty apartment is where all the rats in the building like to hold Communion or something, so he’s long since given up having fresh produce around. Happily, vigilanteeism with a side of crime bossing keeps your knife skills sharp, and there’s something alarmingly freeing about peeling and chopping onions while unavoidable tears start up, in a sunny kitchen with your granddad.

“What’re we getting all these onions ready for, anyways?” Jason says, enjoying the excuse to have a stress cry. Alfred doesn’t suffer from waterworks, but that’s because he suffers from chronic dry eyes instead. It's a condition that persists despite every Robin in a long line of Robins buying every eye drop product on the market between them for him to try.

Crying's a funny ol’ thing in the Manor, and it’s also funny that Alfred’s probably seen the most tears despite being the man least capable of them.

“Everyone has been running ragged across the city recently, and I thought that dumplings might be quite a nice treat for dinner tonight. I assume you’ll be joining us, won’t you Master Jason?”

“Of course,” Jason says because there’s no point getting between Alfred and dinner participation. There’s a bigger issue at hand anyways; dumplings are delicious but also obnoxiously difficult to make in any quantity fit to feed Bats and Birds and their oversized appetites. Everybody in the household has a favourite type, but everybody in the household worries when they get their wish, because Alfred only ever makes dumplings for a full meal when he’s stress-cooking out of his mind.

The man can’t even stress-cry while cutting onions, for fuck’s sake.

It’s best to broach the topic with a soft touch, which sucks entire balls because it’s not exactly Jason’s specialty. “So, uh. What dumplings are we making today?”

“Only 3 types,” Alfred says with a hint of apology. “Xiaolongbao, because I wanted to finish up the last batch of stock I made and Master Dick does so enjoy soup dumplings. A side of cheese-and-spinach momos for Master Damian, who has mentioned missing Tibetan food. And seeing as how you’ll be joining us, as many gyoza as these old hands of mine are able to make, Master Jason.”

Okay, cool, so an infinity of endless, delicious potstickers then, all right. What a time to be alive, Jason thinks to himself. “Not making anything special for B, huh?”

The mood takes a turn for the spoilt, goes off faster than tipping a fistful of salt into a cup of milk. “Master Bruce will have whatever is available, and he will enjoy it,” Alfred says frostily, and chops the end off an onion with significantly more force than reasonable.

That’s the answer, then. Christ, what has Bruce done now? “Saw on the schedule that he’s got a board meeting for another couple of hours, Alfred, so you can lay it on me. What happened? Are you okay?”

Alfred looks at him at that, looks at him and smiles the smile he gets every year when he’s inundated with gifts on Mother’s Day and Father’s Day and the arbitrarily set Alfred’s Day (September 8th, as decided by Dick on a whim entire aeons ago), and Jason tries not to feel embarrassed because he’s a whole-ass adult but he doesn’t pretend he’s not pleased to have made the mood ease up. “I’m well, Master Jason, thank you for your concern. I’m afraid I can’t say the same for Master Bruce.” He sighs, and they fall into silence. B brings bad communication out of the best of men, what else is new.

The mound of onions done, Jason is assigned ginger and garlic and potatoes and more things fresh from the garden and greenhouse, while Alfred starts taking his frustration out on a mountain of meat.

Jason’s careful to keep their produce separate, as is Alfred; wouldn’t do to cross-contaminate meat into momos, after all. They work and they work and they work, until all the prep is done and all that’s left is the dough and the stuffing.

The duties get divided like this: Jason gets the cheese and the seasoned spinach to make vegetarian dumplings for Damian, and Alfred gets literally everything else. Despite this, though, Alfred’s sure fingers and devastating dexterity churn out beautifully-shaped dumplings at 4 times Jason’s top speed.

Jason’s got 8 done and Alfred’s putting an entire tray away when Alfred finally breaks their quiet and sighs, looking as old as he is (and isn’t that the most horrifying thing this horrifying year, hey). “Excuse my dour mood, Master Jason. I had an altercation with Master Bruce this morning, regarding his workload and his reluctance to delegate. It grew unfortunately heated, and I turned a blind eye to his extremely broken hand. I did not stop him from leaving the Manor for work." A little additional violence goes into the folding of the current gyoza, and Alfred's lips twist and turn down like a dumpling fold. "Decades I've spent looking after the man. It's alarming how he can still rile me up so."

Isn't that a Universal Truth. Alfred's Angry Gyoza still looks better than Jason's best go at a momo, which is also a Universal Truth. He just needs to try again, till he gets better. Alfred’s good at indirectly teaching patience, and directly practicing it himself, but everyone’s got a line and it’s not the first time somebody’s crossed this one. “It’s his special gift, swear to God. You know what they say, Alfie. Hell really is other people.” Oh, the pleats on this one are looking mighty fine. “Uh, just. How bad a break are we talking about here? What exactly did he do to piss you off this time?”

“He hasn’t had more than 2 hours of sleep a day since, oh, April, I believe. Master Bruce is trying to effect systemic change at both his day-time and night-time jobs, and he has been running on little more than righteous anger and painkillers for weeks. Master Tim has tried to talk him down, as have I, but yesterday he shattered his wrist in a fight with far too many pigs and I found him working down below when I woke up this morning with his hand wrapped up in duct tape.” Alfred sighs, and rubs at his forehead with the back of his hand. “Duct tape and batarangs for splints, Lord help me, because he didn’t want me to worry about the true extent of his injuries.”

And now Bruce is in his civvies with an unknown number of broken bones and a blood opium level that’s over 9000, trying to do good in a no-good world, and all Alfred can do is to become more dumpling machine than man to avoid the deep unpleasantness of it all.

Jason whistles. He thought he’d been having a bad time but at least Alfred was a surefire source of comfort. Alfred’s place to turn to until he’d walked in was just a lump of dough, shit. “Sounds about right for him. But Alfie, how ‘bout you? You’re the one co-ordinating the largest band of crime fighters outside the League, and you’re most of the reason why the man that does co-ordinate the League is even a little bit functioning.” Bruce is a whole entire adult man filled to the brows with idiocy, sure, but… “If everyone’s running ragged you’re gonna be running ragged-est, and if I thought that was the case, we-ell. Duct tape starts looking better and better.”

Alfred looks affronted and gently outraged. “I have been doing just fine, Master Jason. I am not the man running around in costume trying to punch unkindness out of his fellow man. I am just the butler, sitting at home making dumplings, while the master of the household is tripping across the financial district in screaming pain.” Uh oh, here comes another Angry Gyoza, perfectly-shaped and squeezed just a shade too hard.

Jason puts down a slightly-less-crappy momo on his tray, and reaches across the small kitchen table to catch Alfred by the wrist, gentle as anything. “Alfie, I’m saying this as someone who loves you so much I’d literally kill for you,” and boy Jason sure does mean literally, “but hard-headedness is a learned trait, and we got it from B and B got it from you. The man’s an idiot, sure, but sounds like he’s probably at least as worried ‘bout you as you are ‘bout him. Does that sound about right?”

Ah, he really does suck at this whole sweetly-softly thing, but it’s clear once you think to look. Alfred’s game face is in many ways more impenetrable even than a cowl and a mask, but there’re dark circles under his eyes, he’s sallow instead of just pale, and there’s an exhausted stoop to his back that’s usually hidden under a perfectly-tailored suit jacket. Jason’s seeing it now after weeks of work keeping him away from the Manor; if he’d been seeing Alfred like this every day for the past god-knows-how-long, self-care with tape would suddenly seem incredibly appealing.

Alfred looks at his hand, Jason looks at Alfred, and they’re both quiet for a while. Jason thinks he should let go, but he also can’t help but feel that if he does, Alfred’s going to go back to being ‘just the butler’, and that’s not right, not right at all.

