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abarbaricyalp · 3 years

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Idk if you are still taking prompts, but you know the vine two dudes chilling in a hot tub 5 feet apart cause they're not gay, and a girl quoting it in a park about two girls in the distance and one of them hearing and going "Actually I am gay" Like that scenario, only involving them fixing the boat? Maybe Sarah quoting it to give Sam shit when she thinks Bucky cant hear and Bucky goes "Wait, no I'm gay" or something, or just the general gist of that. Sorry if this us too specific, I've never sent anyone a prompt before :P

Hello Friend! Thank you so much for sending anything in at all! I know the vine you're talking about, but I couldn't find it on Youtube. (I did find a two day rabbit hole of old compilations though) This was also my first foray into writing Sarah as a fully fleshed character! I was excited to get the practice 'cause I had an idea bouncing around in my head about her and Bucky talking after he wakes up in the Wilson house. I kept her a little more like she had been in my other fics pre-show here. I so wish we got a little more of her!

Feel free, anyone, to send me Sambucky prompts!

The North American Superhero in a Domestic Situation

Sarah Wilson loved her brother deeply. The kind of soul crushing love that could only be formed through family, loss, and approximately four thousand brawls around the living room throughout their life. She looked up to her brother more than she could ever imagine looking up to anyone. Even when they were fighting or picking on each other, she couldn’t help but feel a swell in her chest when he came into her line of sight.

That didn’t mean she understood him. In fact, from the age of eight, watching her brother interact with the world had become her go-to pastime. Why did he have to roll every pea around the plate individually before eating them? Why did he and his friends spend seven years socking each other in the arm to prove friendship? Why did he talk to himself in the mirror, even when he knew Sarah or someone else was standing in the doorway?

Sam Wilson was just deeply weird. She had no idea how he had tricked the Avengers, a plethora of bad guys, and half of the media world into thinking he was remotely cool. She saw a news story once that had King T’Challa standing on a platform with Sam and the newscasters talked about how impressive Sam’s suit was. It was unnatural, the effect he had on people.

And in all her years, she never thought she’d see anyone weirder than Sam. But then James Barnes had showed up. It was like a complete reversal of Sam. Sarah was taken in for approximately three hours by his charm and face before she realized he too was deeply, deeply weird.

She justified sitting on the edge of the Paul and Darlene, watching her brother and James Barnes spar off about some dumb trivia fact, by deciding it was an anthropological expedition. The North American Superhero in a Domestic Situation. She watched Sam watch Barnes take a long pull off his beer. She watched Barnes kick his feet up near Sam’s legs and then draw them back quickly when a current jolted the boat. She watched Barnes’ fingers tap-tap-tap against the edge of the boat, inching closer to Sam’s shoulder before he chickened out and brought his hand back to his own lap. She watched Sam suggest Bucky take his jacket off, ‘unless you plan on sun blinding me with the robocop arm.’ She watched Sam look away when Barnes did shrug his jacket off.

When she was seventeen and Sam was fifteen, she had found Sam crying in his room, pillow pressed to his face to muffle the noise. They were at the age where going into each other’s rooms uninvited started international conflicts, but Sarah, who watched her brother intently, felt like she knew what was going on. So she let herself in through their Jack-and-Jill bathroom and shut the door behind her.

Sam didn’t stop crying, not even to yell at her to get out, so she sat on the end of his bed and rolled a baseball under her foot for a while. Finally, she’d said, “You don’t have to tell Mom and Dad, y’know.”

Sam had just about wailed and bit the corner of his pillow to stop himself.

“That’s gross, stop it,” Sarah ordered and pushed Sam’s shoulder back enough to yank his pillow free and then reached over to wipe the tears from his cheeks. “I should make you do the laundry this week so I know I’m not touching your snot germs,” she teased softly.

“How did you know?” Sam hiccuped out. Tears were still brimming at his eyes, but they didn’t fall.

“I’m your older sister. I made you. Like a doll. You think there’s something about you that I don’t know?” she joked. And when the tears did spill over his long lashes, she sighed and pulled him closer to her side. “I just know the way you interact with that boy from the basketball team ain’t just friendly.”

“Jesus, do you think he can tell?” Sam asked and she could hear the mortification in his voice.

“Sam, he’s a freshman in high school. The only thing he knows is that he’s scared of everything too. No one’s paying that much attention to you.”

“Screw you,” Sam muttered.

“What’re all these tears for you if you didn’t make a move and get shot down?”

“God, Sarah, can you not say things like that?”

“Watch your mouth,” Sarah warned with no heat in her voice. “Come on, tell me what’s wrong. I’m not leaving until you do.”

“I just…” Sam sat up and worked his jaw for a while. His chin dimpled and his eyes watered but he managed to control himself. “I’m scared, Sarah. I’m scared of never being in love. Of having to leave if I am. I’m scared to say something and I’m scared not to say something. I’m so scared of...losing any of it.”

“Sam,” Sarah sighed and pulled Sam into another hug. “You’re fifteen. You’re not supposed to be in love yet. You don’t have to think about any of that. You just have to focus on passing Geometry, alright? Mom’ll whoop your ass more for failing than anything else.”

“I have a B+, that’s not failing!” Sam snapped. He kept his face against her shoulder for a second long before he sat up and wiped his tears away. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Who am I gonna tell? I told you, my friends don’t like you as much as you think they do.”

“Your friends like me more than they like you,” Sam shot back and he almost sounded normal.

Sarah smiled softly and patted Sam’s cheek. “I won’t tell Mom or Dad. Of course not. That’s for you to do. But--”

“I’m always going to tell them when you sneak out the window.”

“No! Sam! You can’t! You owe me now!”

“Going to field parties is not the same thing!” Sam said in a shriek as Sarah leaned over to pinch his sides. They grappled for a second before Sam managed to push Sarah off the bed.

“You owe me,” she reminded him as she walked back to the bathroom.

Sam wiped his eyes again and nodded. “Sure, Sarah. I do.”

Sam almost had the same look on his face now. Like there was something he wanted to reach for that he thought was too impossible to hold. The Older Sister Instinct to Antagonize into a Solution kicked in.

“Two bros, chilling on a boat, five feet apart ‘cause they’re not gay,” she sing-songed. Sam looked mortified again but masked his face into something more irritated with a roll of his eyes when Barnes looked over at him.

“Ignore her. It’s this old video--” Sam started.

But Bucky interrupted to say, “Actually I am gay,” as he looked back over at Sarah. “Sorry if I got your hopes up,” he added with a grin that really did get the hopes up.

“What?” Sam asked and Sarah, ever watchful, could see the beer bottle shaking in his hand.

“What?” Bucky repeated innocently.

“He said he’s gay,” Sarah clarified.

“Thank you, Sarah,” Sam ground out. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Bucky snorted. “When would I have said anything? ‘Sorry for ripping your wings off and kicking you off of a hellicarrier, by the way I’m gay.’?”

“You did what?” Sarah asked.

“‘Sorry for claiming I didn’t bomb the UN only to be reverted back to the assassin who would have done that and then fighting you again. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘Thanks for saving my life. Sorry about the giant undersea prison. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘There’s an imminent battle with weird ass space dogs that want to eat our faces. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘Sorry about Tony Stark, whose life I kind of ruined. Lovely funeral. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘I’m in the middle of being pissed at you about the Shield. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘Maybe don’t take me rolling through a field of flowers. It does things to me ‘cause I’m gay.’ ‘John Walker’s fucking insane. I’m gay, but definitely not for this bullshit.’ I mean, come on, Sam.”

“Flowers?” Sarah asked.

“Besides, why would you care? I don’t make it a habit of telling straight guys I’m into guys.”

“You don’t seem to make a habit of telling many people that,” Sarah pointed out. “I googled you. Nothing suggesting that came up.”

Bucky shrugged. “I’m a guy from the 30s. It was trained out of me.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sarah said quickly. “Back up away from that because we’re not gonna try to Oppression Olympics our way through our histories. Did you just say Sam was straight?”

“Sarah!” Sam hissed.

“Sure. I mean, I saw him with Romanov. Hill. He has Tinder on his phone.”

“Samuel Thomas, you better not,” Sarah warned lightly. “You’re better than that.”

“He’s a lady-killer.”

Sarah snorted and had to bring her hand up to her face. “He definitely is not. There has been no lady-killing on his end for a long time.”

“Sarah!” Sam tried again.

“You explain it to him then. Mr. 30s is gonna need the long way round explanation.”

Sam sighed and dragged his hand over his face. “Dammit. Fine. I’m not straight either, alright? I’m...bi, or something. It’s been a while since I’ve had to think about it.”

“What?” Bucky asked, not unlike Sam had.

“He said he’s bisexual. Interested in both parties. Swings either way. Hit a homerun and then hasn’t really swung since.”

“Sarah, Jesus Christ,” Sam groaned.

“What?” Bucky asked again.

“I was engaged. To a man,” Sam said.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bucky asked, clearly missing the irony.

“Oh, it was inconvenient for you but I had plenty of opportunities, huh?” Sam asked. “Ms. Tell-It-All over there wasn’t joking. I haven’t swung any direction in a while. Not since before I met Steve. My fiance died. And then it never came up.”

Bucky blinked at Sam. He kept bringing the bottle halfway up his body and then setting it back on his leg without ever taking a drink. “Fuck, Sam, I’m sorry,” Bucky said, which was not what Sarah was expecting and it clearly wasn’t what Sam was expecting because Sam finally moved closer to Bucky on the bench.

“What for? You didn’t do anything. This time.”

“Yeah, but if I’d known you were into me too, I woulda kissed you in Germany.”

“Oh, I am so not into you,” Sam denied. “And I wouldn’t have our first kiss ruined by immediately running into the government’s roving show monkey.”

“That’s the worst,” Bucky agreed and also finally moved over on the bench until they were pressed thigh to thigh. “Tell me how much you don’t like me again,” he challenged.

“I can’t stand you,” Sam answered and brought his hand up to Bucky’s jaw.

Sarah couldn’t fight down the grin that came to her face and turned to prop her feet on the pier, back to Sam and Bucky. Just this once, she didn’t need to watch her brother to understand him.

Read on AO3 here!

#anonymous #prompts #sambucky #writing #fanfiction #i answer things #sarah wilson #sam wilson #bucky barnes

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heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years

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Storms

ShinoMitsu Week 2021 Day Two: (Storms, Stars, Flowers)

A/N: Okay, so there are no manga spoilers here, but it's the next part of day one. This is also where the modern AU starts. You could read this one and not get manga spoilers but it might be a bit confusing idk. Like I said before, days four through seven are just gonna be out of order events that are purely AU without mention of events in KNY proper so, yeah. Probably your safest bet. Sorry if I’m not making any sense. Hope y’all like it though. Word Count: 4,080

“God damn it,” Shinobu sighed under her breath as she checked fruitlessly through her school bag for an umbrella she already knew wasn’t there. “Slightly overcast my ass.”

Currently, it was pouring buckets while the sky was rumbling and intermittently flashing with distant lightning. Shinobu had stayed late studying in the library, unaware of the storm that had been forming just outside. What had first started as a trickle, had become a full blown downpour and now she was stuck, deciding whether or not to call Kanae to drive her back or brave the eight block sprint and look like a drowned rat.

She took out her phone and finally registered the time, her shoulders slumped. Kanae would still be at work for another hour or so. Shinobu briefly thought of Kanao, but she wasn’t going to make her younger sister walk all the way over here, umbrella or no.

Shinobu shook her head and secured her phone in her bag, then tightened her shoulder strap. It was only a little over a kilometer and a half to her home. She ran laps all the time and calculated with the added weight of her bag and of course, the weather, it would probably take her about ten minutes to get home. Definitely not her fastest, but she couldn’t risk hurting herself before the meet on Friday.

She took a deep breath in through her nose, set her feet to push off the library stoop and—

“Hey, Shinobu-san!”

Shinobu’s hand shot out for the railing, stopping herself mid push off. She voiced her annoyance in a huff of air, before looking up at the sidewalk before her. Standing in the pouring rain was upperclassman Kanroji Mitsuri with a large, bright green umbrella that stung Shinobu’s eyes as well as it mocked her.

“Hello, Kanroji-senpai.” Shinobu greeted just loud enough to be heard over the pounding rain.

Mitsuri grinned brightly and Shinobu groaned inwardly as her senior skipped over in bright pink rain boots. It wasn’t that Shinobu disliked her, Kanroji was just emotional, a bit of an airhead. She acted sweet and familiar with everyone and it got on Shinobu’s nerves. Shinobu just couldn’t picture herself spending any extended period of time with the older girl, but that didn’t stop Kanroji from approaching her more often than not with frivolous chatter.

Mitsuri stopped just in front of her, asking the obvious, “Did you forget your umbrella, Shinobu-san?”

“I would hardly say ‘forgot’ is the right word, Senpai. I watched the weather report this morning. It wasn’t supposed to even sprinkle much less have this torrential downpour occur.” Shinobu bitterly replied. Mitsuri merely giggled at her Kouhai’s brusqueness before motioning her forward with her free hand.

“Come under my umbrella, Shinobu-san. I’ll walk you home, okay?” Mitsuri offered cheerfully.

“That won’t be necessary. I’ve already decided to run for it. Good day, Kanroji-senpai.” Shinobu stubbornly declined. She moved left, attempting to go off on her way, but Kanroji blocked her path, pouting.

“Come on, Shinobu-san. Let me walk you home. You’ll get sick if you run in the rain. How will I be able to cheer for you on Friday if you’re bedridden?” Mitsuri asked, coaxing Shinobu underneath her umbrella again.

“I’ll manage. I live a ways off from here.” Shinobu denied Mitsuri again, her patience running thin. She moved to the right and Mitsuri mirrored her once more.

“That’s alright, I was just out enjoying the weather. I’ve got no other plans and besides, what kind of Senpai would I be if I didn’t help out one of my cute little Kouhai!”

And Shinobu took that personally.

Yes, she was on the short side and wasn’t even a hundred pounds soaking wet, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t kick ass and take names when she wanted to. And she was not cute!

“I don’t need your help.” Shinobu said sharply, making Mitsuri flinch. The younger girl broke left once more and leapt over the stoop to land firmly on the sidewalk, soaking her feet in the large puddle. Shinobu paid it no mind and began jogging home as rain pelted her, quickly wetting her hair and clothes.

She thought that would be the end of it, but then the rain stopped hitting her and light panting could faintly be heard behind her. Shinobu glanced above her, and instead of grey skies, she saw neon green.

“Senpai, what are you doing?”

“Taking you home!” Mitsuri spoke resolutely.

Shinobu turned her head back in the direction she was going, shaking it side to side. Couldn’t Kanroji see she didn’t want her help? Shinobu was well past her threshold for politeness and respect for her senior so she scoffed and picked up her pace.

“You want to take me home then you’ve got to keep up.” She called over her shoulder before kicking up her pace a notch.

“Shinobu-san! Wait up!” Mitsuri whined, jogging after Shinobu with her umbrella arm outstretched, trying to keep up with her junior to keep them both relatively dry.

Shinobu did not wait up, gradually picking up pace, she began leaving Mitsuri behind. But Mitsuri did not give up, evident by the irregular breaths Shinobu heard behind her between rolls of thunder.

They carried on like this for nearly a full kilometer and Shinobu was glad they were the only two crazy enough to be out in this storm because she was sure they must be a sight. She leapt over a pothole in the sidewalk that she usually walked past everyday and was gearing up to run even faster when she heard a big splash and a pained sharp cry that forced her to stop in her tracks.

Turning abruptly, she felt a sharp sting of guilt pull at her chest as she took in Mitsuri laid out on the concrete, completely soaked. The poor girl must not have noticed the damaged sidewalk.

Damn it, why didn’t Shinobu just let the girl walk her home? She shouldn’t have let something so insignificant damage her pride so easily. All Mitsuri ever did was be nice to her, and now look at her.

Shinobu quickly snapped up the umbrella before it could be blown away and crouched over Mitsuri, shielding her from the downpour.

Slowly, Mitsuri made it into a sitting position and Shinobu felt exponentially worse seeing how drenched Mitsuri was and her torn tights and bloodied knees. She could tell her senior was tearing up too, this was a totally avoidable disaster.

“I’m so sorry Kanroji-senpai, do you think you can stand up?” Shinobu asked.

“I, I think so,” Mitsuri sniffled, shakily pulling a leg in front of herself.

Shinobu reached out, taking Mitsuri by the bicep in an attempt to help her stand. As soon as she touched her, visions flashed through her mind too fast to discern. She pulled back, looking at her slightly shaking hand.

Whatever had happened, Mitsuri seemed to have had a similar experience, gingerly cupping the spot on her arm Shinobu had touched, an awed expression on her face. They stared at each other for a minute, but Shinobu eventually shook her head and and helped Mitsuri up. Whatever had just happened must have been a fluke, a product of being out in this wild storm, because it didn’t happen again.

“Come on, we’re almost there. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Shinobu softly commanded, guiding Mitsuri forward.

Mitsuri aimed a small, thankful smile at Shinobu that made the younger girl’s ears burn. She shouldn’t be looking at her like that, this had all been her fault after all. Shinobu kept her attention on the street, tightening her hold on the basically useless umbrella as they walked the rest of the way to her home together.

***

Shinobu unlocked the front door and pushed it open with a sigh, “I’m home and I’ve brought company!” She called out before turning her attention back to Mitsuri. “You can hang your jacket there. Leave your boots there and follow me.”

“You have a lovely home Shinobu-san.” Mitsuri complimented, shaking off her jacket. “Are your parents home?”

“Uh no, they’re a usually off on pharmacy business so it’s mostly just my sisters and I.” Shinobu answered, tugging off her soaked socks.

“Oh! I remember your big sister, she was so nice! I haven’t seen her since she graduated. Is she here now?”

“She’s working.” Shinobu answered curtly, focusing on the list in her head of how to best tackle the state of mess they were in.

“Welcome home Nee-san... and guest.” Kanao called softly from further down the hall, observing her sister’s disheveled form curiously.

“Hi, Kanao.” Shinobu greeted, stepping into the main portion of the home with Mitsuri trailing behind her.

“Aw, is this your little sister?” Mitsuri cooed, waving excitedly, “it’s nice to meet you! I’ve seen you at some of Shinobu-san’s cross country and track events in the past. I didn’t realize you two were related!”

Kanao, not purposefully, ignored her, still focusing on Shinobu. “Nee-san, you’re wet.” She stated matterofactly.

“Yes, I know. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready to help you start dinner, alright?”

Kanao nodded and walked away, disappearing around the corner while Shinobu lead Mitsuri in another direction. The older girl squealed.

“Your little sister is so cute, Shinobu-san. I already have five younger siblings but one more wouldn’t hurt if it was Kanao-chan!”

Shinobu merely rolled her eyes and pulled Mitsuri into the bathroom. “Wait here a minute,” Shinobu said before leaving the room.

When she came back, she had a pair of Kanae’s shorts and one of her own oversized track hoodies for Mitsuri to change into, placing them on a clear edge of the sink.

“You can change into these after you shower, use whatever you want, I don’t care... maybe not the white bottle of conditioner, Kanae’s weird about that for some reason.”

“That’s very generous of you, thank you Shinobu-san!” Mitsuri beamed.

Mitsuri was elated. What started out as a failed attempt to chivalrously walk Shinobu home in the rain, had allowed her to be present in the home of one of the people she admired most. After months of trying and trying to get closer to Shinobu, she finally had an opportunity to grow their relationship!

Shinobu nodded in acknowledgment before leaving Mitsuri in the bathroom. Then Mitsuri warmed up the shower and took off her damp uniform, pouting a bit at the sight of her ripped tights and skinned knees.

As Mitsuri immersed herself in the warmth of the water she ran her fingers over where Shinobu had touched her arm and wondered what had happened. There was a connection between her and Shinobu, of that much she was certain. She could tell that her Kouhai had shared the experience as well. She decided that they would definitely have to talk about it soon.

Mitsuri peered over the mixed array of shampoos, conditioners and body wash and picked three. Being mindful to leave the white bottle of conditioner as Shinobu had suggested. She popped the cap of the shampoo and squirted some in her hand and lathered it into her hair. The smell of ginger and lemon grass enveloped her and Mitsuri teetered giddily on her feet as she rubbed the familiar scent into her hair.

Mitsuri finished washing up and dried off, slipping into the clothing Shinobu had provided for her. As she bent down to pick up her wet clothes, she caught a faint whiff of a wisteria scented perfume. She pulled at the front of the giant sweatshirt Shinobu had given her and took a testing smell.

She felt transported to another time as images flashed through her mind once again. She blinked pack to attention as a knock sounded against the bathroom door.

“Kanroji-senpai, are you almost done? I can put your clothes in the wash for you if you slip them out the door.” Shinobu’s muffled voice called.

“Ah! I’m done, I’ll be out in just a second!” Mitsuri called back, hastily grabbing up her clothes before yanking the door open quickly and startling the younger girl.

“No kidding.” Shinobu blinked. “Well then, I’ll put those in the wash for you and you can hang out in the kitchen with Kanao while I get cleaned up. Don’t expect her to be much of a conversationalist though.”

“Okay, thank you again for all of this, Shinobu-san. You’ve been very kind.” Mitsuri smiled.

“Don’t thank me for doing the bare minimum here, okay?” Shinobu sighed, “just go sit down.” Shinobu turned swiftly on her heel and went to the laundry room with rosy cheeks.

Mitsuri hugged the sweatshirt, pulling it closer to her skin to send another little burst of wisteria to her nose, humming pleasantly to herself as she made her way to the kitchen. The delicious smells that guided her made her stomach growl and she realized just how hungry she was.

She took a seat at the kitchen island, shooting Kanao another little wave. The middle schooler hardly looked up, focusing more intently of the vegetables she was cutting. Mitsuri tapped her fingers rhythmically against the table and watched Kanao work. Then, the best idea popped into her head. She had just been presented with an opportunity to learn more about Shinobu through one of her sisters! In an attempt to look casual, Mitsuri leaned over the counter.

“So Kanao-chan, what’s it like having Shinobu-san as a sister?” She asked.

“Good.” Kanao replied simply.

“Ah, good.” Mitsuri deflated a little. She was hoping for a little more, but it was a start.

“Any examples? What makes Shinobu-san good?”

Kanao put her vegetables in a pan lightly drizzled with oil and mixed them as the sizzled.

“Nee-san is clean and orderly. She is good at explaining things and helping people and makes me feel safe.”

It was almost enough to make Mitsuri squee with delight. Kanao made Shinobu sound so princely and put together.

“That’s nice, you must really look up to her then. I hope I can grow to be as close to your sister as you are.”

Kanao nodded slightly, watching the vegetables closely and stirring them up on occasion.

“I’m home! It smells great in here!” A voice called from the front entrance. “Oh? Either Shinobu developed a more colorful fashion sense or we have a guest.”

A few moments later, Kanae emerged from the hall and smiled kindly at Mitsuri, “Hello there, a friend of Shinobu’s perhaps? You look familiar.”

“Hi, yes, I’m Kanroji Mitsuri. I’m a year older than Shinobu, I was a first year when you were a third year.”

“Ah, I remember now! It’s good to see you Kanroji-san. I’d tell you to make yourself at home, but it appears Shinobu has become a better hostess in my absence.” Kanae said, motioning to Mitsuri’s state of dress.

“Oh yes, this! I was walking Shinobu-san home and had a little mishap and got wet.” Mitsuri vaguely explained.

Kanae laughed as she maneuvered around the counter to stand behind Kanao and patted her head, making the younger girl smile just a tiny bit.

“Yes, it’s raining quite terribly out there isn’t it? I could hardly see driving home. You’ll be staying the night won’t you? It’s much too dangerous to be out and about.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose!” Mitsuri shook her head.

“You wouldn’t be, I promise. I insist you stay the night. Do you need to borrow a phone to call your parents?”

“That’s alright, I can text them. Thank you.”

“No problem!”

After a quick back and forth with her mom, she was all set. She only hoped Shinobu wouldn’t mind her staying over. The girl definitely seemed the type to cherish her personal space.

Mitsuri turned her attention back to the two sisters, watching them cook together. She offered up her own hand and joined in on the work easily meshing personalities with Kanae and conversing as they made the food.

It’s nice to see Shinobu bring a friend home.” Kanae smiled. “She usually likes to compartmentalize school, sports, and her home life and doesn’t tolerate much mixing.”

“It was kind of my fault.” Mitsuri said sheepishly. “I didn’t give her much choice in the matter. I wanted to get to know her better but instead I face planted in the sidewalk. I think she would have liked to be left alone.”

“Trust me, if Shinobu thought you deserved to be left out there she wouldn’t have even turned around as bad as that may sound. Shinobu is strict and grumpy, but can also be very kind and gentle. She knows how to push people to be better but also knows when they are struggling and need a softer touch. She’s a pretty good judge of character too so she must think highly of you. Don’t worry about it too much, okay?” Kanae explained.

Mitsuri smiled and nodded, looking into her cup of water as her head spun with the eldest Kochou’s words. Shinobu thought she was good!

“Welcome home, Nee-san.” Shinobu appeared from the hallway and made Mitsuri jump in her seat.

“Shinobu, I love your friend! You should invite Mitsuri-chan over more often!” Kanae said, setting out the food.

Shinobu ruffled her hair with the towel she had draped over her shoulders and made a noncommittal noise that made her sister giggle. Mitsuri barely registered what was going on around her, too busy admiring the disarray of Shinobu’s usually perfectly made hair and how Mitsuri could see the toned shape of Shinobu’s legs through her leggings and how cute she looked in that oversized cross country hoodie that seemed to swallow her up. It was all a stark contrast to how she presented herself at school and Mitsuri wanted to burn the image into her mind forever.

The four girls sat together and ate dinner. Kanae and Mitsuri held up most of the conversation but it was light and comfortable. Mitsuri nearly swooned when Shinobu filled her plate with second and third helpings for her, cutting off her internal dilemma before it really started.

Then they cleaned everything up and as the thunder crashed especially loud and the rain tapped furiously on the windows, the girls sat around the living room and worked on their homework. Shinobu had already finished hers while she was at the library so she paged through some enrichment texts about botany and medicine. Occasionally helping Kanao with her homework before diving right back into her book.

Mitsuri was beyond impressed with Shinobu’s academic mind. She knew the girl was smart, but reading such heavy texts for fun? Mitsuri was amazed! She was a good student herself, often surprising her more shallow peers with her knowledge and skill, but Shinobu was definitely on another level. It made Mitsuri a bit envious of Kanao, being able to check in with Shinobu whenever she had a question. Mitsuri looked back down at her biology homework before flicking her eyes back to Shinobu lounging on the couch with her book. Maybe...

“Shinobu-san?” Mitsuri tentatively asked. “Do you think you could check my work on this?”

“We’re in different years, Kanroji-senpai. I don’t know what you’re learning.” Shinobu said, not unkindly.

“I’m sure you already understand it. You seem to love the sciences Shinobu-san. Take a look, please?” Mitsuri tilted her head and batted her eyes.

Shinobu seemed to mull it over and then marked her page. Mitsuri golf clapped and bounced in her seat as the Kouhai walked over and sat next to her at the table, peering at her work. A small, pleased smile worked its way on Shinobu’s face as she realized that she new the material and it made Mitsuri smile in turn.

Shinobu looked through Mitsuri’s work and helped correct a few minor mistakes, but otherwise her work was spot on. Which Mitsuri found a tad unfortunate since Shinobu would get closer and bump arms with her and the wisteria scent would swirl through her head whenever she noticed an error.

Before long, all homework was completed and they watched a little tv before deciding they needed to turn in for the night and get ready for school the next day.

“Shinobu, you should help Mitsuri-chan make sure her knees didn’t get any debris stuck in them from that nasty tumble I heard about. I’ll set up the extra futon in your room while you do that.” Kanae said, already walking off before her sister could interject.

“Fine.” Shinobu muttered anyway, leading Mitsuri back to the bathroom and motioning her to sit up on the sink so she could better see the grazed knees.

The shower had already cleaned them off well enough, but a bit of antibacterial spray wouldn’t hurt. Shinobu took the spray from the cupboard and showed it to Mitsuri.

“You’re knees look clean, but if you want me to give them a spray of this, I can.”

Mitsuri was a bit wary. The spray was sure to sting, but being cared for by Shinobu like this made her heart flutter pleasantly.

“I wouldn’t mind a spray, thank you.”

“Sure.” Shinobu shrugged, popping the cap and spraying both of Mitsuri’s knees without a second thought.

“Ow!” Mitsuri whined. The spray really did sting.

“Sorry, I probably should have warned you.” Shinobu said, looking genuinely contrite. “Here, let me just—“ Shinobu cut herself off, blowing a gentle breeze over Mitsuri’s knees, cooling the stinging sensation.

Mitsuri was suddenly brought back to another memory that felt like it was not quite all her own. Her hand cupped in another’s as a gentle wind blew over scraped knuckles, the scent of wisteria growing stronger for a moment before she blinked and was back in Shinobu’s bathroom again.

After a moment Shinobu cleared her throat and returned to her full height, capping the spray and putting it back in its place.

“Well, better get to bed now I guess.” She said, hardly waiting for Mitsuri to follow her to her room. They said goodnight to Kanae and Kanao before shutting themselves in.

Mitsuri watched Shinobu climb into her futon, mouth slightly agape. She could hardly believe the girl wanted to go to sleep right now with all the weird visions they were experiencing. She simply had to voice this now.

“Shinobu-san, don’t you think we should talk about these weird visions we’ve been having? I can tell, you see them too, don’t you?”

“I don’t think it’s anything significant. Just hope they aren’t hallucinations brought on by being out in the rain too long. I’d hate to be sick.” Shinobu said, curling up in her futon.

“But— it’s so specific! It’s got to be more than that, right?” Mitsuri said in return.

“I don’t believe so.”

Mitsuri couldn’t believe Shinobu was ready to dismiss this all so quickly, she looked down at the hoodie she was wearing and got an idea.

“These shorts aren’t yours, but this is your sweatshirt though, isn’t it Shinobu-san?”

“Yeah.” Shinobu answered, peering up at Mitsuri inquisitively.

“You know how I can tell?”

“Because it says track and field across the front?” Shinobu asked with a bit of sass.

“No!” Mitsuri crossed her arms, “It’s because it has this wisteria scent to it when I smelled it, I had another one of those visions! I think we have a real connection Shinobu-san!”

“Hm.” Was all Shinobu could bring herself to say on the matter which made Mitsuri frown cutely.

“Shinobu-san, don’t you want to try to figure this out?”

“Not particularly. I honestly don’t think there is anything to figure out,” Shinobu flipped over, snuggling further into her covers, “I’d like to go to sleep now, I’ve got early morning practice tomorrow. Good night, Kanroji-senpai.”

“You should call me Mitsuri now. Your sisters picked it up so easily! I won’t go to bed until I hear you say it!” Mitsuri huffed, expecting Shinobu to try to hold out all night but was very surprised.

“Go to bed, Mitsuri.” Shinobu’s muffled voice called from under the covers, making Mitsuri squee with unrestrained joy.

“This is great! Hey, can I call you Shinobu-chan now maybe? Hm?”

“I don’t care.”

“Okay Shinobu-chan, prepare yourself because starting tomorrow, I’m going to figure out what this connection we have between us is!”

Mitsuri didn’t get another reply, but she didn’t mind. She snuggled into her futon and closed her eyes, thanking the quieting storm for giving her this opportunity.

#shinomitsuweek2021 #shinomitsu #shinobu kochou #shinobu kocho #mitsuri kanroji #demon slayer #kny #au

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lemonprick · 3 years

Text

every now and then don't you just start thinking about heroes of olympus and the reason why it's so unsatisfying continuity-wise as a sequel to percy jackson is that the small steps taken to dismantle the system of gods using children to fight in their wars are not acknowledged in the main narrative, and the mention of calypso and the very minor inclusion of kids from cabins other than the olympians don't do much to carry it on for another series

maybe it's just me but, pjo is kinda a tragedy? the fact that twelve year olds are forced onto quests to help a world they didn't choose to be born into, growing up seeing everyone around them fall before they got to reach adulthood, and having absolutely no choice in this narrative because either side they choose they're going to die no matter what

percy trading immortality for a normal life for all the demigods, his asking literal gods for basic human rights of not dying, at the end of the last olympian sets such a great potential for sequel exploring how things start to change in the demigod world; a hopeful tone to establish that although the world is broken we can change it no matter how little the steps we take

then hoo comes along and we're supposed to believe that despite fighting for five years, losing people along the way, turning down frickin' immortality, the highest honour the gods could give, just for a chance that those he loves and others that will take their place can live a better life, percy gets kidnapped and is ripped from everything he held dear and loses his memories and is transported to another camp, is forced onto another quest along with

a) four teenagers who are new to this demigod thing and haven't experienced the manipulation of the gods as much as he has (sure, they recognise the unfairness of the lives the gods have given them, but their points of view don't seem to show as much resentment towards them as much as percy is likely to have harboured)

b) a new roman praetor who, despite losing his memories, is raised in a culture where discipline and duty is prioritised, where the gods are to be treated with utmost respect and hence is numb to obeying their whims

c) his literal soulmate who has fought by his side through thick and thin, who had to endure eight months of his disappearance without a single clue as to where he could've been as well as a goddess for a mother who would disown her if she ever chose him over obeying her mother's commands,

he doesn't refuse to go? nor does he go on the quest out of reluctance and protectiveness over these children who don't know any better, and along the way doesn't begin to question whose side he actually wants to be on, now that the gods have dismissed his plea without so much as an excuse, and showing the others that maybe the gods aren't worth fighting for?

it doesn't show me a war-weary percy, not just feral and terrifying to watch on the battlefield, but absolutely refuses for him or anyone else to return there. the percy in hoo isn't one who curses out the gods, who is only forced aboard the argo ii after he sees jason, piper, leo, frank and hazel and is reminded of bianca, zoe, lee, beckendorf, michael, silena, ethan, luke, and those from kronos' army that he barely recognised from his first years at camp and decides he won't let that happen again, not ever. it doesn't tell me how he feels a pang in his heart whenever they can only do what the gods say because they don't know what else to do, and convinces them (and himself) that there's a way to make them listen, by going against what they stand for and resisting until they look us in the eye

idk man, there's a ton of things i'm not huge on about hoo, but how percy (and annabeth!) out of the seven approached the quest wasn't exactly my favourite. and how it ended without acknowledging things around here need to be changed or else. maybe it has been addressed in a later book like in toa, which i don't plan on reading, and if so i stand corrected

it's weird since i haven't read either series in so long but I was suddenly hit with feels this afternoon and wrote this post in a. frenzy after coming across this post on my dashboard

#pjo #hoo #percy jackson #rick riordan

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hieludoboi · 4 years

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Okay okay hear me out,,, Todoroki x a nb!reader,,, He finally actually confessed to them and the reader is just like cannot accept that Todoroki Shouto actually likes them. They're in total disbelief

A/n- Reader’s just standing there like “Me? Oh. That’s right, who else here is named Y/n” and Shouto’s kinda just standing there like ‘....’

A/n- Also! Just the thought of Pro Hero Todo getting like a scone or something sweet every morning before a patrol (I headcanon Shouto liking sweets, just idk, something about it just works for me) and slowly falling for the baker at his favorite bakery

A/n- I did a little research for how to write non-binary readers and such, and I feel like it’s kinda difficult to write for them unless specifics are given! Some non-binary individuals are masculine, other’s are feminine, some go by they/them, some by she/her or sometimes by zie/zim. I didn’t feel like it was right for me to write for these individuals specifically until I do a bit more research and learn to properly write for them!

A/n- Non-binary is a blanket term encompassing a whole list of genders/identities that don’t exactly follow societal gender norms! Sometimes non-binary individuals have gendered pronouns, sometimes they don’t! Since you didn’t specify I’m going to label this as a more gender neutral thing!

A/n- Update, I researched like two hours and I still don’t understand. My brain very fried no work from online classes brainrot but not by bokuto by staring at screen all dy. Someone pls give my pigeon brain examples on how to properly write for nb! readers rn or I’ll pull out the glock >:(

Pairing- Pro Hero! Shouto / Gn! Reader

Summary- So he was serious?

Warnings- not really?

It was a mundane Tuesday morning. The sun had yet to rise, slowly peaking over the city’s skyline, yet somehow getting lost among all the trees and towers. As with every morning, Y/n started off their day by preparing for their day. A quick shower, followed by washing their face and brushing their teeth. Before they knew it, they were trudging out of the house and making their way to the bakery to prepare for the morning rush.

Y/n was quirkless in a society plagued by quirks, an average day to day citizen if you will. They didn’t mind, in fact, life even seemed a bit easier when they didn’t have to worry about controlling some strange and odd power. The rest of the world, however, couldn’t begin to fathom how they even managed to lead a life without a quirk.

Stifling a yawn, they made their way to the front door, unlocking it before closing it and locking it behind them. If the day went as planned, which normally it didn’t, they’d have scones, muffins, and croissants all out and freshly baked by six. Bear claws, donuts, and danish pastries would be out by eight, all the rolls and loafs would be done by ten and by eleven they could hopefully get started on the sugary sweets that their younger costumers seemed to enjoy so much.

Their morning dragged on as usual. One by one the rest of the employees pooled into the back kitchen, kneading dough and making batters to pour in to tins or mold into shape. Grunting, Y/n picked up a tray chocked full of scones and made their way towards the display cases, setting the tray atop the display and carefully arranging the scones inside. Looking up at the pretty light blue clock, Y/n hummed. Their day rarely went as planned, but they could always count on Shouto coming in once the clock hit six-thirty.

“Waiting on Mr. Pro-Hero?” Y/n turned around, feeling the heat begin to seize the apples of their cheeks. Sputtering, Y/n turned around, ignoring their coworker and instead focusing on arranging the last of the scones.

“Come onnnnnn! How are you so oblivious!” Y/n huffed, quickly standing up before thrusting the empty tray into Hina, their coworker’s, hands. “Y/n. He likes you!!” Hina groaned, following a wordless Y/n back into the kitchen.

“Hina. No he doesn’t!!” Y/n mocked Hina as they slid a tray of muffins into the oven. Hina grunted, pulling out a giant bowl of risen dough before letting it fall onto a flowered counter top. “Besides, he’s rumored to be dating Creati,” Y/n pointed out, dusting their hands off on their apron.

“They’re just ru-” Hina rubbed her temples, watching as Y/n made their way towards the front at the sound of the little bell ringing. When would they stop being so oblivious?

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

Nothing seemed to go right that morning. While on his usual morning patrols, Shouto had run into Momo. While it was a welcome surprise, the situation was not. They had run into each other while battling a lowlife villain with a disastrous quirk. Damages were not kept to a minimum, and all Shouto wanted to do after being chewed out by local authorities was to go bite into a delicious scone at his favorite bakery.

“This could have gone better,” Momo sighed, rubbing her temples as they both surveyed the damage they had done to the small plaza. Shouto nodded, he couldn’t agree more. “We should probably go out west, right? If there were robberies here, there’s bound to be some in the shopping centre,” Shouto nodded, Momo had some nice ideas.

“We can stop by a bakery there too, I know a place that makes some nice scones,” Shouto explained as they walked, a subtle smile on his face at the thought of the baker that awaited him every morning. “What time is it?” SHouto asked, turning to look at Momo.

“Oh, it’s around seven-thirty, why?” This morning could not have gone any worse for Shouto. First, he has to stop villains at the crack of dawn, and now he’s going to miss out on scones? Admittedly, they didn’t sell fast, but the bakery didn’t make a lot of them either.

“No reason,” Shouto shrugged. He hoped he wouldn’t miss Y/n.

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

Y/n sighed, watching as the seconds ticked by on the clock overhead. It was eight already. Shouto was never late, ever. The man had a thing for punctuality, and even when everything was going wrong, Y/n could always count on seeing their favorite customer before the sun fully rose.

“Pretty boy ain’t here yet?” Y/n stood up, turning to look at the smug grin on their co-worker’s face. Curling their lip and rolling their eyes, Y/n went back to slouching over the counter, resting their chin on their palm as they zoned in on the glass door ahead of them. “C’mon boss! Cheer up, we’ll never make any sales with a grumpy face up front!” Y/n frowned seemed to become deeper, rooting itself in their brows and lips.

“And I suppose having a super buff woman who looks like she can pop your head off with a squeeze of her biceps at the counter will allure customers like nothing ever could?” Y/n teased, grinning as Hina flexed her biceps.

“Children adore me. They see me and are amazed by the ‘big muscle woman’,” Hina gloated, wiggling her eyebrows while continuing to pose behind the counter.

“Yeah yeah, go help Kohaku before he breaks an arm trying to knead the dough,” Y/n grumbled, pushing Hina into the kitchen so they could focus on the sales upfront. Kohaku liked decorating cakes, but every once in a while he’d have to knead dough while Hina helped Y/n arrange things up front.