In the end, Alfred makes the first move, pulling away just so that he can pat the back of Jason’s hand. “It’s always a pleasant surprise to see how you have grown into such a fine young man,” he says absently, devastatingly. “Especially given the role models you were saddled with. Master Bruce…. may have brought up that I was working more than I should, though he did not come up with a viable alternative.” Alfred rolls his eyes, a rarity in public view. “He tried to give me a curfew; off the comms by midnight, Alfred, that’s the rule.”

They both snort at that. No one’s respected curfew in any format at any age in this household, and it’s almost sweet how Bruce nevertheless keeps trying it on child, adult, and parent alike.

“Nevertheless,” Alfred continues, hand still on Jason’s, “it’s a fair point to say that my and Master Bruce’s worrying over each has grown somewhat out of control, and changes need to be made. It… would help to have another pair of hands at the Manor.”

Oh, no. Alfred’s about-turn raises Jason’s suspicions, but it’s too late for him to do anything about it.

“Oh,” Alfred says with an exaggerated sigh, a smile hiding in plain sight, “it would do my old heart good if Master Bruce were to have more assistance during his night-time escapades. And if someone were available to help me cut onions and dice garlic, that would help too.”

Jason’s already fucking sunk, because he’s learned how to say ‘no’ to many things and 'fuck off' to a few more, but he’s never learned how to turn down an Alfred who works harder than most anyone to never ask for more than what his family can give.

He groans, completely trapped. “I’m a grown adult and I’m not moving back home with my family, Alfie, c’mon.”

Alfred pats him again, and goes back to making Jason’s favourite dumplings. “Of course, Master Jason, but that’s no reason why you couldn’t have dinner at home more often. Besides, who will badger and bully Master Bruce into being a more reasonable man if not for you?”

That’s a reasonable ask, because post-resurrection Jason has carved out time in his busy schedule to constantly prod and poke Bruce into being less of an asshole. And if Jason’s willing to go on a murderous rampage at Alfred’s behest, coming by more often to work together and help out isn’t much of an ask at all.

“Stop it, you already know I’m gonna say yes,” Jason grumbles, moving back to his task. “Alfie, you’re the absolute worst manipulator in the entire house, and this house is full of bastards.”

Alfred just laughs quietly, seeming more at ease and at peace than he was at the start. "I'm afraid, sir, I'll have to respectfully disagree. Hell may be other people, but this family, I think, is about as good as it gets."

And really, what's a good comeback to that?

Jason's setting the kitchen table for dinner while Alfred handles the steamer baskets and griddle with tremendous aplomb when the door creeps open timidly. That has Jason immediately on high alert, because nobody in the Manor does anything timidly.

It's Bruce, looking how he looks when he's about to go 3 rounds with the Joker while Killer Croc's nipping at one heel and the Penguin’s gnawing on the other. His right hand is wrapped in a blue cast, strapped to his front in a utilitarian white sling, and his left arm is weighed down with a grocery bag filled to bursting with what looks to be a guilty gift of assorted snacks and baked goods.

(Alfred is a nightmare to shop for; anything from a pet rock to a chef’s knife made of Damascus steel and beaten gold would be received with the same expression of fond long-suffering. Literally the finest analytical minds in the country still don't know if he's a Coke or a Dr. Pepper man, urgh.)

“Hello, Jason,” Bruce greets him, but his eyes are stuck fast on Alfred, calculating and hesitant.

“Hey, B,” Jason calls back, and takes the time to enjoy the sight of the big bad Batman mousily scurrying into the kitchen as he tries to gauge Alfred’s mood. “Went shopping, huh?”

“Just a few things.” Bruce carefully puts the bag on the kitchen counter and stops there, glancing at Alfred’s back warily. “It’s good to see you.”

Where Jason’s stood he can make out Alfred’s extremely indulgent smile, and it’s pretty clear he’s dragging the moment out to let Bruce stew a little. It’s a pretty worthwhile activity, so Jason just goes along with it, even though he can see Bruce tensing up as he sees the endless platters of dumplings and immediately Understands what sort of day Alfred’s been having. “Same, I guess. Your hand okay?”

That perks B right up. In a slightly too-loud voice, like he wants to make sure Alfred hears him, he says, “Could be worse. Leslie had me fixed up, and she’s putting me on strict rest for a week.” Another cautious peek at the stern line of Alfred’s back. “Doctor’s orders, and I have some investigative work to catch up with anyways, so Dick is stepping in for me for a few days.”

Christ, the peace offering couldn’t be made any more blatant if Bruce had come complete with a fruit basket and a Hallmark card of a sad-looking lamb. Jason almost wants to laugh, but he’s starting to feel a bit bad about the surreptitious glances, the uncertain line of the lip. Everyone’s been there, right? Done something a bit dumb and hurt somebody important, unwilling or unable to apologise, and when you try to make up for it it’s just butterflies-in-stomach and cheek-chewing until the other person gives a clear sign that it’s okay, it’s okay, Jaybird, I’m not upset about the car, I’m just glad you’re safe -

Nostalgia’s heavier in the air than the smell of fresh-fried potstickers. Lucky, though, that kindness is probably something you pick up from your parents too, because by the time Jason comes back to the moment Alfred’s already turned to face Bruce, an ice pack in hand. “I am delighted to hear it, sir,” Alfred tells him stiffly, but is gentle as anything as he leads Bruce to a kitchen chair and helps him ice his swollen hand.

The relief that takes over Bruce’s entire face when Alfred finally talks to him is eye-watering in its vulnerability, and the way he melts into the chair under the slightest bit of fussing is, honestly, equal parts sweet and sad.

Alfred must be similarly moved, because he procures a cushion out of thin air for Bruce to rest his arm on so that he can be free of the sling, and takes a moment to just stand there and brush dark hair away from a worn-out face. Bruce is out of it enough that he’s got his eyes closed and he’s just enjoying the careful touch, and Jason wants to scream a little, because how was Alfred surprised he grew up into an okay kind of guy when this was the standard the household set?

“Good man,” Alfred says, and maybe it’s in response to following Dr. Thompkins orders, but it’s pretty hard to misread that really, he just means 'good' in every way a man can be good when he looks at a half-asleep Bruce like that. “I’ll put the kettle on, and you can nibble on some pierogies while we wait for the family to gather, Master Bruce.”

That wakes Bruce right back up. “Are they-”

“Filled with cheese and potatoes, sir, of course. Why would I make anything but your favourite?” Alfred sniffs like he’s offended, but he’s still smiling as he pats Bruce on the shoulder before heading back to counter and Bruce’s bag of apologroceries.

He fishes out a beautiful red-and-white bakery box, and looks legitimately impressed. “Oh, my, Master Bruce. How did you find Bakewell tarts in Gotham? I haven’t had any in years, and I must confess to being partial to them.”

“Cross-referenced the ingredients of every perishable snack item available in the UK against the fresh produce that you buy often enough to be a statistically significant indicator of preference,” Bruce says around a yawn, like he’s not being absolutely insane right now. “Sorted it into an alphabetized list and sourced them from across the tri-state area. Letters A through to J are in that bag, but-,” another yawn, like Alfred and pierogies are the only thing keeping him going, “-but I’m glad I found you something you liked, Alfred.”

Jason just sits there, committing to memory that Alfie likes whatever the hell a Bakewell is, that he also somehow managed to make an entire dumpling series without Jason noticing, that Bruce fuckin’ Wayne’s favourite dump has cheesy mash stuffing, and that this is how to show care and affection when words are damn hard to get out. He sighs, because he has to fucking sigh, because now he’s so goddamn stricken over how love is inherent in groceries, and it’s so embarrassing how he absolutely, 100% would obliterate a nation in the name of the two men in this quiet little kitchen in the cursed year of our Lord, 2020.

When Alfred does return from the stove bearing a plate of piping hot pierogies for Bruce and gyoza for Jason, he feels OP enough to rip into the throat of the cruelty inherent in this world with his bare fucking teeth, and right after dinner, he really fucking will.