Picking at their nails for a minute or so with boredom, Y/n’s head instantly popped up as soon as the bell on the glass door chirped. Their eyes instantly attatched themselves to the blue suit before them, almost completely ignoring the red latex that stood beside it.

“Shou! I was starting to think you’d... never get here,” Y/n’s voice was filled with excitement at first, immediately dying off at the sight of Creati, who stood right next to him. Offering the pro hero a pleasant smile, Y/n grabbed their gloves and tray, their tongs hanging off a little hook on the display case.

“What can I get for you two?” Y/n asked, the bright smile that usually reached their eyes seeming to drown before it could fully rise. Shouto frowned a bit to himself, wondering where the usually happy and bright baker he had grown so used to had gone. Was he maybe reading too into it?

“Oh! I’ll a pumpkin walnut muffin! They look so good!” Momo praised, delicately pointing to her preferred muffin through the glass case.

“Thank you, made the recipe myse-”

“And we baked them!” Y/n winced at Hina’s booming voice, opening their eyes as soon as it died out.

“Sorry about that, you’ll come to find that this bakery comes alive after a certain hour,” Y/n explained with a giggle, placing the muffin on the tray they held. “And you, Shouto?” Y/n asked, tilting their head a bit as they awaited his answer.

“The usual,” Shouto made sure to offer them a grin, shoving his hands into the pockets of his suit as he watched Y/n set the tray on the counter.

“Lucky you, I made sure to save one just for you!” Y/n hummed happily, reaching for the last scone before placing it on the tray. Shouto could feel the shy smile subtly spreading on his face, did they really save on just for him?

“I’ll pay, it’s the least I can do after you helped me out earlier today,” Momo said, turning to give Shouto a smile.

“Right, thank you, Momo,” Shouto gratefully accepted his scone, waving goodbye to Momo as she left the shop. Shouto preferred to eat his scones at the shop anyway.

“Are you not joining me today?” Shouto looked up, a confused look on his face as he watched Y/n fidget behind the counter. They would always snack on a danish pastry and sit with Shouto before he had to leave again. It was routine at this point.

“Oh! Right, sorry,” Y/n muttered sheepishly, snagging a pastry from the display case before heading over to Shouto’s usual spot by the window. For the umpteenth time that day, Shouto could feel himself frowning. He wondered what was wrong.

“S-so you and Creati?” Y/n asked, taking a small bite from the sweet bread that sat in their hands. Shouto looked up, eyes widened in surprise, midway through a bite of his scone. Was that what this was about?

“She helped me stop some villains this morning, that was all,” Shouto explained. Y/n hummed, nodding their head as they started to pick at the jam filled sweet in front of them. “Oh, uhm...” Shouto mumbled, his brow furrowed as he began to search his pockets. Where had he left it?

“You okay, Shou?” Y/n giggled, amused by the way his face had contorted when he began to search for his little mystery item.

“Yeah, fine... Oh! Found it,” Shouto muttered, pulling out the small box that had resided in his pocket since the day prior. “Here, for you,” Shouto mumbled bashfully, sliding the velvet box across the table to Y/n.

“For me? Shou... That’s sweet, but you didn’t have to,” Y/n explained, gently sliding the box back to Shouto. Accepting gifts felt odd, especially if they were from Shouto. They could already imagine what ridiculously expensive gift sat inside.

“Please, open it?” Shouto asked, sliding the box back across and making sure to set it in Y/n’s hands this time. Y/n gasped, eyes wide as they felt the heat rush to their face. Open and closing their mouth in a flustered fit, Y/n finally decided to delicately pry open the box, eyes tripling in size at the sight of the gold chain anklet studded in pearls that sat in the box.

“Shouto... No, I can’t accept this,” Y/n insisted, shaking their head profusely, shutting the box and trying to put it back in Shouto’s hands.

“You can, and you will. Can we go out sometime?” Y/n could feel their jaw drop to the floor. First the anklet and now he’s just asking for a date like it’s a regular Tuesday?

“M-me?” Y/n asked, looking around the shop, the confusion settling in their eyes, locking their mind in some sort of fuzzy haze.

“Yes, so, will you?” Shouto asked once more, amused by their cute little reaction.

“Uh, sure... Sure...”

“Cool. I’ll pick you up at seven,”

“But we don’t close untill-”

“THEY’LL BE READY BY 4!”

“Hina-”

“I SAID YOU’LL BE READY BY FOUR DAMNIT!”

“I’ll be ready by four!”

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 3 years

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what did you think of the new taskmaster episode?

i think I'm losing my enjoyment of this show. since s9 in my opinion it's gone downhill. idk if it's the cast, the tasks (covid restrictions, and just running out of them), the switch to channel 4, or that im watching these series live (i watched s1-9 just on catchup), but i don't find it as funny. makes me sad, and I don't know if I'm alone in this or not

I haven’t seen it yet. I just got home after being out all day, and I’m downloading it now. I am planning to take my time watching it and write down all my thoughts while that happened, so those will go up on here later.

I’m very, very excited for this new episode and this new season. I think they have a fantastic lineup. It’ll be my first time going into a Taskmaster season already knowing most of the contestants, and I like them all.

Having said that, I’ll admit I’m almost a little nervous about starting this season because the lineup is so good, meaning expectations are so high. Taskmaster came out of the gate with an amazing concept, and I do feel like they have us five near perfect seasons starting from the beginning. Six faltered a little, still very funny but it made me wonder if the format had started to run its course and couldn’t recapture its old magic (I didn’t watched them as they first aired, but I did watch them in order). But then we got to season seven, which felt very different from the first five but was very good in its own way. Eight was still good but not great, making me think maybe the format had run its course and season seven was just an anomaly that went a different way.

But I do think season nine completely recaptured the magic of the first five seasons, proving that it can be done. Having watched all of it many times, I think season nine is my second favourite season overall, only after four. I think what it took to get that good again was five comedians who were great individually, but more importantly who had great chemistry with each other (and who all had great chemistry with each other – I think you could pick just about any two of those five people and I could describe something interesting about the relationship between them), and two or more people who were really really competitive so they could clash with each other over that. I think that’s the magic formula, or at least part of it. Along with inventive tasks that leave room for contestants to interpret them in interesting ways, good banter from Greg and Alex with contestants and each other, and all kinds of other stuff that I can’t define exactly and that’s why I’m not a genius comedy writer creating hit shows for Dave/Channel 4/wherever.

I enjoyed season ten, as I’ve enjoyed all seasons, but it did feel different and I wouldn’t say it recaptured the original magic. I agree that the distancing made things a little stilted. I think off-camera distancing might have made a difference in addition to the on-camera distancing. I think it’s good when the contestants get to know each other and develop relationships that can translate into their studio interactions. I assume there’s less of that during COVID.

I enjoyed season eleven much more than season ten; I felt like it was a very, very good collection of television episodes, but I don’t feel drawn to re-watch it all the time they way I do with seasons 1-9. Although that might just be because it came out more recently. It’s possible that it’ll be on my re-watch rotation in a few months, when it’s become more of a part of Taskmaster history.

So I don’t know what’s going to happen with season twelve. Taskmaster set a ridiculously high bar with how good its first bunch of seasons were and how good its concept is, and season twelve has set a ridiculously high bar with how good its lineup is. So I’m actually trying to remind myself to temper my expectations a bit as I go into this first episode, because it almost isn’t possible for it to live up to its potential, and I don’t want to be disappointed.

Anyway, those are my thoughts as I go into the episode. For my thoughts about the episode... there are ten minutes left in the download (internet is slow where I am right now), so I'll be able to start putting those thoughts together soon.

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bentbliley · 3 years

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i would just like to say that i’m a big fan of galactic man but there isn’t a lot of lore behind the toy(s) and since i’m probably the most knowledgeable person on the lore of galactic man who didn’t actually write the toy bios, i figured i’d compile my research into one place. i might also put an addendum w/ the short bts history of the original galactic man toy (which would also include a bit of tandy, radio shack, transformers, and transformers generations selects history) but for now, here’s my research into the lore of galactic man. if you just want the blurb of lore, scroll down until you see a bolder paragraph.

#long post #hyperfixation #fantasy firearms

ok so this is practically headcanon but there’s no canon so i’m just piecing together what i can from backs of boxes and 2 product catalog listings but here’s what i believe to be the story of galactic man.

id: the original galactic man, a monotone cycloptic robot w/ a bulky chest, a red eye on a hexagon head, and a gun barrel for a left hand. end id.

so let’s start w/ galactic man, he’s a metallic humanoid who can manipulate parts of his body to become weaponry. his three weapon modes are handheld laser gun for assisting in one-on-one battles, vulcan base destroyer to keep evil enemies from conquering the universe, and anti aircraft gun for protecting his outpost on an alien planet.

id: the back of galactic man’s box. the first galactic man logo is at the top and fades down from green to blue. a subtitle describes him as an “electronic space robot slash gun.” then 4 pictures of his 4 modes are shown. clockwise starting w/ top left, they are robot, hand gun, anti aircraft gun, and vulcan base destroyer. 5 bullet points under the pictures that describe the features of the toy. “twist and turn galactic man to create three menacing-looking galactic weapons,” ”anti-aircraft gun protect’s galactic man’s outpost from attacking invaders,” “vulcan base destroyer helps you keep your evil enemies from conquering the universe,” “handheld laser gun lets you battle one-on-one in thrilling space duels,” “exciting rapid-fire and long-beam sound effects with pulsating light for super galactic action.” end id

this product catalog tells us a little more about galactic man. not much but just enough. there’s a mystery as to whether he’s a man or machine implying that he is human sized and shrinks for the handgun mode and that other inhabitants of this universe don’t know either.

id: black and white high contrast print ad for galactic man. only his robot mode can be seen. the text that’s important to this post: “is he a man or machine? twist and turn to create an anti-aircraft gun, vulcan base destroyer or laser gun. exciting sound effects. seven inches tall.” end id.

so w/ all this, we can tell pretty clearly that galactic man is in an outpost on an alien planet and that the aliens who are trying to attack the outpost are called vulcans.

now, i can hear you all asking “what about robocop?” so here’s robocop. he was sold in 2 colour schemes, red and silver and then grey. the back of the box says “team up with galactic man” and basically says this is galactic man, not the robot that we associate w/ the name. this in addition to the lack of any mentions of vulcans and the new logo make me believe this is a completely different galactic man unrelated to the vulcan fighting machine or man. there’s a chance he’s like, the second galactic man or galactic man is a group which explains the pallet swap. this galactic man was supposedly released around 1990, a full 5 years after the original hit radio shack shelves, so it kinda makes sense that they wouldn’t be connected.

id: left: red and silver robocop galactic man holding a golden machine gun. right: grey robocop galactic man holding a yellow laser gun. end id

id: the entire left half is robocop’s face w/ a bright red lit up visor. the top right corner has the second galactic man logo. the flavour text reads as follows: “team up with galactic man to defend the universe! he has three mighty weapons to choose from - laser gun, machine gun and light sword. press on if the eight buttons on his back for exciting sound effects!” end id

i did find two other galactic blank toys sold by radio shack that could be related but idk. gonna talk about them anyway.

the galactic walker is probably a knockoff of tomy’s starriors strazor runabout. the logo for the galactic walker is different from either of the galactic man logos, the box doesn’t mention vulcans by name, and it’s totally out of scale as the gold pilot is about the same size as diaclone pilots at the time. i don’t believe the galactic walker is related to either of the galactic mans but i also don’t know if it was released in 1985 or 1990 so it could have been intended to be part of either galactic man toy “lines.”

id: galactic walker in dynatron mode which can best be described as a white robot sauropod w/ blue limbs and an orange cockpit face. end id.

id: side of galactic walker box. six bullet points describe the toy and are as follows: “conquers the enemy four different ways,” “motor power creatures over the toughest terrains,” “durable plastic body,” “leads the fight against evil space monsters,” “provides hours of fun for children of all ages,” “quickly changes into new shape,” end id.

lastly, the galactic space pistol which has a fourth logo style and doesn’t mention vulcans BUT it was released alongside the original galactic man as seen in the full page the earlier print ad came from as seen below. again, neither the box nor the ad mention vulcans, it’s really just by association.

id: blocky white sci-if pistol. missing battery cover on grip. end id.

id: the full page of radio shack ads. end id.

id: side of the galactic space pistol’s box. three bullet points reading: “defend your territory against the aliens,” “red and green pulsating lights flash in unison with the sound,” “rugged, milder design for hours of action.” end id.

so what have we learned today? that tandy really likes reusing the word galactic and they really don’t care because at the end of the day, mass market toys are just meant to take money out from parents’ wallets. the story, if any, is secondary and any comic, cartoon, or book made to go w/ the toys is purely advertising material and tandy didn’t care enough to actually make a story that could be easily found. but i think i can scrounge a quick summary of what the story might be, feel free to chime in w/ your own interpretations but mine is just a rearrangement of the bullet points on the boxes for reader digestibility.

so, galactic man is a mysterious robot who may be human or may just be a simple machine meant to protect the inhabitants of an outpost on an alien planet from the creatures known as vulcans. galactic man can change shape and size to turn into weaponry for the outposters. an anti-aircraft gun for protection from the vulcans’ aerial assault. a handheld pistol for limited space mono e mono (in the english misinterpretation, not the spanish translation). and lastly, a weapon designed specifically to take down vulcan bases of operation. a pistol is also available for the outposters for protection when galactic man isn’t available.

NOTE: i can’t tell what the outposters are. is it an apocalypse setting? are they colonisers? are they scientific researchers? hard to say. could be all three, who knows? do i really want a galactic man comic or cartoon or something? h*ll yes i do. will i write fan fic for galactic man? maybe nebulously in the future when i have time. i know for a fact i definitely want that gens selects galactic man just for my love of all this, i’m debatably the biggest galactic man fan so it’d be weird if i didn’t wanna get it at some point. it’s also the perfect intersection between my love of shapeshifting robot toys and 80s computers as the tandy that owned radio shack at the time is the same tandy that produced computers in the 80s.

#long post #hyperfixation #fantasy firearms

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confused-android · 4 years

Text

Day 13, Todd - Family

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

Amanda: hey, what time are you showing up at mom and dad's on tuesday? (7:02PM)

Todd: For what? Why would I go to their house? (7:05PM)

Amanda: …for hannukah? they sent out the invite three weeks ago, asshole. check your fucking email (7:10PM)

Todd switches apps on his phone and opens his Gmail account. The only things in his inbox are bills and spam. He looks in his spam folder, and even checks his agency account, just in case they had, for some reason, found that email address and sent him an email there.

Nothing.

He searches both accounts for his mom's email address, and finds only the last email she'd sent him, before all of this shit went down. Before he'd told Amanda the truth, and she'd told their parents. Before he was on the FBI's Most Wanted list for almost three months. Before they opened the agency.

From: Debora Brotzman <[email protected]> Date: 4/8/16 2:14 PM To: Todd Brotzman <[email protected]> Subject: Visiting Mandy?

Hey sweetie, it's MOM. Mandy said she's feeling better this week – are you going to visit her? Call me when you get there, if you can! :-) Dad found a place to give him an interview, even with his knee, so send him some love and prayers! :-) I miss you, you're doing great.

Love, MOM <3 (Mandy says this is a heart, but in case you can't tell, imagine I put a heart there!)

He hadn't called her on that visit – all of his attention was taken up by Dirk, and it felt weirdly vulnerable to call his mother in front of some weird stranger. After that visit to Amanda, he'd been a little too busy to call her during the Patrick Spring case, and then he was afraid calling her would be trackable, and would bring the FBI down on his and Farah's heads. And since getting back to Seattle… Well, he's tried calling his parents a few times, and sent them an email over the high holidays, but they haven't responded.

He knows why, but it's just been easier to pretend that they were busy, to let Amanda send him occasional messages when she visited home, to imagine that they just… hadn't gotten around to responding to his lengthy apology email.

That strategy doesn't seem to be possible, here.

Todd: No email. (7:43PM)

Amanda: you sure? (7:44PM)

Todd: Yeah. (7:46PM)

Amanda doesn't respond and Todd slumps back into the couch, rubbing a hand over his face. This was… this was utterly predictable. He knew this was coming as far back as Amanda's first Pararibulitis attack, and this is what he knew would happen if they ever found out, and he can't pretend that they're just busy any more. He hasn't been invited home for the family Hanukkah celebration. He's not family any more.

This is the natural consequences of his actions, and he isn't even sure if he deserves to feel miserable.

Fuck.

Why does this suck so much? It's not like he was close with them, anyway. Not for a lack of effort on his parents' behalf, of course. That last email from his mom is typical. Just that it's hard to want to spend time with people you hurt, you're hurting, even if they don't know it. He kept hanging with Amanda because she needed him, and he needed to keep trying to make up for how shitty he was, but there was no way that he could ever save up enough to pay his parents back for years of – of stealing from and lying to them. So spending time with them, talking to them beyond occasional five minute phone call and a yearly awkward hanukkah gathering, never really happened.

Does this even matter? Should it matter?

Of course it matters. It's a punishment from his parents, for being awful to them. He's supposed to feel like shit.

Well, that's successful, then.

Dirk and Farah are out at some kind of trivia night thing, and Todd is honestly kind of relieved. He's not sure if he can handle them right now. Not in a bad way. Just that, Farah wants to be comforting but isn't ever really sure how, and Dirk is sure that he knows how to be comforting but rarely succeeds, and Todd always has to pretend that he feels very comforted by whichever of them has drawn the short straw to hang out with him when he's miserable, and he doesn't really feel like pretending right now.

His phone dings.

Amanda: i texted mom. (8:12PM)

Todd: …? (8:14PM)

Amanda: she said it wasn't an accident (8:20PM)

Todd: I figured *shrug emoji* (8:22PM)

Amanda: i feel kind of weird about this, tbh? (8:24PM)

Amanda: like, i'm still pissed at you, but you know that, and we're working on it (8:24PM)

Amanda: and i told mom that and she said that you emailed her for yk and apologized and that she didn't respond (8:24PM)

Amanda: and that sounds shitty of her? (8:25PM)

Amanda: but also you were shitty (8:26PM)

Amanda: like, really shitty (8:26PM)

Todd: I know that. I was shitty. And she doesn't have to respond to me. (8:27PM)

Amanda: it just feels weird bc she's our mom (8:31PM)

Todd: Yeah. (8:32PM)

Todd: I'm… having some feelings about it. (8:32PM)

Amanda: well i guess i'm proud of you for having feelings? idk (8:33PM)

Amanda: do you want me to not go? (8:37PM)

Todd: No! (8:37PM)

Todd: No, no. Go spend Hanukkah with mom and dad. I'm bummed, but I'll be fine. (8:37PM)

Todd: I'll try emailing them again next Yom Kippur, I guess. That always seemed to mean something to dad. (8:39PM)

Amanda: that could work (8:40PM)

Amanda: idk (8:40PM)

Todd: I don't know either, if it helps. This sucks, but I knew it was coming, I guess. (8:42PM)

Amanda: :/ (8:45PM)

Todd: :/ (8:46PM)

Todd drops his phone on the coffee table and stands up, shoves his hands through his hair, and sits right back down. Then he stands up again, because while he has no idea what to do with himself, he at least wants to not know what to do somewhere other than the couch. He looks in the fridge without taking anything out of it, contemplates and rejects the idea of a shower, and then grabs the pipe and lighter from his dresser and climbs out the kitchen window and on to the fire escape. He leans up against the side of the building and shivers as a gust of December air hits his neck and seeps in through the fabric of his hoodie.

"Fuck," he says, voice lost in the night, and cups the bowl in one hand and lights it with the other. He takes a long inhale. The smoke floods his lungs and he tops it off with clean, cold air, then holds the breath for a beat before exhaling. He lets the smoke drift away and sits with the scent lingering in his nose before taking a second hit, and then a third. He taps the ash out through the grate next to him, shoves the pipe and lighter back into his hoodie pocket, and thumps his head back against the brick.

It's hard to not feel like a complete piece of shit when your parents have disowned you. Like, the people who are supposed to love and care for you no matter what just don't want to see you for the holidays? That's pretty bad.

He knows that it's not like he doesn't deserve it – he did a horrible thing. Like, a really horrible thing. The kind of thing that gets you disowned by your parents. But it… it really sucks. This whole situation sucks. And it's a situation he made, which means that he sucks.

It's cold outside. Not quite freezing, but not that far above it, either, and his hoodie isn't quite cutting it. He doesn't go inside, though. If he goes inside, he'll check his phone and reread the conversation with Amanda, and have to start thinking about it all over again. So he just stays on the fire escape, buries his chin in the collar of his hoodie, and tries to think about anything other than his parents choosing to ignore him, and not see him for the holidays.