(Revolution and family both run love and carbohydrates, and you can quote him on that).

a/n: i don’t legitimately think anybody reads fic on tumblr bc i definitely loathe doing it so i mostly just write this to 1. soundboard myself and 2. wish that you’re doing okay just in case you did make it here. what a year of agonies, but the hope is that it’ll be 2021 and when you look back you think, oh, those were growing pains, and the world is tangibly better for having weathered it.

that’s the hope.

#batman #jason todd #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #jay & alfie #alfie & b #batfam #spoilers: this is just several thousand words of me thinking about what it means to look out for someone you care about #god cannot believe i went down the bathole and it's not the tech or the detectiving or the fighting that got me #it's just me consistently crying over the concept of familial bonds

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spine-buster · 5 years

Text

Alone, Together | Chapter 28 | Morgan Rielly

A/N: I couldn’t bear to re-live too much of the playoffs so...yeah. This is the last chapter to deal with them. We are now moving on to the summer! Fun and interesting shenanigans ahead!

Lmao wow. So official with ur jacket in the wag group pic. Bet u begged the other wags for a jacket and to be in the pic.

You look really cute in your jacket! I think you’d look better if you were maybe Steph or Madison’s size though! Other than that, super cute!

OMG you are honestly the most desperate person in the city of Toronto

pls pls pls how can I become a wag

can u give Auston my number 416 555 0123

So…how’s Scotiabank treating you?

For the love of God, sign up for a yoga class girl. Pilates. Start jogging. Something. Nothing about your body is flattering. You can’t tell me Morgan likes all that flab. You were always a calf but you’ve been a cow since Christmas.

You want to make it seem like you’re ‘part of the group’ of WAGs but we can all tell you’re not. They include you to be nice but in reality, they probably don’t even speak to you outside of the arena. To think you are isolating Morgan from his friends and teammates – and for what? So you can have a WAG jacket one year? So you can flaunt in front of everyone? Morgan would be so much better off with someone who doesn’t leech off of him and who doesn’t reek of desperation.

***

Bee didn’t know how she survived all the way up to game six. It was a back and forth between the Leafs and the Bruins and she didn’t know how she was going to handle this game, with the Leafs being able to eliminate the Bruins if they won. The Leafs won game three, even though at 6:15pm that same Monday, it came down that Naz had been suspended for the rest of the series – however long that was. The boys were angry, but they tried not to let it show. That Wednesday, they lost 6-4. Morgan got two assists that night but they still couldn’t capitalize. In Boston for game five, the Leafs won 2-1, with Morgan getting another assist on Kappy’s goal. Now, with game six about to start, she was jittery. She even felt hot in the jacket but couldn’t bear to take it off.

She was praying for an Easter miracle.

Once everyone settled back into their seats after the singing of the anthems by Martina, her leg couldn’t stop bobbing up and down. It was Aryne who had to lay her hand on Bee’s thigh to get her to stop. “Are you nervous or something?” she asked sarcastically.

“How have you done this for almost ten years?” Bee asked. “I don’t know if I can handle it.”

“You’re going to be okay. You get used to it,” Aryne said. “Besides, this is actually only the fourth time John’s made the playoffs.”

“What? Really?”

Aryne nodded her head. “When we went to Sochi it was much more nerve-wracking. But that’s besides the point. You need to calm down.”

“So if they win this, they face the Columbus Blue Jackets, because the Blue Jackets swept the Tampa Bay Lightning,” Bee listed off, remembering the look of the bracket in her head.

“Exactly.”

“Could we beat the Blue Jackets? Like in a series?”

“In a heartbeat.”

Bee’s chest tightened. “So…like…we could really do this.”

Aryne nodded her head. “Really really. But we can’t think about that right now. We need to focus on beating the Bruins.”

Morgan opened the scoring. It happened about ten minutes into the first period, a one timer from the blue line thanks to Willy keeping it in the Bruins zone, and Bee erupted from her seat with the crowd to scream and cheer for him, even high-fiving a man and his son who were seated in front of her. She looked up at the jumbrotron to see him fist-bumping with the bench before they replayed the goal. Her heart fluttered in her chest knowing that he had opened the scoring in such a big game, motivating the rest of the team.

That didn’t last long though. Brad Marchand scored less than two minutes later, and another goal by Krug ended the first period. DeBrusk, still playing even though there were rumours that he had a concussion, scored in the second period. Auston scored in the third period and tried to rally the team to tie it. Late in the game, Morgan and Jake DeBrusk got into a little…scuffle on the ice, and DeBrusk pushed Morgan’s helmet off. There was an exchange of words, a little pushing and shoving, and Bee couldn’t bear it.

“PUNCH HIM IN THE FACE!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, surprising even herself at the ferocity and volume of her demand. She stood up in her seat to watch the aftermath and the replays on the jumbotron. Surely an opponent pulling off the helmet of another player would result in a penalty? “WHAT FUCKING BULLSHIT!” she screamed at the top of her lungs again.

“Bee, there are children present,” Aryne grabbed her hand.

“FUCK YOU DEBRUSK!” she shouted one more time before sitting down, huffing and puffing in anger as they showed a replay yet again. “I guess game two let us all know the Bruins can do whatever the fuck they want and get away with it!” she said loudly, but not as loud as before. She looked at Aryne. “Can you believe this?!”

“Yes Bee, it’s game six of the playoffs,” she giggled slightly. “This is the most I’ve seen you get riled up about hockey ever. I think Mo needs to start getting more physical more often,” she wiggled her eyebrows.

Bee snorted. If only Aryne knew. “I just…nobody’s allowed to touch him. Nobody. I’ll deal with them myself if I have to.”

Unfortunately, the Leafs couldn’t capitalize and Brad Marchand scored again. The final was 4-2. They’d be going back to Boston.

Another game 7.

Bee could see the looks on everyone’s faces as the buzzer rang to signal the end of the game. The girls who had been through this before – Alannah, Lucy, Madison, and others – were not smiling. At all. There was a look of worry mixed with dread on their faces. As fans filed out of the arena, the girls all sat in their places, staring at each other. Nobody got up – Bee didn’t think anyone had the strength to. There was always a lot of media after the games, anyway, so there was no point in leaving when the fans did.

Aryne, forever the optimist, saw the look on Bee’s face. “They can do this, Bee. I know they can,” she said. “We need to stay positive.”

“I know they can. The question is if they will,” Bee mused. “What if they get those awful referees from game two again?”

“They won’t. The NHL will never let them officiate another game again, they were so bad. We need to stay positive. They have all the tools they need. They can beat the Bruins.”

Bee wished she could be as positive.

***

Morgan wasn’t a man of many words when he came out of the locker room. He gave Bee a kiss and said goodbye to everyone before they descended down to the parking garage. Rocco and Clarette had invited them over for an Easter dinner, and that’s where they were supposed to be headed. But Bee could see the dejected look on Morgan’s face and the bags under his eyes. She knew he would probably rather just go home. She knew he was tired, aching, that he now had a flight to catch tomorrow to go into enemy territory.

As they got into the car, she looked over at him and put her hand over his. “I can call Clarette and tell her you’re tired if you want to go home,” Bee said softly. “They’ve been watching. They’ll understand.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Morgan, come on,” she said. “If you want to just go home we can go home. Or I can take the subway up myself and you can go and rest.”

“No no no,” he said, flipping over his hand to hold hers and bring it to his lips to kiss. “We promised them we’d be there for Easter dinner. Clarette’s probably made four different courses. We’re going. I’m okay.”

“Morgan.”

“Briony, I want to take my mind off of hockey right now,” he said, his voice sombre, firm, and resolved. “I want to be around family.”

She couldn’t protest. Not when she heard the tone of his voice, not as he cradled her hand in his against his chest, not as he looked at her with his blue eyes. She couldn’t do it. “Promise me you’ll tell me you want to go the second you want to? Don’t feel obligated to stay longer.”

“I will Bumblebee. I promise,” he said, kissing her hand one last time before pulling out of the parking spot.

When they arrived, it was Rocco who opened the door to greet them. “Mr. Goal Scorer tonight!” he beamed as he hugged Morgan. “Great goal tonight!”

“Thank you,” Morgan smiled.

“And you!” Rocco turned his attention to Bee. “That jacket looks great!” She spun around so he could see the giant Maple Leafs logo on the back and he oohed and awed at it. “Can I buy one too?”

Bee giggled as she showed him the ‘Rielly’ patch on her arm. “You have to start dating Morgan to get one.”

“He’s handsome. That could happen.”

They broke out into a fit of laughter as Sarah Jessica Barker came running towards them, bringing with her Angie, Mason, and Joshua. Morgan bent down to pet her and coo at her while Angie, Mason, and Josh looked on with amused expressions on their faces. “Sorry about the game,” Angie said as Sarah Jessica Barker had enough of Morgan and moved on to Bee.

“What are we having for dinner?” Morgan asked. His way of letting her know he didn’t want to talk about it. Angie got the hint. So did everyone else.

“We’re Italian. We have lamb on Easter,” Rocco informed him.

“We’re also French-Canadian,” Clarette piped up from the kitchen. Morgan couldn’t help but laugh. “We are also French-Canadian and have butter tarts to offset the Italian lamb.”

“That’s what I like to hear, Clarette! Dessert!” Morgan called out to her as she appeared from the kitchen. “I’m sorry we had to push this back so late because of me.”

“Late? What late? It’s barely 7. Italians have dinner at 9pm,” she said, side-eyeing her husband. “But everything is ready, so everyone should go sit at the table.”

***

pls tell ur boyfriend the next game is kind of important and if he could step it up that would be nice

lemme guess…ur going to boston on mo’s dime for game 7? U have a job yet u never work. So lazy.

No matter how hard you try you will never be as pretty as Steph or Cassie. Don’t know why you think you are. Don’t bother.

You know all the other girls are talking about you behind your back, right? Word on the street is you’re the most desperate social climber ever, and when the playoffs are over, you’ll be gone too. On to the next hockey player, slut.

***

Bee didn’t have anymore nail polish on. She had peeled off her shellac from sheer anxiety. Going into the second period, the Bruins were up 2-0, and then John had scored thanks to an assist from Tyler. Going into the third, it was 2-1. The boys could do this. They could do this. They could do this.

Bee decided against getting together with any of the girls. She was too nervous and she didn’t want any of them to see just how worried, panicky, and jumpy she was. She was alone in the apartment and, honestly, right now, she preferred it that way. She could yell at the TV without anyone looking at her. She could yell stupid stuff, stuff that probably didn’t even make sense, and nobody would say anything. She could cry in peace if she wanted to. She also knew that, regardless of the outcome, the boys would be on a flight after the game, coming home in the middle of the night. She wanted to be home for Morgan. Regardless of the outcome.

When the third period started Bee was optimistic. But less than three minutes in, Sean Kuraly scored. 3-1. The boys could still do this. They could come back.

Then Charlie Coyle scored near the end. 4-1. Bee’s chest tightened. That was what the score was during that awful game seven in 2013 before the Bruins came back. Maybe the boys could do the same, with much, much less time.

Patrice Bergeron. An empty-netter. 5-1. The Bruins fans went wild. A waterfall of tears streamed down Bee’s cheeks.

The Toronto Maple Leafs had been eliminated from the playoffs.

Despite her sadness and despite her pain, she kept the TV on. The stupid panellists with their stupid opinions provided background noise for her tears, but she didn’t listen to anything they had to say. Why would she when they were trashing Fred, saying he was incapable of being a “game seven goalie”, whatever the fuck that meant, when just two weeks earlier they were calling him the best goaltender in the world? Why would she when all they did was go over every single little thing the Leafs did wrong? Why would she listen to them completely tear apart and break down a team they all relied on for their hefty paycheques? She wasn’t stupid – she knew how sports media worked. She knew the Leafs provided rating and that their ratings were through the roof because of this – they’d probably be getting some nice bonus cheques. They were all feckless – all of them. They changed their opinions on the fly, whenever it suited them, whenever it got them more ratings and more viewers who ended up adopting their shit opinions. ‘Experts my ass’ Bee thought. Especially that Nik Kypreos guy. What an idiot.

And then Morgan appeared on the screen.

She wanted to scream. Were they actually interviewing him right now? Really?! Not even two minutes after the end of the game and they had paraded him out of the locker room into some hallway to answer asinine questions about another heartbreaking game seven? ‘LET THEM GRIEVE!’ she wanted to shout. ‘LET THEM FUCKING GRIEVE!’ But no. Apparently that was impossible. They wanted every sound bite they could get just so they could talk about it for fifteen minutes afterwards. Because they Leafs were money. That’s all they were to these people – sound bites and ratings and money. They weren’t just hockey players dejected after a loss; they weren’t men who put everything they had into the game, into the entire series, into the entire season; worse yet, they weren’t human beings with complex emotions who didn’t want microphones and cameras shoved in their faces as they dealt with the insurmountable fact that they had let an entire city down. Money.

She looked at him and how dejected he looked, how heavy his breathing was underneath all his gear. She wanted to shatter every plate in their kitchen against a wall in anger. When he was finally released and went back to the locker room, she shed more tears. God knows how many reporters would be waiting for them in there, too.

She just wanted him home. God, all she wanted was for him to come home.

***

When Bee heard the door unlock at almost 2am, she jumped off the couch but stood stoic in her place. She watched as Morgan pushed open the door, lugging himself into his apartment, letting the door close behind him. The first thing he looked for was her. She was all he wanted to see.

“Baby…” she mumbled, running over to him. “Baby, baby, come here.”

She grabbed on and attached herself to him like he was going to float away. He immediately wrapped his arms around her, burying his face into her neck. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around him tightly. Almost absent-mindedly, he walked them over to their bedroom before collapsing on the bed. He didn’t let go. She felt tears on her neck as they lay there, wrapped into each other, and she began running her fingers through his hair and playing with the tufts of hair at the base of his neck, knowing it was soothing for him. It was all she could do; all she knew she could do. There wasn’t anything she could say that would make him feel better. There were no words for this. No words besides “I love you,” which she whispered to him over and over again, for however long she needed to.

***

“We couldn’t do it.”

That’s what Morgan kept repeating.

“We couldn’t do it.”

Bee couldn’t rewrite history. “You couldn’t do it now. But you can and you will. One day.” It was all she could offer.

“We couldn’t do it.”

***

Bee had pre-emptively taken the day off. She didn’t need to worry about work and, quite frankly, didn’t exactly want to right now. She got a text from Mark early that morning. Tell Morgan we were rooting for him all the way. We’re proud of him. He’s one of the only guys who showed up to play the game the entire series.

Bee read the text out to him. He said nothing.

***

Bee only left the bed to make him breakfast – some Greek yogurt with an organic granola mix and some fresh raspberries and sliced bananas. When she brought it to him, still in bed, she saw he was in and out of sleep. She could only imagine he was trying to survive on his last legs of energy by this point. She placed the bowl on the side table before helping him out of his clothes so he could at least be comfortable in his sleep. He moved around absent-mindedly to help her, but she knew he wasn’t there. He probably thought he was hallucinating. When she was finished, she cupped his face in the palm of her hand gently. She’d put the granola mix in the fridge to eat later.

“Y’know what?” he mumbled out suddenly, barely audible or understandable through his fatigue, his eyes cracking open only slightly to look at her.

“What?”

“I wanna take care’f you.”

Bee didn’t understand what he meant. She thought for sure he was dreaming already and in some form of sleep paralysis or lucid dreaming. “What are you talking about?”

“I wanna give you s’much you c’n quit your job n’do s’mthin’ you really love. Cause I love you.”

Bee was completely still as the words escaped his mouth. Before she could come back to, or say anything, she heard his soft snores.