"Fuck," he says again. And that seems to sum it up.

Todd loses track of how long he spends on the fire escape, but it's long enough that he's not really cold any more, just trembling slightly, when the door to the apartment bangs closed.

"Shit," Dirk swears, his voice drifting through the window. "It's bloody freezing in here."

"The window's open," Farah adds, baffled, and then says, "Todd?"

"Todd!" Dirk echoes, his voice a little louder than hers.

"I'm out –" Todd coughs, then tries again. "I'm out here! Sorry!"

He can hear some bustling and movement from inside, and then a long leg sticks through the open window and taps around, looking for the floor, and is then quickly followed by a body. Dirk steps out of the way for Farah, who is altogether more graceful when exiting the building, and they both look down at him, separate expression of confusion on their faces.

"Why are you out here?" Dirk asks bluntly.

Farah shakes her head and puts on hand on Dirk's shoulder, asks, "how long have you been out here?"

Todd shrugs. "Maybe since nine? I'm not sure. What time is it?"

"It's almost ten," Farah says, and crouches down in front of him. "What the hell, Todd?"

"I'm sorry," he says, too tired to really get riled up, or even defensive. "I didn't know what time it was. I left my phone inside."

"Will you, um. Come inside now?" Farah tries, and looks up at Dirk for back-up. Dirk has a funny expression on his face, though, and steps around both of them. He sinks to the floor next to Todd and wiggles up close, until they're pressed together at the shoulder and hip. "Dirk!" Farah exclaims.

"Come on," Dirk says, and gestures to the floor on the other side of Todd. She opens her mouth like she's going to object again, but then something on Todd's face, or on Dirk's face, seems to speak to her, and she scoots back a bit and tips off her heels and down to sitting. Farah holds still for a long moment, steeling herself with a deep breath, then presses against Todd's other side. The brick at his back and the metal grate under his ass are still cold, but his two best friends are warm on either side of him. For a moment, at least, he feels like he has family.

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

Link to: day one, Farah - Youth day two, Farah - Dance day three, Farah - Gore day four, Farah - GNC fashion day five, Farah - AU day six, Farah - Family (to be written) day seven, Farah - Pride (to be written) day eight, Todd - Youth (to be written) day nine, Todd - Dance (to be written) day ten, Todd - Gore day eleven, Todd - GNC Fashion day twelve, Todd - AU

prompt list

#dghda #dirk gently #DGHDAtober #todd brotzman #family #marijuana use #sad Todd #h/c? i guess?#sorry todd #but you definitely did this to yourself #fanfiction #my fic

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radiojamming · 4 years

Note

Ooh idk if you're into this but maybe some PeterElias? There's a running joke about them marrying and divorcing Multiple Times, I'd love to see what you'd bring to it (fluff, angst, comedy)

OH HELL YES

- - -

They get married in Vegas.

It’s their fifth (sixth, if you count the time with the pop-up chapel-and-cereal-bar in Camden Market, but Elias really doesn’t want to think about that) time getting married, and the Elvis Presley impersonator is none the wiser. He simply gives a little shake of his hips, fluffs up his pompadour, and announces that, “In the name of all that is Viva about Las Vegas,” they’re husband and husband. Then he gives a very impressive hip gyration and Peter nearly dissolves into fog and laughter simultaneously.

They kiss under a neon archway before being set on their way by an electric guitar. Before they go onto their next plan of blowing a sizable portion of the Lukas family fortune at the Luxor, Elias feels Peter take his hand, weaving their fingers together.

“So,” he says, looking out at the sea of lights. “How long will this take, do you reckon?”

Elias almost consults the Eye. Almost.

- - -

Four months, apparently.

Four months until they’re trading barbed insults through a wall of sad fog that keeps manifesting in the corner of Elias’ office at inopportune times. It will appear like a bad magic trick before Elias hears Peter calling him a ‘horrible workaholic’ or ‘a sad little man’ or, worst of all, ‘a fashion-blind capitalist killjoy’.

Elias parries back by gleefully Knowing too much about what Peter’s doing, and deliberately putting obstacles in his way. After two unpleasant instances involving shipping containers, live jaguars, and police presence, Elias finally gets that little envelope he’s been waiting for.

He gives it a skim, not bothering to break the seal. He knows just as much as he Knows.

And he calls his lawyer.

- - -

Honeymoon number seven (Elias is calling the Camden cereal wedding legally-binding at this point) is in a Scottish castle overlooking the moon-blue hills of the Highlands. It’s a lonely, forbidding little nook of an already desolate area that gives tourists, as their travel agent called it, the ‘heebie-jeebies’, which means Peter loves it. He loves it so much that he breaks rank and kisses Elias under the crescent grin of the moon.

When they break the kiss, Elias looks up at Peter, at the silvery fog that clings to his coat like a second coat, at the pale light of his eyes. He smiles, despite himself, and runs his thumb over the inner edge of Peter’s hand. “I didn’t take you for such a romantic,” he says.

“Yes you did,” Peter retorts, without any heat to his words. His smile is tacked on at a slant, like a flag loosely attached to its pole. “You Know me, Elias.”

“Yes,” Elias says. His heart does something very peculiar, and he finds himself drawn to kiss Peter again. He nudges his nose against Peter’s cheek and says. “I Know.”

- - -

Kellie Lucas, Attorney at Law and no relation to other homonymic families, yawns into the speaker. “Hullo?” she mutters.

“Miss Lucas. It’s Elias Bouch--”

“Mhmm. I’ll start the paperwork,” she says, and hangs up.

Elias frowns at the phone before looking at the time on the screen. It’s half three in the morning, and he only just realises that calling her at such a time was probably a bit rude. However, he sees the last text Peter sent (since when does Peter text?) and he feels like it was probably the right thing to do.

He’ll have second thoughts by eight in the morning, he thinks.

- - -

“We’re not going to get married this time.”

“No.”

“I mean it, Elias. I’m not signing anything this time. We’re never doing that again.”

“I agree. Absolutely not.”

“You never even took my last name.”

A sniff. “It’s a bit... regular, don’t you think?”

“You haven’t said that about the name on the bank account.”

“Well, my attorney’s name is Lucas.”

“With a ‘C’.”

“Yes, with a ‘C’. All the same, I think Peter Bouchard sounds lovely.”

“Sounds...”

“Yes?”

“Horrible. Like someone with a stick up their--”

“Well, good thing we aren’t getting married again.”

- - -

Elias goes drinking on the Eighth Divorce.

He’s not usually inclined to do such a thing, but this one stung more than usual. There were many, many unkind words exchanged, and the sense that perhaps-- perhaps Elias had done something wrong. What was the phrase Peter used? So used to prying into the business of others that you can’t mind your own?

Maybe he’s right.

And maybe three bowls of sangria is right.

Not like it does much for him, but it does have some psychosomatically calming effects. He sits in his own--

No, he is not miserable. He’s fine. He doesn’t need Peter and this tug-of-war they’ve been playing with feelings is utterly childish. If he really wants physical contact and a fleeting sense of romance so badly, he can hook up with someone like everyone else does. It may be harder to find someone sensitive to his... ah, unique features, but it isn’t impossible. Mentally, he goes through the list.

Too bloodthirsty. Too controlling. Too prone to destruction. Too... wormy.

Damnit.

By his fourth sangria, he wonders why no one is hitting on him the way they usually do. He knows in this way, he isn’t unattractive. Peter’s belittled his fashion sense, but he’s sure that the sleeves-to-the-elbows rumpled workplace look is still in fashion. And he Knows there are people looking at him, some with more hunger than others.

Then why...

Oh.

He looks down at the little platinum band on his finger, and for the first time in ages, feels a very sharp sensation somewhere near his heart.

- - -

By the Ninth Marriage--the reception of which is in Elias’ office, halfway up his desk with thrown rice being replaced by a knocked-over stack of papers on the quarterly budget--Elias thinks they might have a problem. But then Peter kisses his shoulder and tugs on his tie, then runs a hand through his hair and sets the carefully-moussed sculpting job astray, and Elias Knows something.

He Knows they’ll do this many more times. As many times as it takes.

Because he’s not himself without Peter, and Peter wants to be Alone as much as he wants to be with Elias. They’ll go back and forth; one marriage here, one call to Kellie Lucas there, and another matrimonial miracle some months or years after that.

And Elias Knows that this is what he wants.

#tma #the magnus archives #elias bouchard #peter lukas #lonely eyes

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cynthiaandsamus · 3 years

Text

Custom Toonami Block Week 79 Rundown

Code Geass: Lelouch is establishing the official United States of Fuck Imperialism which is like the UN but actually does stuff, plus he has to deal with the fact that CC’s lost her memory and is acting like a demure slave girl harem choice from a VN. Charles is still trapped in the Human Instrumentality Shadow Realm so everyone figures this is a great time to unify everyone against Britannia. Kallen beats the shit out of Suzaku for being a dick to her all this time and the Knight of Ten is making his rounds because they realize they forgot to give him any buildup and he’s going to be a miniboss later so they have to cram all his being a dick personality into like five minutes while all the Knights of the Round assemble to prepare for an attack on Japan once the National Federation is formed. Llyod and Cecile for some reason enhanced the Guren for Suzaku even though he’s clearly more used to the Lancelot but apparently they enhanced it too much and made it a death machine like the Talgeese in Gundam Wing so Suzaku has to stick with the Lancelot. Looks like the Guren will have to sit and collect dust unless a certain pilot is rescued and then immediately has a convenient upgrade. Amazingly all the countries go along with everything Zero says and give up their militaries and have the Black Knights be the official military of the Federation. I don’t know how that works given that the Black Knights have been struggling to fight off one nation’s military idk how it’s supposed to substitute for a dozen nations’ military but I guess they conscript support and troops from the other nations or something. Charles comes back on the tv after the Federation is formed and is all “Awww what a cute little UN you have, fuck off bro.” which you’d think this’d be the perfect time for him to just out Lelouch as Zero and wreck the Black Knights’ morale but he doesn’t for some reason and they’re just gonna fight. Lelouch is freaking out and knows that having everyone want to murder the Britannian royal family includes Nunally so he calls Suzaku who just straight up goes “Bro cut the crap are you Zero or not?” and after so much plotting and scheming Lelouch just comes right out with it. Suzaki agrees to protect Nunally as long as Lelouch meets him alone at the Kururugi Shrine where this all began.

Inuyasha: This is another one of those Modern Day filler episodes which are always fun. There’s just something about Inuyasha running around in modern Japan being Spider-Man and saving people and catching bank robbers on the way to deliver Kagome’s lunch that’s so thoroughly entertaining. Basically Inuyasha spends this whole episode jittery that everyone’s so chill and ready to relax after Naraku just got away and is probably an inch from death but after a big adventure in the modern era where Kagome is as usual unprepared for her test, he ends up passing out on the bed after insisting a little battle with Naraku wouldn’t exhaust him. It’s a really cute little episode to let everyone bide some time and reflect on the past arc now that we’re starting a new wave of filler before we get to the Band of Seven and Mt. Hakurei stuff.

Yu Yu Hakusho: The first match of the tournament is about to begin and Botan, Shizuru, and Keiko come in with Koenma who is sick of baby jokes and puts on his bishonen disguise to impress everyone. There’s some neat lore about how they gave Koenma the guest team every year to bribe him into not shutting down the tournament without giving him anything of value and how the bloody show of the Dark Tournament pacifies the demons so they kill fewer humans, so that’s cool. Since Yusuke is still passed out, Kuwabara is de facto Captain and decides on simple one on one matches while the other team Captain just kinda roasts an eight of the crowd to see if it’ll wake Yusuke up. Kuwabara’s in the first match versus Prototype Killua, complete with afterimages and yo-yo tricks. They size each other up for a while and Kuwabara shrugs off getting his fucking neck broken surprisingly well while they go back and forth with “Well I can track YOU better” for a while. Togashi really loves his yo-yos of death so those have Kuwabara on the ropes and turn him into a fucking kite ready to slam back down into the arena, so yeah, Kuwabara’s having a rough time of it.

Fate Zero: Waver’s been having strange dreams about Iskandar, and not the ones people usually have about him. So he goes to get a basic history lesson on the historical figure that’s been chilling on his couch for a few weeks and spending all his money on xbox live arcade. They also go through all the ridiculously obvious historical inaccuracies and Iskandar’s just like “idk bro, I’m here so the book must be wrong” which is hilarious because Fate also does this with more modern historical figures that we have pictures of and shit so they basically sit there saying all historians have no idea what they’re talking about and gaslighting the field of history as a whole. On the way back Waver’s upset that Iskandar’s so awesome that it basically takes any effort on his part to win and it won’t be an actual achievement despite the fact that they’ve taken out like… one servant, MAYBE, and most of the other historical figures are equally over the top. But still Iskandar says that if your aspirations are big enough it doesn’t matter how big or small you are, everyone’s tiny in the grand scheme of things and clawing at greatness you can’t truly perceive is what matters. Also Caster and his boy have found the wreck they made of their workshop of dead bodies and are kinda fucked up about it but also ready to fuck up more people because God sucks or some shit. So Caster summons a Bloodborne monster which you think more people would notice and mention during Shirou’s time, like nobody in UBW ever said “Hey remember like seven years ago when a giant Bloodborne monster appeared in the river?” so I’m guessing there’s some kind of perception blocking going on. But yeah everyone’s gonna jump on the Bloodborne Monster next time for the season premiere.

Konosuba: So we pick up where we left off and Kazuma is working off his debt by… killing more toads. Wow this world really is like a video game, we get the same five enemies over and over again. However they’re fucked without Darkness throwing herself into monster orifices looking for a good time so Yunyun has to save them. We already met Yunyun in the OVA so it’s kinda weird to be re-introduced to her here in basically the same way but their relationship is basically like Gai and Kakashi if they only did the lame dorky challenges Kakashi suggested when he’s too lazy to think of a good one. Also there’s a cat now, I don’t think that really comes to anything, just a scene of Megumin going “we have a cat now” and everyone’s like “kay”. Kazuma and Megumin play Naked Chicken to see who can get more naked before the other backs down and end up taking a bath together because they’re both stubborn assholes. Also we get a quick snippet of Yunyun and Megumin’s backstories which you can basically make Yunyun’s the swing scene from Naruto (idk why Yunyun is bring out the Naruto references in me today) and Megumin is stealing bread like Les Miserables in increasingly bizarre and disgusting ways because she’s ridiculously poor or some shit.

Sailor Moon Crystal: So turns out that Usagi and Mamoru BOTH had their shots with the ‘fucks everything up’ sword with a pocketwatch and… the discarded gems of the four knights? Idk how that works given they were humans and also dead but what baffles me more is that both Usagi and Mamoru very obviously did not get hit by the sword but decided to fall down dead and not move for a couple minutes despite their shots very much being blocked and there being no blood. Anyway Queen Metalia has the crystal, bullshit is happening, 1000 years of darkness, you’ve seen Xiaolin Showdown, you know the drill. The remaining four Guardians get a cute little flashback of Usagi saying what she likes about them and then they give up their lives to revive her inside the dark energy blob of Queen Metalia and crystals and lights and shit happens and swords and wands are pulled out of nowhere and you know how a final boss goes, they beat it with the power of believing in themselves and shit like that. Also apparently the only difference between sealing Metalia away and killing her is hitting the giant bullseye on her forehead so yeah, hopefully she’s down for good this time. I don’t want to complain because this show was genre-defining but it’s hard to find things to say about something so generic and milktoast, it’s the Seinfeld problem where there’s been so many more interesting iterations that it’s just kinda “get on with it already” at this point. The only real markedly noticeable thing about it is how plainly and unashamedly it is about being a power fantasy for teen girls, and there’s something to that, harmless power fantasies can be fun but it just feels like the physical mechanics of this kind of progression being “She feels this shit REALLY HARD” is less exciting than some of the alternatives

Durarara!!: It’s the big Masaomi backstory episode and we get the whole deal of how he formed the Yellow Scarves and got into a relationship with Saki because Izaya wanted to orechestrate a gang war because that’s what Izaya does all day is orchestrate gang wars. It’s kind of amazing how many kids in this show are like “I don’t know how it happened but one thing led to another and suddenly I was at the head of one of the largest gangs in the city” like they kinda really yadda yadda over how that actually happens. But anyway Saki gets hurt in the gang war and Kadota’s gang has to save her because Masaomi’s adrenaline wears off at the last second and he can’t try and rush in and save her. I mean Dota’s van got there first anyway so how much he’d have been able to help would be doubtful but he feels bad about not even being able to try and Izaya says that fear and failure of his past will dominate his future actions which is exactly what he’s doing by letting his paranoia and frustration lead him to a war on the Saika army. Dota-chin tells him to face up to it and stop running or live with the shame of lying to Saki but Masomi can’t do that and his shame and determination to reverse the situation leads everyone into chaos as Anri discovers his secret.

#ooc #Toonami #Custom Toonami Block #Code Geass #Inuyasha #Yu Yu Hakusho #Fate Zero #Konosuba #Sailor Moon Crystal #Durarara!!

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sometimeswritingsometimesdying · 4 years

Text

dreaming in gold

aka the one where i vent furiously through my favorite character

a/n: i wrote this after receiving some ~bad news~, and lately i’ve been having a weird relationship with religion, so enjoy? also, i know my experience with religion is not the one everyone has so just know this portrays religion (christianity, more specifically) in a morally-grey/good way since it’s been taken from my own personal experience. Also @ people who know me irl and follow this blog: i told u u didn’t want to see me post my fics. i TOLD u

warnings: death of a parent, implied homophobia (sorta), implied alcohol/drug abuse, lots of religion and religious imagery, illness mentions, blood mention, this is set in what i imagine is the late 80s but idk really u chose

pairing: moceit

wc: 1.8 k

Summary: patton looks for closure and he isn’t sure why

ao3

also thank u @pheonix-inside for beta reading this for me :)

He stood there, in front of the doors, hands jammed into the pockets of his coat and nose scrunched up. It was the middle of january, and the streets were mellow and sad, with few people roaming around them, a sharp, cutting wind accompanying them with each step.

And there, in front of the large, wooden doors, at seven pm tight, stood Patton A. Moore. He Didn't even know why he was doing this. He didn’t have to do this. But he’d gone out for an evening walk, as he’d taken up to doing, and his eyes had fallen on the local church’s doors.

He wasn’t a religious man. Maybe he had been, as a kid, when all it took in his head to talk to Him was a simple “hey, god?”, but he’d given up faith a long time ago, when life got hectic and his mind was clouded.

No, Patton Moore was not a religious man.

He didn’t question it, didn’t question his motive, didn’t question the reason he had felt a draw towards the doors. He was going to walk away and not think twice about it.

“Are you here for mass?” he turned his head to his left, finding a priest opening one of the side doors with a warming smile. “It was over about twenty minutes ago but i’m sure you’ll find what you need anyway.”

Patton looked at the man in silence, about to refuse his offer, but he was shivering slightly out there, and there was a warm lighting coming from inside that door, and beyond whatever reasoning he could give himself- he nodded and thanked Father and walked straight in.

The church was, as most churches he remembered, rather grand. The marble and the gold and the paintings- the statues and the candles and the organ- it all pulled together a rather magnificent scene.

Above it all, the smell hit him most. The old smell of dust and benches and perfume that reminded him of the many afternoons spent with his father, sitting in the very front row of those seats. The light from the streetlamps filtered in through the glass mosaics, casting colorful shadows across the floors.

It was inviting. Loving, almost.

He took a seat in the second to last row, close enough to the doors for a light and chilly wind to nip at his scalp. It seemed to be reminding him of how much he wasn’t meant to be here.

He tapped his feet nervously, staring at the cross that hung in the apses of the church. It was weird. Everything was too familiar and yet too estranged and out of touch for him to understand. He was feeling, feeling something akin to devotion, perhaps. Was this what people described as devotion? A feeling of grandeur and confusion upon such a place? Upon such a scene?

What was there to be devout about when the candles people had so dearly lit up would only be burnt out by the end of the night? Perhaps everything, perhaps nothing. He didn’t know, but then again he hadn’t known as a kid, and perhaps that’s when we learn most about feelings like these.

Soft steps caught his attention as the same priest that had opened the door for him walked down the aisle to his particular row of seats. The man stared at him as he stared at his feet.

“What is it exactly that you’re here for?” Patton shrugged, playing with his wedding ring. It hadn’t been a legal wedding, perhaps. It was, after all, illegal still, but to him it had felt just about real enough. Enough for them, at least. He heard the sliding of Father’s robe as the man slid onto the bench.

“Are you a religious man, son?” Patton blinked. No, he wasn’t. But he was here, wasn’t he? He didn’t own a rosary, but did he believe in god?

Well why else would everything happen? Fate? No, no, not fate, not destiny. Love then-

He shrugged. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Father nodded thoughtfully.

“What about your father?” Patton raised an eyebrow, hoping not to be noticed. “You can tell a lot about a person when you know their father.” Father said, evidently noticing Patton’s skepticism. “Was your father a devout man?”

“He was-” Patton paused, playing with the ring on his finger. “He was, but he was a sinner too.” he stopped and chuckled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. What’s he doing? He’s a thirty year old man sitting in an empty church for the first time in a decade. He wasn’t meant to be here.

And yet.

“He drank. He smoked. All the usual sins, still came to mass.” he tilted his head. “You know?”

Father just looked ahead. He nodded and smiled. “I expect you followed in his footsteps?”

Patton observed him, nervously playing with the golden band on his ring finger. “Yes and no. I didn’t turn out particularly devout-”

“Yet you’re here,” Paton sighed and nodded, moving around in his seat.

“And yet i’m here.” Father tilted his head. “I don’t know- I don’t know why i’m here. Why am I here?” he asked, more to himself and the room than anyone, or anything else.

Father took a while to answer, but the air was just about warming up Patton’s hands and Patton thought nothing of it.

“Sometimes we wander into places asking for answers to questions we don’t know-” the man paused. “That we don’t know we even need to ask.”

They fell into silence after that. The good meter and a half that divided them seemed to only become more and more unrecoverable as time progressed, and as moments turned to seconds and as seconds turned to minutes.

The silence was deafening. It was all too reminiscent of a hospital room and Patton’s hands were getting cold again.

“You- you talk to god, correct?” he asked, through a trembling voice and a whisper.

Father turned to look at him, posture ever so inclined. “In short, yes, but it’s not-”

“Just- tell me one thing,” Patton said, faulting on his usually so polite manners. “Why him?” he took a shuddering breath. “Why him of all people? Why him? And why now of all times?” he chewed on his lip and shrugged, helpless. “Does god have an answer to that? He makes all of this happen,” he paused, looking down at his hands, lying limp in his lap. “doesn’t He?”

He heard no response, he heard no response for a long, long time.

“When did it happen?” A short humorless chuckle escaped him.

“So there is no answer?” No response. He looked up at the ceiling, observing the alfresco that popped out between golden arcs. “This morning. My brother called me.” he shrugged and smiled a sour, bitter smile. “My father he- started feeling ill and coughing up blood and-” he felt his eyes start to water and he could feel his cheeks reddening. “and they- they called an ambulance but there wasn’t much they could do and- and i wasn’t there.”

He shook his head as he felt a tear roll down his face. He wiped at his eyes with his sleeves until Father handed him a handkerchief. He took it, albeit rather reluctantly and held it in his hands, playing with the edge of it. It had him focusing on something, as he tugged on the string and folded and unfolded the piece of cloth.

“I wasn’t there.” he raised his hand to gesticulate and then let it fall. “I wasn’t there. My brother was. I wasn’t.” he shrugged, his voice slowly turning back to normal from the small whisper it had fallen into. “I told him to go to hell eight years ago, and I never looked back. I never spoke to him again.” he took up a sudden interest in the footrest on the bench in front of him, as he avoided eye contact with the only other person in the room. “Sort of ironic that now I'm here of all places, huh?” Patton paused for a moment, took a deep breath. He raised his eyes and looked around him- at the statues and the crosses and the alfrescos and the rows upon rows of empty seats. It was familiar. Old and familiar and all too loving.

Father stared ahead, a conflicted expression on his face.

“You asked me why He would let this happen,” he said, all at once. Patton nodded, although he wasn’t being asked anything. “You asked me why He would let this happen and, in complete honesty, the answer is a rather morbid one.” he paused. “If there is an answer at all, that is.”

“Well then,” Patton smiled tight lipped. “Enlighten me?”

“Perhaps it’s what you needed and He was simply helping you through it,” Patton was about to open his mouth to protest, but Father held up his hand in a stopping motion. “What i mean, is that you’re here now, aren’t you? In a way, you’ve reconnected with your father.” Patton pulled his coat tighter around himself, although his hands were warm. He supposes that he did. Maybe. He wasn’t so sure, but, then again, he wasn’t sure about anything right then and there.

And they shared a silence, then. A silence that was filled with the smell of perfume and benches and old scrolls and a golden lighting that found its way in from outside and the texture of the dark wooden seats. Father smiled at him, that weird, familiar smile that felt all too loving to show to a man like him. The bells rung out.

Eight pm.

He heard a soft “Patton” when he closed the door behind him. It took him longer than normal to take off his coat and his scarf, feeling Janus’s eyes on him as he worked through the motions. He'd always done them in a breeze but lately they felt so heavy.

He turned around, his eyes landing on his husband leaning in the doorway, in all his pajama-pants-and-t-shirt glory. He wasn’t smiling, not a sympathetic or a ‘everything-will-be-alright!’ smile either. He was frowning, the deep kind of frown that made lines appear on his face and his eyes darker.

Patton walked up to him and kissed his cheek. They stood there for a few minutes more, Janus stroking his hand and Patton intently staring at his shoes.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, making Janus snort and shake his head.

“I should be asking you that,” he said, interlocking their fingers. Patton half-smiled at him.

“I’m-I’m,” Patton paused. “I’m something. I went to church,” he added hastily. Janus tilted his head.

“And did that help?” Patton smiled, shaking his head.

He walked past Janus, slipping his other hand into his husband’s and heading to the bedroom. “Let’s just get some sleep.”

He dreamed about something golden.

#sanders sides #ts fic #patton sanders #janus sanders #moceit #does the Father dude count as an oc? idk #hmdfaksfhdaslk there's more of an explanation in the notes on ao3 if u want to but yea #i'm good now dw #death tw #religion tw #blood mention tw #illness tw #hmmmm enjoy yall!!!! and don't give me pity please i really am alright #N writes

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sparrow-flies-south · 4 years

Text

Ten Things [4]

Fandom: Sanders Sides Pairings: Anxceit, Royality Intrulogical Summary: Ten Things I Hate About You AU When Roman Prince learns that Patton Foster isn’t allowed to date until his older brother, Virgil, is, Roman is crushed. Roman’s twin brother Remus, however, comes up with a plan: find someone who is willing to date Virgil. And who better to ask than Janus Verona, who according to rumours is willing to do anything for the right price? Taglist (ask to be added!) @glitchybina @imlikeaghostzombiejesus @someone-idk-is-here @anxiety-ismy-name @ellietempest Warnings: Underage drinking, description of a panic attack, implied references to sexual assault (though it's never outright stated that that's what the character is worrying about) Notes: This is one of the chapters I've been looking forward to writing since I started planning this thing, so I hope you like it!

AO3 Link - Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six

This was a bad idea.

Scratch that, this was a terrible idea, and Virgil was clearly insane for ever agreeing to it.

They were parked outside Brad’s house, or at least, as close to it as they could get - the street was littered with cars. Virgil’s hands were still clutched tight around the steering wheel, and he was trying to keep his breathing even.

“Virgil?” Patton said. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Virgil said.

“Crowds do heighten your anxiety,” Logan observed from the backseat. “Perhaps it would be best if you don’t come with us.”

Virgil shook his head. “I promised Dad I’d keep an eye on you.”

Patton had not asked for permission so much as told Remy that they were going, and they had Virgil with them, and surely Remy trusted Virgil to keep an eye on them. Remy had agreed to let them go with the look of a man who was trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

“Falsehood,” Logan said. “You promised your father you’d keep an eye on Patton. You are under no such obligations to me.”

Virgil rolled his eyes fondly. Perhaps he didn’t have any official responsibility for Logan, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to look out for him. With how much time Logan and Patton spent together, Logan was practically another brother at this point.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Virgil said, getting out of the car before he could change his mind.

Inside turned out to be just as crowded and loud as Virgil had feared. Teens spilled out of rooms, holding drinks and yelling to be heard over the music that was blaring as if this was a club rather than just a house party. In short, it was Virgil’s idea of hell.

“Oh!” Patton shouted. “There’s Roman.”

Virgil tried to look in the direction Patton had indicated, but it was too crowded to make out who Patton was talking about. People were all around them at this point, boxing them in.

Patton grabbed Logan and made his way through the crowd. Virgil watched them go, unsure if he should follow them. He didn’t like the thought of Patton being off by himself somewhere like this, where anything could happen. But he also didn’t want to ruin Patton’s fun by hanging over his like an embarrassing shadow.

He began to move through the crowd, looking for somewhere he could breathe. Logan was with Patton, and Logan wouldn’t let Patton do anything stupid. Virgil would check in on them every now and again, but otherwise leave them alone.

The crush of bodies was making the air thinner. His fingertips were tingling. He spotted a door that looked like a bathroom, and pushed towards it, barely aware of his surroundings. When he reached it, he nearly fell against it in relief.

He tried the handle. Locked. He’d have to find somewhere else.

He needed to get away from the crowd. He couldn’t breathe, and his head felt like it was going to split in two. Maybe there was another bathroom upstairs. He pushed his way towards the hallway, but people were everywhere, pressing in on him, trapping him.

A hand fell on his shoulder, and Virgil swung around. His shoulder buzzed, as if even his cells were trying to escape the sudden touch.

“You made it,” Janus said, a small smile on his face.

Virgil should say something, had to say something, before Janus thought he was a weirdo, but conversation was well out of the window by now. He just stared, as if that would make the world fit back in place. Janus frowned.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

That was something he could answer. He shook his head, tears blurring his vision.

Janus placed a hand around Virgil’s wrist. “Come on.”

Janus moved through the crowd and Virgil staggered behind him. They moved easier now that Janus was leading him, the difference between wading through a swimming pool and fighting against the current of a stormy sea. Janus’ hand stayed firm on Virgil’s wrist, an anchor, stopping them from getting separated.

Cool air hit Virgil face, and the world opened up around him. They were outside, now. Janus led Virgil to a swing bench, and Virgil collapsed onto it. He pulled his knees up tight to his body and buried his face in them.

Even here, in the open air, he still couldn’t breathe.

“Virgil.” Janus’ voice was quiet but firm. “I need you to breathe with me. Is that okay?”

Virgil nodded.

“Is there a breathing exercise you normally use?”

“Four seven eight,” Virgil mumbled into his jeans.

“Okay. We’re going to breathe in for four, okay?”

Janus quietly counted out each step. He didn’t manage to hold for seven the first two times, but Janus didn’t comment, just adjusted his counting and kept going, quietly telling him he was doing well in between each step.

Slowly, the pain in his chest fell away, replaced by an uncomfortable numbness that made his fingertips buzz, and then that, too, faded.

“Fuck,” Virgil muttered.

He really couldn’t go five minutes without a panic attack. And, as if that wasn’t humiliating enough, he’d really just made the boy he liked take him outside and look after him, like he was some little kid.

“It’s okay,” Janus said.

“It’s not. I can’t believe I did that.”

“Yes, how inconsiderate of you to have a panic attack. I’m sure you just love feeling like you’re dying at the most inconvenient times.”

Virgil slowly uncurled himself. It was surprisingly quiet outside. It made the party feel like it was in another world. Virgil was in a new one now, and he and Janus were the only two people in it.

“I’m okay now,” Virgil said.

“Good.” Janus made no attempt to move.

“So you can go,” Virgil clarified. “Enjoy the party. Hope I didn’t ruin it too badly.”

“Watching a bunch of teenagers get belligerently drunk and make terrible decisions does sound like fun,” Janus mused. “But I think I’d rather stay with you.”

Virgil shook his head. “Why?”

“Again with the cynicism,” Janus sighed. “I thought we’d already covered that I want to spend time with you.”

“Ordinarily, maybe,” Virgil said, though he still wasn’t sure why. “But I’m not exactly fun to be around.”

“On the contrary, I’d say you were far better company than any of the imbeciles in there.” Janus looked Virgil in the eyes. “If you’re trying to get me to leave because you don’t want me around, then I will go. But I have a feeling that’s not the case.”

If Janus left, Virgil would be alone. He’d either have to wait outside like a weirdo, or go back inside and act like he wasn’t completely out of place. He didn’t know which option was worse.

“You can stay,” Virgil grumbled.

Janus tilted his head back so he was looking at the sky. In the light from the house, Virgil could only just make out the raised skin of the scar that covered the left side of his face. “How generous of you,” he remarked with a smile.

“I think you should stop for now,” Logan said.

Roman looked over to see that Patton had gotten hold of yet another drink, and was downing it quickly. What was that, his third? Fourth? Either way Logan was probably right.

“It’s fine, Lo!” Patton said when he came up for air. “I feel fine!”

“You’ll probably feel less fine tomorrow,” Remus remarked. Even he looked concerned, which meant that Logan was definitely right.

Roman took the cup out of Patton’s hands and held it out of his reach. Patton pouted and made grabby hands, but Roman refused to be swayed.

“How about we dance for a bit instead?” Roman offered.

The pout instantly disappeared, replaced by the kind of smile that could blind a guy from ten feet away. “Sure!”

They made their way to the living room, which had been turned into an impromptu dance floor, the furniture pushed against the wall to make more space. Patton held Roman’s hand as they went, and Roman tried his hardest to keep calm. He would not swoon just because he was holding hands with a pretty boy.

They found a slightly less crowded spot, and began moving in time with the music. Roman lifted their still joined hands in the air, and Patton spun underneath them.

Patton stumbled as he finished, almost falling into Roman’s chest. He giggled. “Oopsie.”

Roman smiled, though it seemed that dancing might not be the best activity at present, even if it did keep Patton from drinking. He looked around for Logan and Remus, but they must have stayed in the other room.

He turned back to Patton, about to suggest they get some air, only to find Patton was staring at him intently.

Before he could ask what was wrong, Patton stood on his tip-toes and leaned in to kiss him.

Roman wanted to kiss Patton. He really, really did. But he wasn’t going to have their first kiss when Patton was drunk, when he couldn’t tell if this was what Patton really wanted or just a lack of inhibitions.

He took a step back, and pressed his hand against Patton’s shoulder to stop him from closing the gap.

For a moment, Patton just looked confused, and then realisation and hurt rushed in.

“Oh,” Patton squeaked as he took a step back.

Distantly, Roman was aware that the people around them had stopped dancing and were staring. But all he could focus on was the way Patton looked like Roman had just torn his heart of his chest.

“Patton,” Roman began, unsure what to say.

“I’m sorry,” Patton said, tears filling his eyes.

Roman took a step forwards, reaching out to him, but Patton had already turned away. He plunged into the crowd, pulled away from the current.

Roman could only watch, unsure how things had gone so terrible so fast.

“Way out of his league,” someone said, and Roman glared in the direction it had come from.

A group of girls were huddled together, watching. One of them, at least, had the decency to look guilty.

Roman turned away and pushed through the crowd, leaving them behind. Arguing with them would do nothing except waste time. Right now, all that mattered was finding Patton and making it up to him.

***

“How come you were so good at that?” Virgil asked.

“I’m good at many things,” Janus replied, his lips curving into a smug smile. It would be infuriating, if Virgil didn’t secretly think it was cute. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

Virgil gestured towards himself. “That. Most people take way longer to figure out what’s going on.”

Janus turned away. “Panic attacks are awful, aren’t they?”

Virgil was about to ask what that meant, but Janus cut him off. “I will admit this isn’t going completely how I had planned.”

Virgil snorted. “You mean you didn’t plan on wasting your evening out here?”

“I don’t usually plan first dates with the intention of causing the other person to have a panic attack,” Janus clarified.

Virgil’s mouth went dry. So this was a date? He stared at his feet, humiliation hot against his ribcage. So he’d got his wish, only to ruin it so badly there wasn’t going to be another one. That was some kind of monkeys paw bullshit.

“I suppose you’ll have to choose what we do for the next one. It’s clearly one area I’m not skilled in,” Janus continued, and Virgil’s head shot back up.

“Next one?” Virgil echoed.

“First dates are traditionally followed by a second, yes,” Janus said, as if Virgil was the one not making any sense.

Virgil was about to reply when a figure stumbled out of the house and dropped to the ground. A very familiar figure.

“What the fuck,” Virgil hissed.

Janus’ eyes widened, confusion and hurt flickering across his face, but Virgil was already moving, racing across the lawn to where the figure was sat crumpled on the grass.

“Patton?” Virgil asked.

Patton looked up, tears coating his face. He was hugging his cat cardigan tight to his body. Virgil crouched down in front of him, scanning over him. Not injured, thank God, but what the hell had happened?

“Virgil?” Patton asked, voice breaking. “Can- can we go home now?”

Virgil nodded, anxiety crawling up his chest and blocking his throat. What was wrong with him? And where was Logan?

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, Pat. Come on.” He reached out a hand, and helped Patton to his feet. Patton wobbled slightly as he got up, he must be drunk, and Virgil’s mind flashed through a hundred possibilities, each one worse than the last.

Had someone done something to Patton? How was Virgil supposed to ask?

“Is everything alright?” Janus asked, coming over.

Just the sight of someone else, someone who wasn’t panicking, filled Virgil with a sense of relief.

“I- I need to take Patton home,” he said. “But first I need to find Logan. Do you know where he is?”

Patton shook his head. “He was with Remus, I think?”

Remus probably meant Remus Prince, and that just opened up a whole other load of questions.

“Okay,” Virgil said. He’d have to go back inside to look for Logan, but that would mean leaving Patton alone.

“Go,” Janus said quietly. “I’ll look after him.”

Virgil nodded, and squeezed Patton’s arm. “I’ll be right out,” he promised, and headed back into the house.

Inside that crowd pressed upon him immediately, a Virgil felt as if a static cloud was surrounding him, electrifying him. He forced himself to keep moving, keep pushing his way through the room. Why did there have to be so many people? It was just making it harder for him to get back to Patton.

He pushed into the living room, scanning for Logan. Remus Prince seemed like the kind of guy who would be at the centre of attention, but Logan was the complete opposite. Who would win out between them?

A hand grabbed his arm, and a voice shouted “Virgil!”

Virgil spun, and tore his arm away from the boy in front of him, who was dressed in a white t-shirt under a red jacket.

“Have you seen Patton?” the boy shouted. “He ran off- I can’t him.”

Virgil’s hands clenched into fists. There was only one person this boy could be, and it wasn’t someone Virgil wanted to see. “Roman Prince?”

The boy - Roman – nodded.

Virgil put one hand in the centre of the Roman’s chest and shoved, sending him staggering back, almost colliding with a group of dancers.

“I don’t know what you did and you better pray you don’t find out,” Virgil snarled, stalking forwards. Roman’s eyes widened. The dancers had turned to see what was going on, but Virgil didn’t care. There was no room for anything but anger in him now. “Stay the fuck away from my brother.”

He pushed past the stunned Roman, and the crowd parted easily. He left the living room, and entered the dining room, where the crowd became thick like molasses again. Finally, he was able to push his way into the kitchen, where it was easier to breathe.

Logan was stood next to the sink, drink in hand, talking to a boy who was perched on a counter top.

Virgil saw red. He began to march over there to rip Roman away from Logan, until his brain registered that this boy was dressed in a green and black crop top, and was wearing purple eyeshadow. Not Roman. Which meant that this must be Remus.

Remus Prince might not be much better than Roman.

“Hey,” Virgil called as he got near. Logan and Remus both looked over. “I’m taking Patton home.”

Logan frowned, his brow furrowing. “Is he alright?”

Just like that, his anger disappeared, replaced by overwhelming exhaustion. “I don’t know. He came out crying, and I’m pretty sure he’s drunk.”

“Yes, I noticed he was drinking rather quickly.” Logan’s voice sounded even, but Virgil could see the way he tugged at his collar. “I should have tried harder to stop him.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” Remus said, nudging Logan. “Pattycake can make his own decisions. Besides, Roman was with him.” He turned to Virgil. “What happened?”

“Why don’t you ask your brother that,” Virgil spat, and Remus reeled back.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means Roman did something to my brother!”

Remus shook his head. “Roman would never-.”

“Oh, and I’m supposed to trust you on that?”

“Enough!” Logan snapped, stepping between the two of them. “This isn’t helping. Virgil, did Patton say what happened?”

Virgil shook his head, teeth clamped tight together.

“Then there is no point in speculating. Once we know what really happened, we can figure out what to do about it.”

He was right, and Virgil knew it. He forced himself to let out a deep breath. “Fine,” he muttered.

Logan nodded. “I assume you came to let me know you were leaving?”

“Yeah. Are you coming with us?”

“That would just add an unnecessary detour to your journey. I will find my own way home.”