***

It was a few days until Morgan returned to his normal self. Well, semi-normal.

The locker clear out was scheduled for Saturday, April 27th, and because they were leeches who didn’t know when to stop sucking the life out of something, the media was expected there. Mike Babcock would hold a press conference. The summer rumour mill began of who was staying and who was not; who was going to earn these many millions here and who was going to earn those many millions somewhere else. Morgan spoke to the media, as he always did. Off-camera they asked about what he would get up to the entire summer over in Vancouver, since naturally he’d go home. ‘Lots of golfing, probably,’ he’d answered. ‘Dad’s birthday at the beginning of June. Long walks with Maggie where she gets to swim – she loved swimming. She’s queen of the ocean, too. Lots of poolside days. Good wine on the deck. Back to Toronto for the Pride Parade. Fishing trips too, as always. But mostly just stick around home.’

Of course Morgan would go home. He deserved more than anybody to go home to his family, to take in the fresh air of the B.C. coast and rejuvenate himself. He deserved to relax; to kick his feet up and sleep with Maggie in his lap; to take the boat out to Gibsons for oysters or to chase pods of whales again. He deserved to go fishing. Go golfing. Do anything he wanted to do. Isolate himself from the outside world, from hockey. Live through summer on his rules, how he wanted to.

She just wondered how their life in Toronto factored into that.

It was a long flight, from Toronto to Vancouver, and Morgan was meant to relax. She didn’t want him to feel obligated to do anything he didn’t want to do. They had events that they needed to attend together, sure – like Zach’s wedding at the end of June – but she wondered how all that would factor into him taking time for himself. She knew they would work it out, like they always did, but it was four months of summer that needed to be accounted for and planned. There was only so much time she could take off at work – they both knew that. So she’d have to stay in Toronto. She wondered if his schedule would be like how she assumed last summer’s was, when she met him. A bit of time here, a bit of time there, a bit of time anywhere he wanted to be.

When the locker clean out was all said and done, Bee and Morgan sat together in their apartment, her legs draped over his. It was all she thought about on the way home. Since the reporter had asked the question. “What are we going to do this summer?”

“Well, we have Zach’s wedding and--”

“You deserve to go home,” Bee blurted out. She was trying desperately not to let her tears fall. Being without him for long stretches of time was going to be hard – just like it was during the season – but he needed it more than anything. “You deserve to go home and relax for a bit. You’ve had a tough year outside of hockey, too.”

She watched as his brows furrowed at her words. “What was so tough outside of hockey?” he asked.

“Me. The break-in. My mom dying. You didn’t deserve to have to deal with that and--”

He cut her off by giving her a kiss. “Do you mean outside of hockey, when I met the love of my life?”

She couldn’t handle his words. The tears escaped her slowly, and immediately she wiped them away with the backs of her hands. Morgan leaned forward again, capturing her lips in another kiss, and soon, they couldn’t tear themselves away from each other. It was only when they had to break for air that he spoke again. “I am going to go home, Briony. But only for a bit. I’ll be back and forth, but it’ll be okay.”

“You need to take this time to relax,” she stressed, putting her hand on his chest. “You can’t go back and forth all the time. This is your time off.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s nothing that I’m not used to,” he said. “Besides, you know I can’t go too long without seeing you.”

She sighed again. “I can’t go too long without seeing you either. But your priority shouldn’t be me, your priority should be yourself.”

“Hey, you’re always my priority,” he said, grabbing hold on her hand on his chest. “You’re my home now too, Bumblebee. Don’t you ever forget it.”

She internalized his words as much as she could. You’re my home now too, Briony. She never thought she’d hear those words – that someone would consider her home. But of course Morgan did, and Morgan was the one to say it about her. And even though she knew that in her close future she’d be spending more time than she liked alone, she knew that once he came back to her, they’d go back to being themselves, together. “Let’s…let’s take out our calendars.”

“Bumblebee.”

“I want to see when you’ll be gone. I know you’re out in PEI with Dion an the Boys and Girls Club, and I know--”

“Bumblebee--”

“Please Morgan. Just take out your calendar. For me.”

He didn’t fight it. He moved to take his phone out of his pocket and he opened the calendar. “I’m going to see if I can catch a flight to Vancouver mid-week, okay? It can give us a couple of more days together,” he said. Bee nodded her head, cuddling more into him so she could lay her head on his chest, just below his shoulder. “We don’t have much in May. I know you have Alannah’s bachelorette party on the 11th but it’s not like I need to come to that. I can be back in town for the long weekend the following week and stay for a while. But then I want to be back home for dad’s birthday. I want to take him golfing. We always go golfing for his birthday.”

“Of course,” Bee said. She couldn’t help but smile slightly. “Back and forth, back and forth – it’s gonna be like hockey didn’t even stop.”

“What did I tell you?” he smirked, giving her a quick kiss. “I’m gonna miss your cooking.”

“I’m gonna miss you eating all my cooking,” she said. “The apartment is going to feel so empty with you gone.”

“You should get a gerbil.”

She snorted as he wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Don’t tempt me, Morgan Rielly. You’ll come back in May and this place will be a literal zoo.”

“If that’s what you want that’s fine by me,” he mumbled, leaning in to kiss her again, and again, and again. Eventually, he pulled her on to his lap and let his hands wander underneath her shirt. “I’m gonna miss this most,” he mumbled against her lips.

“Me too,” she agreed, her hands cupping his face so she could look at him. He had shaved off his playoff beard, and there was only stubble now. She ran her thumbs along his jawline. “Gonna miss waking up to those baby blues every morning.”

He gave her another kiss. “Gonna miss waking up with my face between your thighs.”

A smile broke out on her face. “You’re a perv.”

“Only for you.”

***

Tick tock tick tock…who is the next hockey player you’re gonna fuck for relevancy?

I bet ur gonna try to get with auston next. Or fred. You’re such a slut

Now is your chance to turn into a hot girl for hot girl summer. Join a gym ffs!!!!!!!!!!

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killian-whump · 5 years

Text

Just some quick responses to @queen-mabs-revenge, because I’m not comfortable leaving those posts without responses.

Behind the cut.

Look, I’ve been trying to not get involved here, but you’re saying you’re not calling @optomisticgirl a bully but I literally just saw a post where you mimed a conversation repeatedly telling “them” to stop bullying and that their “murder board” was scary, after B’s post of the conversion, so I don’t know who else you could be referring to there, and it’s a bit disingenuous to act otherwise. I get that you were trying to make light, but you’re framing very specific things and actions in that satire conversation that are referring to specific posts B has made, so I’m not sure how that can’t be calling B a bully.

For starters, a lot has been said about “this side” and “that side” and a lot of assumptions have been made of those on both “sides”. And let’s be real, everyone who has spoken about this topic has made it abundantly clear which “side” they’re on. So labeling one side “us” and the other side “them” isn’t really doing anything more than acknowledging what we all already know.

And actually, I was NOT referring solely to @optomisticgirl at all with that particular joke (and it WAS a joke. I even mentioned elsewhere, in a response to @thesschesthair that I threw it in there because I found it amusing that they really DO have receipts for everything, probably even my grocery trip last week), but also to @distant-rose, who almost always includes links to posts to back up her statements, and is probably THE most convenient person to bicker with in the entire world because of it. I literally want to pay her to argue on behalf of everyone I ever have an issue with, because it’s so damn handy to just have a link right there to what’s been said before.

I only called it a murder board because of the murder boards in Once. Everybody loves a good murder board, don’t they? I know I do. Again, it was meant to be a little spot of levity in an otherwise crazy situation.

If “the sudden influx of [non-bullying comments, tags or gifs], from multiple parties, seemingly from all sides and feeling never-ending” is now what constitutes bullying...