Virgil shot a suspicious glance at Remus. “Are you sure? I don’t like the idea of you getting a lift with someone else. Maybe I could come back and pick you up?”

“Again, it’s appreciated but unnecessary. I have a standing agreement with my mothers that should it be necessary, they will pick me up from anywhere I require.”

Remus leaned closer to Logan. “I’ll stay with you while you wait,” he offered. “By the way, has anyone ever told you you’re hot when you take charge like that?”

Logan shot him an exasperated look, but didn’t object.

That was something to overthink another time. Virgil gave a quick salute to Logan, and then hurried out of the house.

He froze in place outside of the door, because Janus and Patton were gone. There was no sign of them anywhere in the yard. The panic that flooded through him knocked his breath away, and his hands shook as pulled his phone out to call them. There was text from Patton already there; Virgil must have missed the notification.

This is Janus, it read. Patton and I are going to your car to wait for you.

Relief flooded through him, and Virgil took a shaky breath as he rushed to his car. They were fine. He’d drive Patton home, and then everything would fine. And if it wasn’t fine, then Virgil was going to murder Roman Prince.

Janus and Patton were waiting together, Janus looking rather out of place. Patton was still hugging his chest, but he’d stopped crying at least. Virgil was torn between interrogating him about what had happened right there in the street, and putting him straight to bed to sleep it off.

“Logan’s getting a lift from his mother,” Virgil told Patton. He turned to Janus. “Thank you for staying with him.”

“It was a total inconvenience and I expect to be compensated for every second of it,” Janus replied. His face was perfectly deadpan, but Virgil was pretty sure he was kidding. He held out his hand. “Give me your keys, I’ll drive you back.”

Virgil shook his head. “I’m fine, I didn’t drink anything.”

“You’re shaking,” Janus said, and Virgil lifted one hand to see it tremble. “I’ll drive.”

That would just add another way Virgil was bothering Janus. How long until Janus got fed up with him, and decided he never wanted to see him again?

But what if he did drive, and have a panic attack and not be able to control the car and roll off a cliff or something. Sure, there weren’t any cliffs in the area, but it could still happen-

Okay, yeah, maybe Virgil was panicking.

He handed his keys over, and then went to help Patton into the backseat, before getting in the car himself.

It was weird, sitting in the passenger seat of his own car. Janus pulled away from the curb, and Virgil plugged his address into his phone’s GPS. Once he was done, he twisted in his seat to look at Patton.

“You okay, Pat?”

“Dad’s going to kill me,” Patton replied miserably.

“No he’s not,” Virgil assured him. “Dad’s, like, incapable of staying mad at you. He’ll probably just kill me for not keeping an eye on you.”

“If you’re referring to Patton being drunk,” Janus said, “Then your father doesn’t have to know.”

Virgil shook his head. “We don’t lie to each other,” he said firmly.

“So you tell him everything about your life then?” Janus asked. “What are his thoughts on Mr Williams?”

Virgil glared. Remy knew that he didn’t like his English teacher, but that was it. He wasn’t going to add to his father’s worries. Besides it wasn’t like anything would come of it. Mr Williams could do what he wanted.

“That’s not the same thing,” Virgil snapped.

“Isn’t it?” Janus asked. “So long as Patton is okay, which he will be, what good does telling him do?”

“That’s not the point,” Virgil argued, crossing his arms. “Besides, what if he finds out?”

“While that is a risk,” Janus admitted, “It’s a low one. How would your father find out?”

Virgil shook his head. “Whatever,” he muttered. He glanced back at Patton in the rear-view mirror. “We’ll figure it out tomorrow, okay?”

Patton nodded, though he still looked miserable.

They drove through the twisting streets of the town in silence. Several times, Virgil wanted to speak, but each time the words died before they reached his throat. What was he supposed to say?

“Virgil?” Patton asked after a while.

“Yeah?”

“Why is Janus driving your car?”

Virgil’s cheeks inexplicably heated, and Janus laughed.

“That, Patton, is because I have taken a liking to your dear brother,” Janus said. “And so I would rather he didn’t die in a fiery wreck.”

Patton nodded, looking thoughtful. He leaned closer to Virgil’s seat.

“Virgil?” he whispered, or at least, tried to whisper. He apparently didn’t have much control over his volume, so it was more of a stage whisper.

Virgil glanced at Janus, who just looked amused. “What?” he stage whispered back.

“Is Janus the thing?”

Virgil had to be bright red now. Janus raised an eyebrow. “Thing?” he asked.

“Hey, how about some music,” Virgil said loudly, fiddling with his phone.

Janus shook his head at the music that came out through the speakers. “Why am I not surprised this is what you listen to?”

“Because I have excellent taste, duh.” Virgil said.

“Well, then I suppose I should be flattered that you spent your evening with me.”

“Correction: I have excellent taste in music,” Virgil shot back, and Janus smiled.

Virgil shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Seriously, though,” he added. “Thanks. For everything you did tonight. It was pretty cool of you.”

Janus just nodded in response, his attention focused on the road, hands tight around the steering wheel. His expression was unreadable. Had Virgil said something wrong? Had Janus just been taking pity on Virgil and was now trying to figure out a way to gently tell him he wasn’t interested?

“Virgil!” Patton shouted from the back. “You should play this with your band!”

Janus’ mouth twitched. At least now he looked amused. “Band?”

“I don’t have a band,” Virgil said quickly. “Not yet, anyway. Maybe one day.”

“Let me guess: you will be the guitar player.”

Virgil nodded. “That and write music. Not that I’m much good at either.”

This wasn’t something he talked to anyone outside of his family about. It was too embarrassing, too easy to make fun of.

But it didn’t feel embarrassing, in the car with Janus.

“What about you?” Virgil said, changing the subject before he could think too hard about what that meant. “Do you play any instruments?”

“Piano and violin when I was a child,” Janus answered. “My parent’s idea. They claimed that it would be useful for my development. The fact that it gave them another two hours each week away from me had nothing to do with it, I’m sure.”

Virgil had never heard anything about Janus’ parents. In fact, it had never really occurred to him that Janus had parents. It felt as if Janus had just appeared at school one day, fully formed and ready to blackmail people.

Virgil knew what shitty parents were like. His birth parents had been great, but he’d spent enough time in the foster system after they’d died to get the full spectrum of shittiness. He wanted to say something, to commiserate, maybe, but Janus cut him off.

“Oh, look,” he said. “I believe this is your street. Which house is yours?”

“The blue one,” Virgil answered, letting the subject drop. “Just park in the driveway.”

Janus pulled in and turned off the engine.

“Thanks,” Virgil said, unbuckling his seat belt. He paused, hand on the door handle. “Wait, how are you going to get home?”

“I left my bike at the party,” Janus said. “I’ll walk back there and get it.”

Virgil shook his head. “No way. I’ll drive you there.”

“Virgil, the whole point of me doing this was so that you wouldn’t have to drive. It’s fine, I can walk.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” Virgil protested.

“This is hardly a dangerous area.”

“Stay here.”

Janus looked incredulously at him, and Virgil felt his cheeks heat as he realised what he’d just said.

“Stay here,” he continued, forcing his voice steady. “I can drive you back tomorrow.”

“Will your father approve of you having a strange boy over?” Janus asked.

“What was that you said about him not having to know everything?”

Still, Janus looked hesitant.

“If you leave, I’ll just worry,” Virgil said, which was perhaps underhand move but it was still true.

“Fine,” Janus said at last.

Satisfied, Virgil got out of the car. He hovered close to Patton as the three of them went up the driveway, ready in case Patton stumbled.

“We’re back,” Virgil shouted as he pushed open the door.

Upstairs, floorboards creaked. Remy must be moving to greet them.

“Were going straight to bed,” Virgil added hurriedly.

“You better not have done anything I wouldn’t do,” Remy called.

Virgil glanced at Janus, standing next to a red-rimmed Patton. “No,” he called, thinking back to the many cautionary tales he’d heard about Remy’s teenage exploits.

“Alright,” Remy called back, and Virgil breathed a sigh of relief.

Upstairs, Virgil pointed Janus in the direction of his bedroom, and then took Patton to his.

Patton dropped down on the bed, looking like he was going to fall asleep right then and there. Virgil shook his head fondly.

“You need to get out of your clothes,” he said.

“Don’t wanna,” Patton mumbled.

Virgil sighed, but didn’t bother to fight. He sat down next to Patton and began to untie his laces.

“Virge?” Patton mumbled.

“Yeah?” Virgil replied, easing the first shoe off Patton’s foot.

“I tried to kiss Roman.”

Virgil’s throat tightened. “What happened?”

Patton flipped onto his stomach, and buried his face in the pillow. “He didn’t want me.”

Virgil sighed, and pushed Patton onto his side. Rejection wasn’t as bad as some of the things Virgil had imagined, but that didn’t mean Roman Prince could hurt his brother and get away with it.

“Want me to kill him for you?” Virgil offered.

Patton shook his head. “I want him to want me back,” he said, voice breaking.

Yeah, Virgil was definitely going to murder Roman Prince. “If he doesn’t want you, that’s his problem, not yours.”

“Feels like it is mine, though.” Patton covered his face with an arm. “Can today just be over?”

“Pretty sure it is by now,” Virgil commented. He rubbed his hand along Patton’s arm. “Go to sleep, Pat.”

“’Kay,” Patton mumbled, and closed his eyes.

Virgil waited a moment longer, but Patton didn’t move. He was either asleep already, or he just didn’t want to talk.

Virgil stroked Patton’s hair, just like he had that first time, only a few weeks after Virgil had joined the family, when he’d crept into Virgil’s bed after a nightmare. Virgil had felt frozen in place as Patton had curled up beside him. He’d never had a brother before. He’d had no idea what to do or say to make it better, and he’d still been terrified that if he didn’t do the right thing, he’d get kicked out.

Seven years later, and he still didn’t know what to do to make everything okay.

“Love you Pat,” he whispered, then crept to his room.

There was nothing more he could do about Patton tonight. He had a whole other problem to deal with.

The other problem was sat on Virgil’s bed, looking at the posters that covered the walls. Virgil quickly grabbed his pyjamas.

“I’m going to get changed,” he explained. “You can take the bed.”

But when he got back, Janus was lying on the floor, his jacket bundled up to use as a pillow.

“I said you could take the bed,” Virgil said.

“It’s your house,” Janus answered.

Virgil should probably try to fight it, but he was far too tired. He crawled into bed and turned out the light.

Sleep never came easily, and someone else in his room only made it worse. After what felt like hours of staring at the ceiling, he rolled onto his side to look at Janus.

Janus didn’t seem to be asleep either, though Virgil couldn’t see his eyes. He was shivering in just his t-shirt, and it couldn’t be comfortable on the floor.

His bed was a double, there was plenty of room. And it was a hell of a lot warmer than the floor.

Was he really going to this?

“It’s a big bed,” Virgil said, and then rolled onto the other side so he didn’t have to look at Janus. Yep, apparently he was doing this.

“I mean, you could stay on one side and I could stay on the other. We wouldn’t even notice the other was there.”

There was silence, and Virgil felt like he was going to combust from the awkwardness. Great, now Janus probably thought he was a weirdo or a pervert or something.

There was the rustling of covers, and Virgil shut his eyes. He hardly dared breathe, but then realised that probably made him look like even more of a creep, so he tried to adjust his breathing. What the hell was a normal amount to breathe?

He felt the mattress dip as Janus got in next to him. He forced himself not to react, as if a cute boy crawling into his bed was something that happened all the time.

The only sound was Janus’ even breathing next to him. Virgil stared at the wall and tried not to think about how close the two of them were to each other.

Yeah, there was no way he getting any sleep tonight.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #virgil sanders #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #patton sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #anxceit #royality #my fic #ten things i hate about you

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foreverthesickestkidz · 4 years

Text

I’ll put a summary here L8er

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten

warnings: cursing, murder, torture, mentions the words domestic abuse & rape

masterlist | guidelines | lullaby m.list

August was an unusually stressful month for you, given your circumstances. Moving away from home, back to Eclipse University, into your small, lonesome apartment was not all that exciting. Starting your last year of law school wasn’t exciting either. A new year meant two new semesters full of tough courses, a paid internship, and the dreaded Bar exam at the end of it all. Stress was eating at you all summer as you tried to prepare yourself for this last year of schooling before fully entering the real world. The one thing you always looked forward to when coming back to this little college town though, was seeing Bambam.

“Y/n! Long time, no see!” Bambam, your beloved best friend, practically screamed the second he laid eyes on you entering his department store.

You giggled, accepting the bear hug he was pulling you into. “Hey B, I missed you so much!” As you pulled away you noticed him look you up and down and shake his head.

“Damn, girl. Did you get hit by a bus this summer? You look like hell,” he raised an eyebrow. You lightly smacked his shoulder and laughed.

“No! It’s just been really stressful lately. And I literally just moved all my stuff back into my apartment, okay!”

Bambam noticed another customer enter the store then, looking over your shoulder rather than at you.

“I wasn’t too sure if you’d be here actually, B. I was gonna call and make sure before I walked all the way here, but I decided to make it a surprise,” You explained, moving to the side so he could walk past, following close behind.

Bambam never let an opportunity to make a customer glamourous pass, not even for his best friend he hasn’t seen in months.

“Oh yeah, I just got back actually. I hosted a fashion show in Milan last week, but I’ll be here for another month maybe,” He explained as he reached the young lady browsing the racks of his expensive, well designed blouses. He turned away from you to greet her, so you decided to leave him be, and just call after he closed the shop for the day. After giving a small wave to Bambam as you walked out the shop, mouthing a ‘I’ll call around 7’ as to not interrupt the client, you wandered back into the streets of Eclipse. The August sun was strong, and you noted the nice weather as you passed by the other shops and restaurants of Downtown. Bambam’s shop was only about a fifteen minute walk from your apartment, but in the heat, it seemed like ages. So, you decided to stop at a little ice cream parlor before heading all the way back into campus.

Kim’s Ice Cream was practically empty. Upon walking in you noticed two things immediately, the first was that they didn’t serve chocolate ice cream, the second was the only other customer present in the building. He sat in the corner with a half melted milkshake in front of him, watching something intently out the window. So, curiosity got the best of you and after settling for the next best ice cream flavor (second to chocolate), you wandered over to his table.

He seemed to notice you immediately, which wasn’t that abnormal since you were the only other customer there. But, he looked up and cocked his head to the side, almost like a questioning puppy.

Smiling, you greeted him, “Hey, is this seat taken?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, and shook his head. “No, no. Please,” He motioned towards the empty seat across from him, and finally returned the smile.

“I’m Y/n. I just happened to notice you watching something outside,” you nervously laughed, “Curiosity sort of urged me over here to ask what it was.” Upon finishing your sentence, you ate a spoonful of ice cream. He looked up and made complete eye contact with you for the first time. His eyes were full of focus, and deep with thought.

With a lazy grin he licked his lips and answered. “Curiosity killed the cat, you know.”

With a nod and a soft smile you quickly replied “But the cat knew the truth.”

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head with a laugh. “I was watching the birds. I’ve always found them so intriguing,” He glanced outside once again, and looked back with a darker twist in his large pupils. You always noticed the smallest things about people, and the eyes ahead of you were certainly the eyes of someone hurting.

“I’m Mark” he stuck his hand out for you to shake. Calloused fingers and bruised knuckles engulfed your smaller hand.

****

Several hours after the introduction, you found yourself laying in bed wide awake. While finishing unpacking you grew tired, but somehow you can’t seem to fall asleep.

With a frustrated sigh, you reached to the nightstand to pick up your phone and check the time. Seeing 4 unread texts from Bambam, you decided to read and respond, it wasn’t like you were going to get any sleep anyway.

-Sorry you had to leave earlier I had to glam that bitch

-Hey idk if youve seen the news but theres some scary shit happening in eclipse rn, you should be careful ok?

-? y/n

-Y/N!!!

You shook your head and rubbed your eyes. The last text was only sent five minutes ago, maybe Bambam was still awake. You decided to turn the news on before calling him.

“Residents of Eclipse please be extra cautious! Breaking News reports a string of murders throughout the town, focused around Eclipse University’s campus. We’re reminding all citizens to lock your doors, and remain calm. We all need to stick together at this time.”

Your eyes grew wide as you flung the blanket from your form and ran to your front door. Locking the deadbolt, you immediately FaceTimed Bambam.

“Bambam! What the hell is happening?” You almost yelled through the phone.

“Shh shh, calm down. It’s okay, you’re okay,” he comforted you with a soft tone. Bambam always knew when your anxiety flared up, and stayed gentle with you to help you calm down. He stayed on the phone until he knew you were alright.

“Just remember to be careful, y/n.” He whispered after a while, and you finally managed to fall asleep.

Bambam huffed as he hung up the phone. The truth was that he was terrified. He knew he would be alright, he owned a few guns and he was away from Eclipse for weeks at a time anyway. But, he also knew you didn’t live the same life as him. You didn’t own any weapons, you were stuck here, and you trusted far too easily. The murders sent shivers down Bambam’s spine and his head started to ache at the thought of his best friend in danger. Worried hands typed vigorously on his phone as he dialed the phone number of the one person he hated most. He knew that despite his hatred, this person would be the only one close enough to you that Bambam trusted to ensure your safety when he left.

“Bambam? What the fuck do you want? It’s three in the fucking morn-“ Jackson’s voice was husky and rough after being awoken.

“Shut the fuck up and listen.” Bambam was already annoyed with the boy on the other line.

Jackson scoffed and rolled his eyes, despite Bambam not being able to see.

“Have you seen the news?” Bambam ran a hand through his hair and walked out onto the balcony.

“Yeah, if you’re calling to accuse me of any shit I won’t hesitate to block you.” Jackson’s defensive tone was enough to piss Bambam off.

“I’m not accusing you of anything. You might think you’re tough shit but you’re no killer. I’m calling about y/n”

Jackson’s ears perked up at hearing your name.

“Y/n? What about her? Is she okay?” His voice suddenly grew softer.

“She’s fine. But, I’m worried about her. You know how she is, and I’m not sure how I can make sure she’s safe when I leave Eclipse,” Bambam sighed. “That’s why I called. Me, you and Yugyeom don’t get along, but I know you both care for her as much as I do.” A slight breeze caused him to shiver.

Bambam heard rustling on the other end of the line.

Jackson pulled his shirt on and tied his shoelaces.

“When are you leaving?”

Bambam looked out over the silent town, and shook his head to himself.

“Soon,”

Jackson grabbed his keys and reached for the doorknob.

“She’s in good hands, Bambam.”

The line went dead as Bambam leaned his head back, eyes closing.

“She damn well better be. She’s all I’ve got in this world.” He whispered softly to the wind.

Jackson pulled the door of his Corvette open and slipped inside. The curfew didn’t let up for another hour, but he needed to see Yugyeom. His best friend needed to know what Bambam called about, and he wasn’t sure how Yugyeom would react to the prospect of seeing you again. Shifting gears, he sped away in the direction of Downtown.

Yugyeom opted to move to Eclipse permanently after his first semester of law school. His home life wasn’t ideal, and he was happier here than there. His little house on the corner of Main Street and Downtown boulevard was perfect for him. He was in a deep sleep when he awoke to the sound of constant banging on his door. Groaning and reaching for the 9mm pistol in his nightstand, he pushed himself up and rubbed his eyes. He opened the front door to be met with the worried eyes of his best friend.

“Fucking hell, bro. I thought you were a murderer or something!” Yugyeom furrowed his eyebrows as he let Jackson in.

“Funny you mention that…” Jackson rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I just got off the phone with Bambam.”

***

Mark held the printed photograph up next to the sorry male in front of him. The picture matched the guy perfectly, and with a dark chuckle he licked his lips.

“I knew I’d find you.”

The man roughly jerked against the belt that secured him to the chair. Flailing helplessly to try to break away, screaming into the duct tape secured on his mouth.

“Stop trying to break away. Nobody will help you.” Mark cocked his head to the side, grinning at his prey. The man’s muffled screams began again. Mark pulled up a chair and sat in front of him. The only light came from an exposed lightbulb hanging from the ceiling above them. The lighting created a halo above the bloodied man. How ironic.

“I have some questions for you, before I have some fun, so you just nod or shake your head in response. And if you lie, you’re gonna regret it.” He held up a knife in one hand, and a gun in the other.

“This is how this is gonna work, I’m going to ask a question, you will truthfully answer me. If you cooperate, I’ll use this,” he held up the gun, pulling the slide back, “if you don’t cooperate, I’ll use this,” he held the knife up again, skillfully spinning them through his fingers. The man’s eyes widened in fear.

Mark’s eyes gleamed with excitement.