Lemme stop you there. I’mma let you finish, but I just want to say

Jokes aside, NO. That’s not what constitutes bullying. The snark and gifs started it, yes, and they weren’t very nice, but it built into something far worse and definitely worthy of being called out and stopped. I focused on the initial comment and gifs in my response there because that’s what the particular person I was talking to there took part in. They were FAR from the worst examples of “bullying” that occurred here. FAR from it.

As for your further response to @doodlelolly0910 after she explained to you the depth of the bullying... I mean... Look, I love you like the night is long, but are you seriously trying to say that that ONE thread there is all you’re willing to believe happened? Because that’s shit and you and I both know it, love. Hell, there’s one person I KNOW we both have in common on our dashboards who vagueblogged about it, and I’m willing to bet you saw a few more vagueblogs just like it, same as I did. And, frankly, I KNOW you’re not naive enough to think that what you see publicly in one post is indicative of the worst this fandom has to offer when it gets riled up. I mean, come on now. Even fringe people involved in this debacle (myself and @distant-rose AFAIK, probably everyone, who knows?) have gotten particularly nasty hate asks - I wouldn’t want to be either of the two main characters in this fiasco. I weep for their inboxes. Truly.

Anyway, I hope this doesn’t affect our friendship. I love you, dear, but I gotta stand up for myself.

P.S. Nobody else who’s mentioned/tagged in here needs to feel any obligation to respond or address anything in here. I just don’t like talking about other people (even innocently or in passing) without letting them know I’m doing it.

#fandom drama #responses #queen mabs revenge #not whxmp

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sorceressmidnight · 7 years

Text

Midnight Sorceress

Chapter: 6/? [1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - ?]

Chapter 6: You’re Not Alone

Words: 2925

Warnings: Some cursing, medication and therapy mentions, a heated argument, relapse mention, choking briefly, fighting

Primarily following the events of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, it revolves around an original character.

Description as posted on ao3: A member of SHIELD is forced to struggle with her mental stability and keeping her secret as the craziness surrounding the Avengers crashes around her. She ends up befriending Tony and Pepper, who help out her mental health a great deal, but will they be able to help her with her secret? Something that could destroy her if she uses it too much… What will happen when Tony tries to convince her to use it to help the Avengers?

Read on ao3: here

Tags: @txnystarkimagines @h0bsyrup

Hit me up if you want to be tagged in future chapters.

This chapter happens just before and during Age of Ultron.

“Pep’s gonna flip when she finds out you've been tinkering and making suits again.” Tony groaned under his breath, leaning over and pinching the tip of her nose lightly. “You know it helps with my anxiety.” “So would some pills, or maybe therapy,” Kiana retorted, pushing his hand away and rubbing her nose. “You know I don't have time for that,” he grumbled, going back to his work. “Besides, I'm close to finishing your suit. Would you prefer a whole head mask, just over the eyes, or goggles?” “I'm sure she'd be against that too, only because she probably wouldn't want me fighting either. I guess it doesn't matter… as long as I can see? I guess?” “You're so indecisive,” he pinched her cheeks softly, pouting. “I'm hoping to have it ready by the next time we go on a mission.” “I… I can't go with you guys… I'm not an avenger! Plus!! All superheroes have cool backstories! I'm just… I'm just me!” “... That's what you're concerned about? Seriously? You can spar with both Nat and Clint, you have pretty decent endurance from your martial arts and swimming, and you can literally make a pile of dirt fight for you. But… you're not capable of being a superhero. Right.” The sarcasm in his voice was thick by the end of his little speech. It was an attempt to rile her up, knowing she hated it when he gave her that tone. “I could die, Tony!” “That's what the suit’s for.” “I could still die…” she pouted, crossing her arms. “That's what we're here for. We help keep each other safe. You already have three people who care about you on the team. We wouldn't let anything serious happen. You’d be a huge help to the team… Okay, how about this. Lemme finish up with the suit, and we’ll go from there. Sound fair?” She sighed finally, pinching his cheek. “Fine, but when I say I’m uncomfortable, you back down.” “Don’t worry. I’d never try to push you further than you could go. Besides, most of the stuff I’d be taking you on would be raids, so we’d have an advantage anyway. C’mon, though. Pep wanted to go out for food.”

Kiana pulled the curtain and walked out from the makeshift changing room, standing in front of Tony, Bruce, and Sammy with her arms crossed. She was wearing the suit Tony had made for her, now with a pair of goggles that covered her eyes and wrapped around her the back of her head, an earpiece connected so she could stay in contact with everyone. The goggles were black with the glass tinted a light blue. “Okay. Gavin, tell her about the specs.” “Sure. Would you prefer Miss Mariveil or Kiana?” “Kiki’s fine. You can simplify it. I’ve got a headache and I’m not in the mood for lengthy explanations.” “I can tell. I have been programmed to monitor your health as to make sure nothing is to go wrong during fights. Mr. Stark designed it with leather to be sturdy for fighting with the added technology of increasing the percentage of your powers by roughly fifty percent. In case of emergencies, I can increase the percentage which will allow me to channel your power to create a safer situation for you. This is mostly if you become unconscious or are severely wounded. Your goggles are used to keep communication with the others while out on a mission. I am also able to assist you with how best to maneuver.” “Okay, Gavin, was it? I have a question.” “Of course, what is it?” “Can I call you Ethan? I think that fits your voice better.” “If that’s what you wish, then you can address me as Ethan.” “Whoa! Hey,” Tony butted in, crossing his arms. “I made him. You can’t just go and change his name.” “Sir, I was created for Miss Mariveil. I believe it is up to her to decide what to call me.” “I like him,” Kiana smirked, putting her hands on her hips. “So, I’m guessing we’re going to do one last test run? Since this should be the ‘final’ version?” “I do have a question,” Sammy piped up, “why is limited in the first place?” “After several tests and examination of everything, it has been determined that fifty percent is high enough to use her powers for an extended time with no major repercussions. However, any higher than about fifty-five to sixty percent would make it difficult for Kiki to keep control of her powers. It also is harder to scan the stress on her body the higher the percentage.” “Now we can work on testing this baby out,” Kiana smirked as she looked towards the machine she had been testing her powers on since Tony first made the suit. She lifted her arms and gestured her hands to begin lifting the machine, watching as it started lifting off of the floor until it was about halfway from the floor and the ceiling. She grinned to herself, giving out a happy laugh as she slowly brought it back down. The others quietly stared, waiting to see what she had to say. “I didn’t feel anything, Tony! It felt no different than lifting a pencil!” she shouted, jumping up to hug him. He held her tightly and swung her around, joining her in happy laughter. “That’s great!” he finally let her down, smiling, “Gav--Ethan, stress levels?” “Everything is normal, Mr. Stark.”

“Tony!” Kiana called out as she watched Tony stare into space, making her way down to him. He was staring blankly forward towards what was formerly Loki’s scepter. He shook his head, seeming to come to before reaching his arm out, the glove of his armor coming before he grabbed it. “Are you okay?” she asked, brows raised as she saw something in the corner of her eye. She tried to see what it was, but nothing was there once she did look. He finally turned and faced her, brows knitted together. “I’m fine. Are you?” He ushered her up the stairs and out of the area.

“Hey, Pep! Tony’s throwing a party in a couple of days, are you coming?” Kiki asked, pressing the a button on the side of her goggles as they collapsed down into one ear piece. Pepper raised a brow as she watched the goggles collapse, concern growing on her face. “What is that?” “Huh? Oh, uh… It’s my suit. It’s so I can use my powers without putting too much strain on myself.” “Use?! For what?! Did-” she stopped and grabbed her arms, gesturing over some cuts and scrapes she had received when they went on their mission, “Did Tony make this?! He should know better than to take you out on a mission!” “I-It’s not that bad…” she tried to retort, feeling Pepper grabbing her hand and pulling her towards where she would find Tony. “I don’t care! That’s not the point!” It took a minute or two before they found him, Pepper more furious the longer it took to get to him. He smiled at the two, about to say something before he was cut off. “What the hell is this about?! How could you let her go out on a mission?! She could die, Tony!” “W-whoa, Pep… She was great! She was never alone, I had an eye on her all the time! I would never let anything happen to her!” he tried to reassure her. “That’s not what I’m talking about! She did get hurt! Do you see her arms?! What if this causes her to relapse?!” Her brows furrowed, forcing him to look over the cuts and scrapes. “Pepper,” Tony gently rubbed her shoulders, “nothing happened. How about this? I won’t take her out on another mission.” “You said you wouldn’t be making anymore suits!” she hissed, pushing his hands off of her shoulders. “I’m not going to let you risk Kiki’s life, too!” She grabbed Kiana’s hand, brows knitted together as she turned to walk off. He grabbed her hand before she left out the door, frowning. “Don’t you think isolating her and taking her from her friends will worsen her depression?! Besides, she’s an adult, I think she should be given the chance to choose what she gets to do!” “Ugh! Fine! I’m leaving!” she hissed at Tony, gently holding Kiana’s hands. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me, okay? I’m available any time,” she gave her a tight hug before a soft kiss on her forehead, storming out of the room and slamming the door behind her. Kiana frowned, staring at the floor. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, soft tears forming in her eyes. “Hey, hey… It’s not your fault, okay? You didn’t make Pep leave. It’ll be alright,” he pulled her into a hug, calming her down from the previous tension.

The party began as planned, most showing up around the start of it while others straggled into the tower. Most of them chatting with one another, others at the bar getting a drink, some others just watching the excitement from the comfort of their own little zone. Sammy and Kiana were sitting on a couch together, watching the party go on from off in the corner. “I plan on taking pictures. Everyone’s probably going to act stupid, so I want as much proof as possible to make fun of them with later on,” Kiana smirked, scrolling on her phone as glanced around to see if there was anything picture worthy. “I’m glad you’re here. I barely know anyone and I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone either,” Sammy murmured, taking a sip of her drink. The two chatted as they watched the others, taking pictures and laughing at some of the antics of the others. Tony strolled his way over to the corner, staring down at the two with a brow arched. “What’re you two up to?” “Avoiding social interaction.” “Makes sense for you, but what about you? Are you still upset about what happened with Pep?” His voice softened by his second question. Kiana gave a quick flash of a half-smile and a shrug of her shoulders. “I’m just not fully feeling up for partying. I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed, I guess.” “Hey… it’ll be alright. I’ll make sure of it. If you want to talk, just grab me, okay?” He asked, receiving a nod in response before he rejoined the majority of the party. The party started to slow and eventually ended with just the members of the Avengers, Maria, Rhodey, Helen Cho, Sammy, and Kiana. There became a challenge with some of them in trying to pick up Thor’s Mjolnir, Kiana recording in short bursts as each person tried to lift it, laughter filling the room during the struggles. After Thor saying ‘You’re all not worthy’ and some bickering among everyone, there was a loud screeching that forced everyone to wince and cover their ears, looking around in attempts to find what made the noise.

“Tony, I-... I’m sorry about Jarvis... “ Kiana gently wrapped her arms around Tony’s shoulders, leaning over him slightly as he sat on his chair, hands in his lap. She squeezed softly as she hugged him, knowing how upset he must be. “I…” he balled his hands, nails lightly digging into his fists. “I have to stop him.” “You won’t have to do it alone,” she spoke softly, leaning her head against his gently. He sighed, lifting his arms to hug her back, feeling vulnerable and weak yet comforted by the simple action.

“Just be careful, okay?” came Kiana’s voice to Tony, brows knitted together as she looked around, watching as Tony intercepted Ultron. She watched as the fight began, working to stop the bullets from hitting the others and disarming some of the men that were brought in. She helped from the sidelines, staying out of sight and making it easier for the others to take down the enemies. A hand found its way around her throat, squeezing as she was lifted into the air, being face to face with Ultron now. “Why is it I can’t find any files on you? I would assume Stark would want to keep something on you and that little suit he made, but I can’t find anything,” he spaced the last four words out as he spoke. “Kiki,” she heard Ethan through the earpiece, struggling to keep breathing, “since he’s not human, you can directly use your powers on him. Take advantage of that to get him off of you, then use the railing behind you to get down to the others.” Her brows knitted together, moving her hands and using her powers to pry his hand off of her throat, landing on the walkway below the two. After inhaling deeply for the first time in about thirty seconds, she then threw him through the nearest wall before grabbing onto the railing and bending it to get down onto the lower floor. “Oh jeez,” she murmured, seeing everyone except Clint down. “You can say that again.” “Natasha, I could really use a lullaby.” came Tony’s voice through the headset, causing the two to look at one another. “Well, that’s not gonna happen. Not for a while. The whole team is down, you got no back up here.” Clint responded. “I’m not down! I’m on my way,” Kiana stood up swiftly, ready to rush out. “No, you stay with Barton. He’ll need help getting everybody back to the jet. I’ll meet up with you when I’ve gotten Bruce back.” “He’s right, we should work on that before anyone else shows up. I can carry one person, do you think you could use your powers?” “Yeah. Let’s just get them on something that I can lift.” The two worked together to get two of their teammates on a large sheet of metal they found lying around before taking them back to the jet together. Tony and Bruce eventually rejoined them as they left the area, headed towards a safe house in attempts to stay underground for a while.

#tony stark #original character #tony stark x original character #tony stark x oc #tony stark x reader #iron man #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #avengers #marvel fanfiction #iron man fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #bruce banner #clint barton #pepper potts #age of ultron #ultron

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autumnleavescoffeedreams · 7 years

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Long List of GrayLu Headcanons

I got this little OTP headcanon/survey thing from a variety of places - some from Tumblr, some from Pinterest - so I can’t properly credit one person for this.

Anyway, I was suffering from major GrayLu feels so I decided to write some random GrayLu headcanons via survey. It’s a long post so I added a “keep reading” link. Enjoy!

Who asks weird questions in the middle of the night and who hits them in the face with a pillow?

Lucy, being a writer, has an overactive imagination; so it comes as no surprise to Gray when she wakes him up in the middle of the night asking him how turtles procreate. Gray will give her an answer - sarcastically, of course - and proceed to smack her upside the head with his pillow.

Who worries about what they’ll look like when they get older?

You would think it would be Lucy, but actually Gray frets about it the most. He can already see his features reflecting his father’s more and more with each passing day and, although he’s never told her, Lucy knows that seeing his father in the mirror every day brings back painful memories for him. Sometimes, when Gray is getting ready in the morning looking into the mirror, Lucy will pop out from behind him, wrap her arms around him, and give him little pecks all over his shoulders while murmuring how much she loves him.

Who hogs the blanket?

Lucy for sure. Gray never gets cold so he doesn’t mind when she starts gathering all the blankets on her side of the bed, although he will give her a hard time about it. But Gray doesn’t really mind; it just gives him another excuse to cuddle up next to her at night.

Who is more likely to cry over a sad book or movie?

Both of them can get emotional, but Gray hides it better. If they’re watching a sad movie, Gray will play it off by drawing Lucy to him in an embrace to make her feel better. However, he’s also comforting himself by doing this. Lucy knows but never says anything.

Who talks smack while playing video games?

When it comes to Gray and Lucy, they can both throw down the insults. Lucy will start right off the bat, goading Gray while kicking his ass. It usually takes Gray a couple of losses to get riled up but once he does, he doesn’t stop until he’s won.

Who would enter both of them in to a talent show?

Lucy, definitely! She would do it just to mess with Gray, who would be totally annoyed at first. However, his competitive nature would get the best of him and he would pour his heart and soul into the act so they could win. Sometimes he winds up being more enthusiastic than Lucy.

Who would accidentally set the kitchen on fire while cooking?

Both Lucy and Gray are actually really good cooks... separately. When they try to cook together, they get so caught up in cracking jokes and being goofy that they forget they are cooking until the smoke detector goes off. Then they both panic. “CRAP, WE BURNED THE RICE AND NOW THE STOVE’S ON FIRE!” “PUT IT OUT, GRAY!” “HOW?!” “ARE YOU AN ICE MAGE OR NOT?”