“First question! Have you ever seen this girl?” He held up another printed photo of a smiling young woman. The man vigorously shook his head.

“You fucking LIAR!” Mark screamed the last word. He rolled his eyes and stood from his chair.

“You lied straight away! Nobody ever lies from the first question!” He laughed out, and ripped the duct tape from the man’s mouth.

“Now, count backwards from 100 in sets of 3,” Mark pressed the knife against the bottom of the man’s pinky finger.

“Fucking count!” Mark screamed in his face. He began counting as Mark sawed away at his fingers. Blood dripped down the armrest of the chair and onto the rotting carpet. Mark was in euphoria. The red color was glittering under the harsh lighting and the smell made his grin a little wider.

Many hours into Mark’s fun he grew bored and decided it was time for judgement. The man was on the very brink of passing out anyway, and the smell of blood started to give Mark a headache.

“Alright, man. I’m done.” Mark huffed out. The man looked almost relieved. ”I hereby render you guilty of domestic abuse, and the rape of Yang Jimin. I sentence you to death.” Mark smirked at the man’s appearance, and inability to speak after having his tongue ripped out. He untied the man and laid him out on the floor. He began softly singing, “Lay thee down now and rest, may thy slumber be blessed lay thee down now and rest, may thy slumber be blessed,” he pulled the gun from his pocket and pressed the barrel to the man’s forehead. “Lullaby and goodnight, thy mother's delight, bright angels beside my darling abide,” He pulled the trigger, blood splattering over his face and clothes. Humming the song again, he brought the knife to the dead man’s stomach. After etching the word “goodnight” in scratchy rough lettering, Mark shook his head.

“Justice is served,” he chuckled and pulled matches from his pocket. Picking up the gasoline in the corner, he walked around the tiny raggedy house, lighting his cigarette with a match before pitching it behind him, walking away and disappearing into the night.

***

Morning light drifted through your blinds when your alarm rang. You blinked your eyes open and yawned before turning the annoying noise off. Stretching, you got up and got ready for the day. You only had one class, but after you had to report to your first day of interning with Eclipse’s best attorney, Lee Kwang, who also happened to be your professor. Upon walking to your car, you never expected to see the familiar black Jeep parked next to your little blue Corolla.

“Kim Yugyeom. It’s been a while,” you smiled halfheartedly to the owner of said Jeep.

“We need to talk.” He seemed on edge, but you figured it was because the last night you spoke in person was a night everyone involved wished to forget.

You unlocked your car and opened the back door, dropping your backpack in the seat. “There’s not much to talk about.” You looked anywhere but at him.

“I talked to Bambam last night,” he leaned his back against the door, arms crossed.

The realization hit you a second later.

“No. Absolutely not. I don’t need anyone’s protection. I’m a grown woman.” You seethed at the thought that these boys saw you as someone so weak.

“It’s not about that, y/n. We just care about you,” he tried to reason with you.

“Who cares about me? Because you and Jackson are the last people who act like they care about me.” You shook your head to stop tears from falling. Slipping into your car, you pulled away from the parking lot.

***

Mark’s eyes met yours the second you walked into the law firm. He waved and smiled as you walked towards him.

“Hey! I never thought I’d see you here!” You beamed at the boy you met yesterday.

“Yeah, small world. I was just on my way out, but before I go, I just, I forgot to ask back at the ice cream shop,” he blushed a little and scratched the back of his head. “Can I maybe, get your number?”

Your face flushed red, yet you smiled widely.

“Yeah! Of course!” You reached for a pen and scribbled numbers onto a sticky note.

“Thanks, I’ll call you later!” He smiled as he walked away.

You took a deep breath and knocked on Professor Lee’s door, not noticing the way Mark looked back at you as he left the building.

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

Winter’s Fall (Two)

Glimpses of Bucky and Tony growing up together and those first few moments where their friendship dips into something more. This chapter is equal parts shenanigans, tooth rotting fluff and pearl clutching peeks into first loves.

(also, Idk why but I cannot get over how much Sleeping Beauty’s mom must have just panicked thinking about the curse basically all day every day, so I wrote some of that in here too)

MASTERLIST HERE

Enjoy!

*************** The castle cook shouted in alarm and swiped after the little hellion that had stolen two cupcakes from the counter, but Tony was seven years old and entirely too fast for the old cook to catch. He spent every summer at the Castle Barnes and by now he knew exactly how to snatch treats and get away with it.

“Ha ha, Happy! You can’t catch me!” Tony called over his shoulder and then tore down the hall and skidded through the foyer, bolting up the winding staircase with his hard won prizes clutched in his little hands. “Bucky! Bucky, I got cupcakes! Bucky!”

Tony tripped and fell over the rug closest to Bucky’s suite, but tucked into a roll and bounded out of it with feet steady and only a little frosting smeared on his shirt. “Bucky?” Tony burst through the door of his best friend’s room and glanced around wildly. “Quick! We gotta eat ‘em before Happys stomps up here looking-- oh my gosh-- BUCKY!”

The cupcakes pitched to the ground when the young Prince darted forward with hands outstretched, and Bucky screamed, “Tony!” as he fell from the railing of the top bunk and towards the unforgiving floor.

“Ooph! Gotcha!” Tony wheezed when the brunt of the five year old’s weight landed on his chest, but his arms locked tight around Bucky’s frame anyway, holding him tight until Tony was sure he was fine. “Are you dead? Please don’t be dead. Mama will be so mad if you’re dead, Buck!”

“M’not dead.” Bucky was shaking like a leaf as he rolled off Tony and onto the floor, hugging his knees to his chest, blue eyes wide and terrified. “But--but don’t tell Ma, okay? She might kill me for real.”

“Not dead?” Tony repeated, and when Bucky shook his head, Tony hauled off and popped Bucky in the shoulder, howling, “What the hell were ya doin’ up there! Dang it, Buck! You scared me!”

“Ow!” Bucky popped Tony right back, not caring a single bit that the other boy was two years and several inches taller. “Don’t hit me! I was just tryna see out the high window!”

“You coulda done it without costing me my cupcakes!” Tony shouted. “I hadta drop them to save you!”

“You didn’t have to save me!” Bucky raised his voice too, balling up his little fist in frustration. “I would’ve been fine!”

“Mar’get says I gotta make sure you don’t fall from anywhere, dummy!” Tony scowled at Bucky, then scowled over at the remainder of their cupcakes. “You could make it easier by not falling on purpose all the time! You’re so--”

Tony stopped when Bucky sniffed, the five year hiding his face and starting to cry. “You’re so-- aw Buck, don’t cry. S’okay. You fell and I caught you, right? Everything’s okay. Don’t be scared. I’m not really mad, hey, it’s okay.”

“S-Sorry.” Bucky hiccuped and Tony budged closer to give him a one armed hug. “Th-thanks for catching me, Tony.”

“I’ll always catch you, Buck.” Tony promised. “But no more climbing the top bunk, okay?”

“Okay.” Bucky hiccuped again. “Can we go get some more cupcakes?”

“Happy will be really mad.” Tony said doubtfully. “We’ll have to sneak in. Maybe even wear masks so he doesn’t know it’s us.”

“Oh I know!” Bucky lit up in excitement. “We can cut up my Ma’s stockings for masks! We’ll be invis’ble!”

“That’s a great idea!” Tony exclaimed. “C’mon c’mon c’mon!”

Later that night Winnie shrieked in horror when she found the remnants of her very favorite pair of stockings cut out into vaguely child sized masks, and even though Bucky and Tony swore they knew nothing and absolutely hadn’t used the stockings to try and steal cupcakes, the frosting around their mouths told another story.

“Absolute hellions.” Winnie said mournfully and Maria only barely managed to stop laughing long enough to agree, “Hellions.”

***************

It was only a matter of time before Winnie and George caught Bucky trying to climb along the top bunk in his room of course, so by the time Tony was ten and Bucky only about eight, the bedroom had been redone so Bucky’s bed was on a low platform and the high window boarded up so he wouldn’t be tempted to climb to it again.

Having a low bed didn’t stop Bucky from being reckless, of course. Now the boys were old enough to play unaccompanied in the gardens and they spent every minute of the day outside playing knights and dragons, soldiers and archers, pirates and privateers. Bucky could scale a tree in only a few minutes but Tony was faster on his feet so their play time took them from one end of the orchard to the other, up through branches and tumbling through hedges, scaling ladders and jumping from the roofs of shops and sheds.

“Oh I wish he wouldn’t do that.” Winnie clutched at her tea cup and grimaced as Bucky swung upside down on a branch, stabbing and swinging at Tony with his wooden sword. “I’m so worried about him falling.”

“He’s a boy, Winnie.” Maria said mildly. “You can’t expect him to simply sit and do his sums and alphabet all day, the poor dear would go mad.”

These days Maria and Tony lived in the Castle Barnes most of the year, only traveling back to their own Kingdom to spend the holidays with Howard. Tony and Bucky were best friends, happy to sit together at meals, to do lessons side by and side and even to share a suite with twin bed pushed to opposite ends of the walls, and Winnie--

--Well, Winnie’s nerves grew worse every year and since George was too occupied with matters of the realm to worry about his anxious wife’s panicky spells, Maria stayed on to help keep her oldest friend calm and collected.

“You don’t have to worry so much, you know.” Maria poured fresh tea into Winnie’s cup and tried for a comforting smile. “Tony would never let Bucky fall. Look at them, they are the very best of friends! Breathe, love. All will be well.”

“That’s easy for you to say.” Winnie said tightly, staring out the window at the boys. “It isn’t your child that’s cursed.”

Outside in the garden, Tony faked a stab at Bucky’s belly and when Bucky gasped and grabbed at his stomach as if it had been a fatal blow, Tony crowed, “I am victorious! Bring me the Princess!”

“The Princess?” Bucky made a face. “Who wants a Princess?”

“At the end of the story, Prince Charming always gets to kiss the Princess.” Tony explained in a rather no duh tone of voice. “And I won, so where’s my Princess?”

“Kay, but just cos you won doesn’t mean you’re charming.” Bucky protested. “You flick boogers at me during lessons! That’s not charming!”

“Maybe if you were a Princess, I wouldn’t flick boogers at you.” Tony countered, and got a mouth full of dirt for his efforts, Bucky dropping right out of the tree and taking Tony to the ground with him. “Ack! You weigh a thousand pounds! Get off!”

“You weigh a thousand pounds!” Bucky cried and just that quickly, their discussion about Princesses derailed into wrestling and trying to shove mud up the other’s noses.

They were an absolute mess when the servant came to call for dinner, Bucky’s beautifully embroidered shirt torn at the shoulder and Tony’s shorts stained beyond redemption.

“Hey, you got a little--” Tony wiped a smear of dirt from Bucky’s cheek and grinned at him. “I got it. Race you to dinner?”

“Yep.” Bucky stomped on Tony’s foot and took off running for his life, cackling gleefully as Tony tore after him. “I’m winning! I’m winning!”

The servant only sighed and stepped out of the way so she wasn’t run over.

Such was life when Tony visited the Castle Barnes.

**************

“We should tell him.” Winnie whispered the night of Bucky’s tenth birthday. “George my love, we should tell Bucky about the curse. He doesn’t understand why we are so strict with him and if he only knew then he wouldn’t try to break the rules so often.”

“Don’t you dare.” George said flatly. The monarch loved Winnie very much but he had endured quite enough of her ceaseless worrying and panicking over every little thing. He thought about the curse every day too, but Winnie had actually boarded off the balconies the other day because Bucky and Tony were leaning on the rails and spitting into the grass. Just seeing Bucky on the balcony had sent Winnie into a faint and George had had enough of her hysterics.

“Why would you wish so much worry and stress on the boy?” He asked, throwing his hands in the air. “Boys fall, Winnie. They get hurt and they get back up again. Telling Bucky about his curse would mean that every time he slipped he’d panic, and then he’d stop doing anything that might cause him injury, which means he would stop doing anything at all. Do you want that? Do you want our boy to live in fear every waking moment, wondering and worrying and too afraid to even go outside?”

“...no.” Winnie covered her face. “No, but George I--”

“You will not tell him.” The King’s word was final, his eyes flashing in annoyance. “I forbid it. If Bucky is doomed to fall, then all the worrying in the world will not keep it from happening. We cannot live our lives in fear, and I won’t let Bucky live that way either. He does not need to know, not now and maybe not ever.”

Winnie nodded stiffly and George put a comforting, if not hurrying, arm around her waist to send her along to her chambers. “Off to bed then. Get some rest and I’ll see you in the morning.”

Winnie passed by the boy’s room on her way to bed and only the height of self control and perhaps fear of George’s anger kept her from opening the door and waking Bucky just to check that he was alright.

She needn’t have worried. The boys were perfectly alright and perfectly awake, curled up together in Bucky’s bed trading a book back and forth and talking in hushed whispers.

“How come the Princess is always in the highest room of the tallest tower?” Bucky wanted to know. “Seems like a dumb place to hide. Did she get trapped up there?”

“She’s not trapped.” At twelve, Tony was sure he knew absolutely everything. “That’s where she’s the safest! She’s safe from the dragon, safe from any bad guys, plus when the Prince rescues her it's all romantic and everything. They can watch the sunset while they share true loves kiss.”

“Nah.” Bucky was ten, and sure his best friend knew exactly nothing. “If it were me, I wouldn’t wait to be rescued. I’d tie the bed sheets together and jump out the window and rescue myself.”

“No you wouldn’t.” Tony shook his head. “You’d wait for me to come rescue you just like you always do.”

“Wait wait wait.” Bucky pushed at Tony’s shoulder irritably. “You say that like I’m the Princess. I’m not the Princess! And I don’t always need rescued!”

“Sure you do.” Tony turned a page and tapped at the picture of the Princess clutching flowers and reaching out for the Prince. “See? You got long hair just like her and you held roses last week and told me to rescue you!”

“I like my hair long.” Bucky informed the other Prince. “And I wasn’t holding roses, you pushed me into the rose bush and I needed help getting out! It doesn’t count as a rescue if you pushed me first!”

“You’re just bein’ picky for no reason.” Tony insisted and Bucky walloped him with a pillow. “Ow! Dang it, Bucky! I can’t help that you’re a Princess and I’m Prince Charming! It’s just the way the story goes!”

“DON’T CALL ME A PRINCESS!”

Bucky got a pillow to the face when he yelled and the book was quickly forgotten in favor of a full out pillow fight. Howard was only just heading to bed when he heard the racket, and he pounded at the door, hollering, “You two be quiet or I’ll separate you!”

The boys scrambled apart and into their respective beds and only after Howard’s footsteps had receded down the hall did Tony whisper, “You don’t gotta be the Princess, Buck. I’d rescue you anyway. You know that.”

“I know.” Bucky whispered back. “But the next time you push me in the flowers, I’m gonna thump you, alright?”

“That’s fair.”

**************

By Tony’s thirteenth birthday, he had moved into the Castle Barnes entirely. Maria still split her time between Winnie and her home with Howard, but Tony simply moved most of his belongings into Bucky’s suite of rooms and stayed, perfectly content to share everything with his best friend.

The witch Margaret came to visit shortly after Tony’s birthday, appearing in a wash of warm wind and tinted air, waving her hands and exclaiming, “I meant to be here for your special day, little love. But time is different when you are old like me, the days blend together and weeks don’t mean much of anything at all, and before I knew it, I was late to the party!”

The boys forgave Margaret in an instant, always too happy to see the witch to care that her visits were sporadic and always thrilled with whatever gifts she magiced from her cloak.

This time the gift was a set of twin daggers, beautifully carved handles and runes etched onto the gleaming blades and Margaret was very serious, very careful as she handed the knives to the boys and admonished, “You are near to grown now, and it’s very important to keep yourself and each other safe. These will help, do you understand? Keep them on you always.”

“So long as Tony’s got his, I’ll be okay.” Bucky pushed his hair out of his eyes and beamed at Margaret. “He always rescues me!”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Margaret had a warmly approving smile for Tony. “But all the same, I want you to wear yours too, James. Promise?”

“I promise.” Bucky said seriously. “But it’s just Bucky, ma’am. No one but Ma calls James and only if I’m in trouble.”

“Ah. Bucky then.” Margaret was equally as seriously, and leaned down to give both the boys a kiss on their forehead. “Go and play so I can talk with your mothers.”

The boys were gone immediately, exclaiming over their new knives and shouting about all the monsters they would slay with the blades, and Margaret took herself right to Winnie’s rooms to see the Queen.

“Are you quite alright, love?” It was clear Winnie wasn’t alright, but Margaret asked all the same, retrieving a cool cloth from... somewhere... and laying it gently on Winnie’s forehead. “Tell me what’s wrong, what could have happened to have you so worked up?”

Winnie burst into tears, crying about how Bucky had slipped and fallen just that morning and how George was tired of her hysterics but how she couldn't help it, and oh every year that passed she got more and more nervous and how could they ever hope to break the curse when Bucky might not make it to old enough to love--

“Hush, now.” A hand in the air and a softly murmured blessing, and the tension washed right out of Winnie’s body, the witch’s influence calming her nerves like no earthly medicine could. “Didn't I tell you that there are many ways to love? Very few require a kiss, darling. So long as the love is true, there is always a chance to save our boy.”

Margaret tipped her head towards the window as Bucky and Tony raced by down below, calling to each other in excitement on their way to another adventure, and the witch smiled to herself.

So long as the love is true, there is always a chance.

***************

The year Bucky turned thirteen, he and Tony greased the banister of the staircase and spent an entire day rocketing down the three floors at a speed just below breakneck.

It ended much the way most of their shenanigans ended-- with a miscalculation and a scream and Tony lunging to grab Bucky before something terrible happened. Bucky walked away with only a couple bruises, but Tony’s shoulder strained as he had grabbed for his friend, and Bucky spent a solid week rubbing healing cream into Tony’s arm as an apology.

“Come off it, Buck.” Tony finally said on the last night. “I’d’ve grabbed you even if I hurt my shoulder worse. You know that.”

“I know.” Bucky bit at his lip in concentration as he worked at the hurt muscles tentatively. “But I wanna take care of you anyway. I feel bad you got hurt helping me.”

“Yeah well, I’m bigger than you.” Tony nudged at Bucky good naturedly. “Better me getting hurt than you, Buck.”

Winnie moved the boys bedroom down to the ground floor after the stairs incident, telling Maria shakily, “If Bucky isn’t on the upper floors than he can’t fall from the balcony or slip down the stairs, right? He can’t fall if he’s on the ground.”

“You’re right.” Maria held Winnie’s thin hand and nodded, sharing a worried look with George over Winnie’s head. “You’re right, darling. He can’t fall if he’s always on the ground.”

“I hate being down here.” Bucky complained one day as he slumped in his desk chair and worked on his Latin. “Only thing out the windows is trees and I can’t even see over them to see the ocean! Why is Ma being so weird about letting me near anything high?”

“Probably cos every time you get more than an inch off the ground you’re flailing about like a lunatic and trying to face plant.” Tony was fifteen now and catching the eye of every scullery maid and serving girl in the castle. His curly hair never managed to stay tamed, his dark eyes sparkled with gold when the light hit it just right, and despite many many arguments with Bucky over whether or not his behavior was charming, Tony’s smile could get him just about anything he wanted.

Right now his smile was just aggravating though, so Bucky threw a wadded up piece of paper at him and went back to work.

“You been kissed yet, Buck?” Tony said next and Bucky’s head shot up, crystal blue eyes narrowing in confusion.

“...no? But you know that, cos you know everything about me.” Bucky tapped his pencil on the table for a few seconds before asking, “Have you been kissed yet?”

“Nah.” Tony shook his head. “I think one of the serving girls would let me kiss her if I wanted though. They’ve sure started being nice now that I’m grown.”

“You’re not grown.” Bucky scoffed and Tony retorted. “More grown than you! My voice got deep last year and you still sound like a kid!”

“Whatever.” Bucky played with the end of one of his braids, bottom lip poking out as he thought for a minute. “Who wants to kiss, though? I saw Ma and Pop kissing and it looked real uncomfortable. And Pop says things like Ma looks like spring, cos her hair’s brown and her eyes are green and she smells like flowers? I don’t get it, but it’s dumb.”

“Sure sounds dumb. Who wants to be called after a season?” Tony unwrapped a package of cookies and offered most of them to Bucky. “If I said you looked like Winter that would be stupid, right? Your hair looks like dead branches and you’re super pale like snow and your lips are red like they’re frostbitten? That’s stupid, nobody wants to hear that.”

Bucky paused with a cookie half way to his mouth. “...you think about how I look, Tony?”