Who would throw the other into the pool?

Gray would never dare to throw Lucy into a pool (he’s too afraid of her retribution). Lucy can’t throw Gray anywhere so instead, when she’s feeling cheekier than usual, she will full-on body tackle her unsuspecting lover into the pool screaming something random like “GET DOWN MR. PRESIDENT”.

Who shops for groceries?

Both of them enjoy shopping for groceries together, mostly because they spend their time making terrible puns with various foods. “Hey Gray, if you were a fruit, you’d be a fine-apple.” “Luce, these eggs look.... eggcellent.” After about an hour-and-a-half of ‘shopping’, they realize they still only have two items in their cart.

Who kills the spiders?

Lucy hates creepy-crawlies so she always makes Gray kill them. Gray once asked her if she’d rather him just toss them outside instead of killing them but she refused. When he asked her why, she replied that she was afraid the bug would go gather his friends and then launch an invasion on their home as retribution. “And you say I’m weird,” Gray had muttered.

Who is the morning/night person?

Lucy is ready to go first thing in the morning but can still be fairly active at night. Gray is a night owl through and through; he loathes having to wake up early. The only thing that can get him out of bed in the morning is the smell of Lucy’s cooking.

Who proposes?

Although Lucy likes being independent, she is also a hopeless romantic and had always dreamed of being proposed to. This suited Gray just fine because he wanted to be the one to ask Lucy anyways. With Loke’s help, Gray took Lucy to the Celestial Spirit World and popped the question while Lyra played a beautiful melody. Lucy was moved to tears and leapt into Gray’s arms excitedly saying, “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Which one cuts the others’ hair?

Cancer usually cuts both Gray’s and Lucy’s hair. However, there was one time when the two decided to let each other cut the other’s hair.... which ended in total disaster. Gray had a Bozo the Clown look going on while each section of Lucy’s hair was completely different lengths. Needless to say, Cancer had to fix their hair and the two of them vowed never to become each other’s hair stylist again.

Which one makes coffee for the other every morning?

Lucy, being the morning person, will usually make the coffee. However, when Lucy is sick or it’s a special occasion (like her birthday) Gray will force himself to get out of bed before her and make the first pot so she can rest.

Which one likes their music on full volume?

Lucy prefers to keep her music quieter, as she usually listens to music when she writes for inspiration. Gray loves his music and prefers blasting it as loudly as he can, sometimes purposefully invoking Lucy’s wrath just to mess with her.

Which one is ticklish?

Lucy is the most ticklish; you could tickle any part of her body and she would laugh. Gray didn’t seem ticklish at all until one day, Lucy accidentally found his weak spot. It’s the bottom of his feet.

Which one sings and which one plays the music?

Both of them sing together, with Lucy singing melody while Gray sings harmony and plays the guitar. One of their favorite songs to sing together is “20 Years” by The Civil Wars.

Which one says “no” right after the other takes a deep breath?

Usually when Lucy takes a deep breath while they’re on a job, she’s about to launch into a ridiculously hair-brained scheme that she believes is 100% foolproof when it isn’t (remember Galuna Island, folks). Since Gray is the only one she’ll listen to, he’s the one who immediately answers “NO” before she can explain.

Who is a fussy eater and who will eat food even if they dropped it on the floor?

Lucy is more of a picky eater than Gray... but then again, Gray will eat anything. He’s not as obsessed with food as Natsu is but he does love Lucy’s cooking. If any bit of food Lucy cooks falls on the floor, Gray will not hesitate to eat it. After Lucy questioned why he would do that, Gray replied nonchalantly “Tastes no different, really” to which Lucy rolled her eyes and said sarcastically “Gee, thanks for the compliment”.

Who has an adorable sneeze & who sneezes so aggressively they pull a muscle?

Much to his dismay, and Lucy’s enjoyment, Gray has a ridiculously cute sneeze. Lucy’s, though, sounds like an sonic boom. She sneezes so hard her muscles jerk reflexively, sometimes accidentally slapping Gray in the process. Her sneeze is so powerful, she’ll occasionally knock herself on her ass. Gray thinks it’s hysterical.

Who has better puppy dog eyes?

Gray has cute puppy dog eyes, but Lucy’s are way better... and she knows it, too. That’s how she manages to get Gray to try things he normally wouldn’t do (like the talent show). She thinks that Gray isn’t on to her little trick but he totally knows; it’s just another one of her quirks he loves.

Who uses their words to fight & who uses their fists?

Gray, as he’s gotten older, prefers to settles fights through verbal exchange; he’ll only fight with his fists if he’s sparring with Natsu. Lucy uses her legs, even when she’s 80 years old.

Who says “I love you” first?

Juvia was constantly making declarations of love to Gray so when Lucy discovered that she had fallen for the ice mage, she decided to wait and let Gray be the first one to say it. Gray took his sweet old time, however, and Lucy thought that she might just have to initiate. Then, one night while they were on a date, Lucy made an adorable laugh that caused Gray to accidentally blurt out, “I love you!” Lucy was shocked for a moment, then gave Gray a quick peck on the lips and said cheekily, “Geez, what took you so long?”

Who makes the puns/shitty references?

They are both equally as guilty when it comes to this; however, Gray makes more puns while Lucy makes the shitty references.

(Fun Fact: Gray’s favorite meme is “Lemme smash” while Lucy’s is Kermit sipping the tea)

Who has the most scars?

It’s actually a tie. One night, Gray and Lucy were trying to compare scars to see who “won” by having the most. When they realized they both had the same amount, the competition escalated to Lucy saying, “Yeah, well I saw myself die!” and then Gray retaliated with, “I did die!” They both paused for a moment then laughed for an hour at how ridiculous they sounded.

On a side note, Gray is proud of his scars as they show everything he’s been through... but he hates seeing Lucy’s scars because it reminds him of everything she’s been through.

Who has the most nightmares?

Lucy’s nightmares are darker and scarier (comes from having an overactive imagination) but they’re not frequent like Gray’s. He's always had them but ever since he started dating Lucy, those awful memories of seeing her battered and broken at the Grand Magic Games or getting severely burned by END’s book will come back to haunt him. They both will wake up from their nightmares, panting and/or weeping, and the other always wakes up to comfort them with soothing words such as “Don’t worry, I’m here” and “We’re safe”.

Who screams during horror movies?

Lucy will freak out and scream at the little suspenseful moments when nothing truly scary happens, making her snuggle into Gray. He will wrap his arm around her and say something like, “Come on, Luce, it’s not real.” Of course, as soon as the real monster shows up, he joins Lucy in cowering behind the blanket. They have yet to make it through a Conjuring movie...

Who is a dog/cat person?

Gray is a dog person. Lucy is a Plue person :)

Who pushes the door when it says “pull”?

Lucy will accidentally push on a door and get frustrated right away. With a snicker, Gray will point out the “PULL” sign on the doorway. Lucy will give a huff and Gray will laugh... and then proceed to do the exact same thing Lucy did.

Who uses all the toilet paper without replacing it & who is left stranded on the toilet?

Gray never remembers to replace the toilet paper when he’s done with it. He’ll be sitting in the living room when he hears Lucy shriek from the bathroom, “DAMMIT GRAY HOW MANY TIMES HAVE WE HAD THIS DISCUSSION?”

Who always forgets to remove their headphones before they stand up?

Gray, every time. Lucy will be making dinner in the kitchen when she hears a loud crashing sound coming from upstairs, followed by Gray’s voice uttering a chain of profanities. With a smirk, Lucy will call out,“Headphones?” to which Gray replies “... Yes” in a sulky tone .

#GrayLu #GraLu #GrayLu headcanon #otp #otp headcanons #fairy tail #gray x lucy #gray fullbuster x lucy heartfilia

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