“We sleep in the same room, I gotta look at your ugly face all the time.” Tony deadpanned and Bucky frowned at him, flinging back, “Yeah well, you look like Autumn. Muddy eyes and hair like shriveled up leaves and your freckles look like dirt!”

“What!” Tony jumped to his feet in outrage. “My eyes don’t look like mud!”

“You didn’t deny the dirty freckles!” Bucky taunted. “I bet them serving girls don’t wanna kiss you so much as they wanna clean your face!”

“Damn it!” Tony cleared his desk in one leap and tackled Bucky right out of his chair, the wooden legs cracking under their combined weight and splintering to pieces. “Take it back! My freckles aren’t dirty!”

“They are!” Bucky was gasping with laughter as they grappled and rolled and pinched at each other. “You look like Autumn! Muddy, dirt trackin’ in Autumn!”

“That’s better than dead branch hair Winter!” Tony insisted. “And frostbitten lips! They’ll turn black and fall off and no girl will ever want to kiss those

“Don’t wanna kiss a girl anyway!” Bucky argued back. “So I guess it’s fine!”

“Oops, I gotcha.” Tony automatically put his hand behind Bucky’s head to keep it from bouncing off the hardwood when they rolled one more time. “Wait. What do you mean, you don’t wanna kiss a girl?”

“Well I dunno.” Bucky’s whole body moved on the floor when he shrugged. “Who needs to kiss a girl when I could kiss you if I wanted to?”

“You--” Tony blinked in surprise, his fingers tightening briefly in Bucky’s hair before falling away. “You want to kiss me?”

“You’re my best friend.” Bucky clambered up from the floor and dusted off his pants. “If I wanted to kiss somebody, guess it’d be you, right?”

“Huh.” Tony brushed a few splinters from Bucky’s shoulder and nodded. “Yeah, I guess if I wanted to kiss someone it’d be you.” And then with a glare. “Gonna call you Winter from now on, though. Stick hair Winter.”

“You call me Winter and I’m gonna call you mud.” Bucky threatened. “Just you watch and see.”

************

When a Prince turned fifteen, it was common practice to send him to live with another family, usually a neighboring royal, possibly even a rival Kingdom. The years away from home taught the Prince how to adapt to uncertain situations as well as reinforced the bonds of established friends and strengthened relationships with tenuous allies.

More than likely, Tony would have come to live at the Barnes castle on his fifteenth birthday since Winnie and George were the Stark’s closest friends, and two years later Bucky would have gone to live with Howard and Maria.

Tony already lived at the Barnes castle of course, so his fifteen birthday came and went with nothing more than a birthday party and pile of gifts, and life continued on much the way it had for years.

By the time Bucky turned fifteen, Winnie was anxious to the point of not even wanting the Prince to wander the castle grounds un escorted and the thought of Bucky leaving to foster-- even to someone trusted like the Stark’s-- was enough to make her hands tremble.

Much like Tony’s fifteen birthday, Bucky’s was a day of celebration, of presents, and of nothing changing at all.

Not that Bucky was disappointed to be staying home. Besides his Ma’s increasingly anxious episodes and the ever stricter rules about where they could go and what they could do, Bucky didn’t want to leave home. He didn’t want to leave his Ma and Pop and he certainly didn’t want to leave Tony.

Tony was his best friend and partner in crime and confidant and some days-- some days--

“Hey, I dunno if I want you to call me Bucky anymore.” he said one day as they sat curled up on the sofa in the library, tucked warmly under blankets to keep out the winter chill, sharing a book between their laps. “Seems like a little kid’s name.”

“But everyone calls you Bucky.” Tony didn’t look up from the illustrated page, tracing the lines of a terrifying beast and skimming the information beneath. “Did you know if you cut the head off the Hydra monster, two more grow in its place? Scary.”

“Hydra monsters aren't real.” Bucky slouched into the couch and put his head on Tony’s shoulder. “And I’m serious. I don’t know what else to have people call me, cos James doesn’t really feel like my name unless Ma’s yelling at me, but Bucky sure seems like a kid.”

“I could start calling you Winter.” Tony shifted on the couch so he could get his arm around Bucky tugging his friend closer. Lately it seemed like all he wanted to do was hold Bucky and since Bucky never seemed to care, Tony kept right on doing it. “I remember threatening to call you Winter for a while, wonder why I never did.”

“Cos I threatened to beat you stupid if you kept saying my hair looked like dead branches.” Bucky snuggled closer and tapped at the Hydra monster painting. “That’s sure freaky looking though, imagine seeing one’a them? That’d make anyone scream.”

“I could kill it.” Tony said confidently. “Just get my sword real hot and chop it all off at the neck, burn the flesh so it doesn’t grow back. Easy.”

“Easy.” Bucky mimicked and Tony pinched his side viciously. “Ow! Damn it! Don’t do that! We’re not kids anymore, Tony! I’m bigger than you and I’ll get you for that!”

“You’re maybe the same size as me.” Tony said scornfully. “Don’t push your luck.”

Bucky settled back down into Tony’s side and after a moment Tony said, “Your hair doesn’t look like dead branches by the way. It’s more like… like black silk. And you’re real pale like snow but not ugly snow like I used to tell you. Just pretty, fresh snow all glittery on top, you know what I mean?”

“...oh.” Bucky’s lips parted in surprise and Tony’s dark eyes dropped to watch, his voice a little hoarse when he continued, “I know I said your mouth looked frostbitten but I think it’s more like um-- well you remember that one year the gardener got the orchards to grow red plums and we stole a bunch and ate them until we were sick?”

“...yeah?”

“That’s what color your lips are.” Tony’s cheeks flushed pink. “So you know I could-- I could call you Winter. If you wanted. I won’t mean anything bad by it. Promise.”

Bucky’s heart was pounding, his throat suddenly dry and his face probably as red as the fruit Tony was talking about. What was he supposed to say? “Um, Tony--”

“Shhh.” If Tony blushed any harder he’d probably combust, so he just opened the book wider and pointed to a new section. “Leave me alone, I’m reading.”

“Okay.” More than a little relieved Tony didn’t expect him to say anything, Bucky just stayed quiet, leaning in so he could read too. And if his hand brushed Tony’s when they both reached for the same page, that was alright and if Tony maybe leaned back so Bucky was leaning more on his chest, well that was alright too.

They still shared a room, beds pushed to opposite walls and clothes all stuffed into one big dresser and tonight for the first time ever, Bucky ducked into the en suite to change into his sleep clothes.

He was suddenly feeling self conscious, suddenly over aware of his body and of Tony’s body and that their beds were in the same room, even if they were twenty feet apart. He’d never felt awkward around Tony before but tonight Bucky thought he’d pass out if he had to see Tony almost naked as they changed.

The en suite, it was.

When Bucky came out of the bathroom, Tony was already in bed with his back to the room but there was a tiny bouquet of flowers on Bucky’s pillow, the last of the blossoms from the plum tree, a rose or two from Winnie’s favorite bush, a sprig of greenery, all tied with a bright red ribbon.

Bucky brought the flowers to his nose and inhaled their fragrant scent, whispering a shy, “Thank you.”

“I’m sleeping.” Tony whispered back and Bucky only grinned, setting the flowers carefully at his bedside and climbing under the covers to sleep, and to dream of Tony.

*************

“You should have seen the fuss the boys put up about being separated.” Maria cut into the delicate cake and offered Margaret a piece. “But once Bucky turned sixteen, they needed their own space. I don’t understand how they’ve been content to share just one room their whole lives, I go batty sharing a suite with Howard and we’re in love!.”

“Quite right, my dear.” Howard didn’t even look up from his newspaper, and Maria sent him a fond smile.

“The boys don’t love each other?” Margaret queried, sipping at her tea and keeping a close eye on Winnie, who could barely manage a taste of her own cup. “How odd, last time I came they seemed so close.”

“Oh they love each other very much.” Maria was quick to assure her. “Bucky is still reckless and Tony is unfailingly patient when it comes to keeping Bucky is safe. They trust each other implicitly, it's rather wonderful to see. And even thought they argue at least twice a day, at least they’ve finally out grown the habit of wrestling all the time.”

“Winnie, my love?” Margaret reached and lay gentle fingers on the Queen’s arm. “You haven’t said anything. You don’t approve of how close Tony and Bucky are?”

“Tell me.” Winnie set her tea down and clasped her shaking fingers together. “When you came through the bridge, did they have it shut down on both the castle side and the city? Or just the city?”

“Both castle and city.” Margaret answered calmly, thinking of the barricades on either side of the bridge across the gorge. “As you’ve ordered, isn’t that right?”

“I just can’t take a chance.” Winnie whispered, her face very pale now. “The curse will come true before my baby is grown and he is so close to grown. No balconies, no stairs, no bridges. He can’t fall if he’s always on the ground, isn’t that right?”

“Oh my love.” Margaret sent an alarmed look towards Maria and then switched seats so she was right next to the Queen. “When was the last time you slept, darling?”

“A few days ago, Bucky and Tony were practicing their dances for the upcoming winter ball.” Maria supplied quietly. “Tony wanted to try lifting Bucky and they argued about how Bucky was certainly not a girl to be lifted and Tony insisted he was strong enough and well--” she sighed. “Winnie came to the ballroom just as Tony dropped Bucky. They both ended up on the floor but Bucky didn’t so much as bump his head. Tony caught him well enough to take most of the hit and Bucky isn’t even bruised.”

“She hasn’t slept since then?” Margaret whispered, and Maria pursed her lips, shaking her head. “Where is the King?”

“George is... “ Maria hesitated. “George is out doing a rotation with the general the past few weeks.. Winnie’s nerves are only getting worse and sometimes he needs the time to himself.”

“Poor dear.” Margaret’s hand lit with a gentle glow and she placed her palm on Winnie’s forehead. “Sleep, love. You can rest, all is well.”

Winnie was out like a light, slumping into the couch immediately and Margaret rescued the tea cup as it fell from her hands. “How long has she been this bad?”

“It’s been getting worse every year.” Maria spread a blanket over Maria’s still form. “But every since Bucky turned fifteen she seems drastically worse. We all live on the bottom floor now because Winnie ordered the stairs blocked off. The doors to the balconies are boarded, even the ones over the garden. She doesn’t want Bucky riding his horse and the boys haven’t been anywhere near the cliffs for years.”

“How do they feel about being so limited?” Margaret wanted to know and Maria lifted one slim shoulder in a shrug.

“Tony and Bucky are happiest when they are together, to be quite honest don’t think they even notice the restrictions.”

Margaret raised a knowing eyebrow and Maria amended, “Alright. I know for a fact they sneak out at every given opportunity. I’ve caught Tony bandaging Bucky in the kitchen very late at night, I’ve found clothing torn on tree branches and sometimes I visit the stables and catch their horses still being wiped down.”

“I see.” Margaret nodded as if she understood completely. “Is it safe to assume they are together now?”

“Oh always.” Maria confirmed. “They don’t spend a single day apart. I’m sure you’ll find them in the garden together.”

The boys were in the garden, tucked away on the roof of the gazebo in the farthest corner from the castle. They could just barely see the ocean through the surrounding trees, they were all but invisible to anyone passing by, and moments like today when the sun shone down and birds were singing, the rooftop was practically paradise.

“How come you always want to be up high?” Tony stretched his lean frame out on the roof and sighed, folding his arms behind his head. “You know I don't mind it, but is sure makes your Ma worry.”

“I know.” Bucky nibbled around the edge of a cookie. “But Ma worries about everything these days. She’s gonna start locking me in my room soon, always scared I’m gonna fall or get hurt or something like that.”

“To be fair, you fall a lot.” Tony rolled onto his side and reached for one of the cookies from Bucky’s lap. “Not like you get hurt though, not since we greased the stairs anyway.”

“I don’t get hurt only cos you’re always there to rescue me.” Bucky scooted closer and brushed the crumbs from Tony’s shirt. “Otherwise I’d really be in trouble, huh?”

“M’always gonna be there to rescue you.” Tony said quietly and when Bucky only smiled, Tony reached for his hand and wove their fingers together.

They did this sometimes, only sometimes since Tony had left flowers on Bucky’s bed. They held hands or sat closer than necessary and even though their bedrooms were separate now, most nights Bucky ended up sitting with Tony and reading until they couldn’t keep their eyes open any longer, or Tony would sneak into Bucky’s room so they could talk until they both fell asleep. Most times it was fine and nothing felt different but sometimes Bucky would blush and Tony would be tempted to brush his fingers along the strip of skin where Bucky’s sleep shirt rode up from his pants….

Sometimes it was overwhelming, but usually it was just right. Bucky was his best friend and they loved each other. They could laugh and tease each other and argue and sometimes --sometimes--

“You’re so pretty.” Tony whispered and Bucky’s smile stretched bigger. “Is that okay? Can I tell you that?”

“If I can tell you that you’re pretty too.” Bucky whispered back.

Promptly, almost predictably Tony objected, “Prince Charmings are handsome, not pretty!”

“If you were charming, maybe I’d call you handsome.” Bucky said flatly and the tentative sweetness of the moment dissolved into an age old argument of whether or not Tony was charming, whether pretty was a word only for Princesses and then Tony blurted, “Get used to it, Winter! When we get married I’ll be King and you’ll be my Queen and I’ll call you pretty all I want!”

Bucky’s mouth fell open just as Tony’s snapped shut, eyes closing in embarrassment. “Um, what I meant was-- I didn’t mean-- not that you and I will--damn it, um--”

“Tony.” Bucky had never kissed anyone in his life, but he suddenly knew he wanted to kiss Tony. They were close together anyway, so Bucky leaned in to press their lips together just as Tony was ducking his head and cursing his own awkwardness and--

“Ow!”

“OW!”

Both boys yelped as their heads collided, Bucky’s nose connecting with Tony’s forehead and he shouted, rolling away and grabbing at his nose when it started to bleed.

“Oh shoot, are you okay? What happened?” Tony scrambled over to check on Bucky, wiping at the blood with his sleeve. “What the heck were you doing?”

“What do you mean, what was I doing?” The words came high pitched and nasal as Bucky pinched at his nose to stem the bleeding. “I was trying to kiss you! Why did you duck?”

“I felt like an idiot for saying the thing about you being my Queen.” Tony muttered. “But if I would’a known you were trying to kiss me, I wouldn’t have ducked, I promise.”

“Course I was gonna kiss you.” Bucky huffed. “What else was I ‘sposed to do when you announce you want to marry me?”

“I didn’t know that’s the sorta thing you kiss after!” Tony tipped Bucky’s head back so he could see if he was bruised or not. “Sounds right, but how do I know? I’ve never done it before.”

“You--you’ve never kissed anyone before?” Bucky couldn’t help the way his voice wobbled. “Really?”

“Well... n?.” Tony’s lips curved in a sheepish smile and he backed off a little, chucking a pebble off the roof just so he wouldn’t have to look at Bucky as he admitted, “I always figured you’d be my first but--”

“-- but what?”

“--but I don't need to kiss you to prove I love you.” Tony said quietly. “Right? You’re my best friend, Winter. I love you. No kisses needed.”

“I love you too.” It was the easiest thing in the world to say and a piece of Bucky wondered how they had never said it before. “I um-- I like when you call me Winter.”

“Yeah.” Tony’s eyes sparked warm. “I know you do.”

“You um--” Bucky took a deep breath. “You look like Autumn, okay? You got a bunch of colors in your hair like when the leaves change and your eyes look like gold when the sun hits them just right and I dunno what your freckles remind me of, but I love them.”

“Oh.” Tony had never been speechless before but he was sure speechless now, so he didn’t bother trying to talk. Instead he held out his hand and gave Bucky a hopeful smile, sat real close together, and hid his blush in Bucky’s long hair.

No kisses needed.

***********

Bucky turned eighteen and for the first time in his life won the argument with Tony about which one of them was more grown. Not only had Bucky’s voice mellowed into something deep and smooth, his shoulders broadening as he packed on muscle, but he stood a full two inches taller than Tony and that was really all that mattered.

“If you ask me if I need help reaching something again, I will end you.” Tony stated, carefully tying Bucky's neckerchief and giving it the appropriate amount of fluff. “I’m still older than you.”

“I feel like age doesn’t count when you’re smaller than me.” Bucky pointed out and then wheezed when Tony yanked the cloth tighter than strictly necessary. “You gonna strangle me on my birthday, Tony?”

“Bucky--”

“--Won’t you need a step ladder for that?”

Tony pursed his lips and Bucky snorted with laughter, and even though everyone in the party assumed Bucky’s tie was crooked and his hair messy because he and Tony had spent a moment locked in a passionate embrace, the truth was much less romantic--

--Tony had retrieved a step ladder and tackled Bucky, pinning him with a well executed and often used move, and Bucky had been laughing too hard to even try to escape.

“The least you could have done was straightened his neckerchief.” Margaret said in disapproval. “Honestly, Tony.”

“It’s not what you think, Margaret.” Tony’s dark eyes tracked Bucky across the dance floor, and he smiled when he saw Winnie make a rare appearance from her rooms long enough to dance with her son. “Everyone here thinks we were cavorting in our bedrooms, but it was less of a lover’s embrace and more of an ambush and all out war.”

“Of course it was.” Margaret’s smile was endlessly amused, her fingertips glowing with magic as she touched Tony’s cheek. “You love him very much?”

“Of course I do.” Tony didn’t even hesitate. “Bucky is my best friend.”

“And have the two of you…” Margaret raised an eyebrow meaningfully. “...made your love official?”

“What?” Tony nearly inhaled his champagne and Margaret laughed softly as his embarrassment. “No! I mean, yes we love each other, but we haven’t-- not-- oh god why am I even talking to you about this?”

“I was only curious.” Margaret patted at his arm gently. “There are many types of love, my Prince, each as wonderful as the next. I’ve lived a very long time but it will always be my favorite to hear a love story. I’m only being nosy, don’t worry. The two of you will find your moment, no matter how it comes to be.”

Tony kept sending the witch suspicious, embarrassed glances but Margaret didn’t say anything else, just gave the young Prince one of those peculiar, all knowing smiles and changed the subject.

Later that night Margaret managed a moment alone with Bucky, and she pulled him into the parlor murmuring, “You must come with me dear, we have much to talk about. It’s time for you to know a thing or two.”

Bucky sat and listened with wide eyes as the witch told him about the day of his christening, the creature Echidna and the curse, the reason why his Ma couldn’t bear to see him anywhere high and how the curse was supposed to take him before he was grown.

“But I’m grown now.” Bucky pointed out, eyes wide and lips trembling. “Eighteen years old, I’m-- I’m a man now, so I’m safe. I’m safe now, right?”

“You are indeed a man by some accounts.” Margaret allowed. “But by others, not so much. As a Prince you are a man at eighteen, but unable to take the throne until you are twenty five. If you were a peasant, you would be a man the day you could own property at twenty one. Those of us who have seen centuries don't consider a man grown until he’s married or at the very least taken a lover…”

She let her voice trail off pointedly and Bucky’s brow furrowed. “I love Tony, isn’t that enough? Perhaps our love has kept the curse from coming true.”

“Perhaps.” Margaret tried to smile. “But we must be extra careful now, little love. I know your mother has spent these last years worrying herself sick but now that we are so close to the curse running out, you are in more danger than ever.”

“...why didn’t anyone tell me?” Bucky whispered. “My whole life I’ve tried to climb to the highest places, the tallest trees. So many times I could have died if Tony hadn’t been there to catch me. Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“Would telling you have done any good besides make you worry?” Margaret asked. “Or break Tony’s heart? Tell me, Bucky. Would you still climb the gazebo roof to sit with your love if you knew a fall would bring a curse to bear?”

Bucky chewed at his bottom lip as he thought, and Margaret waited patiently.

“Yes.” he finally said. “Because Tony will always catch me. Curse or no curse, he will always rescue me.”

Margaret nodded, but her smile was sad. She had known what Bucky would say, had known why the Prince would say it. Bucky did not fear a curse he thought could never come true, not when he had a constant companion that promised over and over to save him.

But Bucky couldn't sense the growing doom around the castle, he couldn’t feel the tension in the air like Margaret could. With every balcony boarded up and every set of stairs barricaded, ribbons of fear seeped into the very stones of Castle Barnes and stained them black. The windows were clouded over no matter how well the servants cleaned, the air itself heavy with foreboding. Winnie was on the verge of collapsing and only needed the slightest provocation to be lost, Echidna had gone too long without her revenge and the fairies had warned of plants dying, of thorns growing where flowers had bloomed, of the ocean growing restless at the shores.

The castle was being wrapped in darkness, smothered by panic, fear of a coming curse doing more damage than perhaps the curse itself and Margaret knew it could only be a matter of time before everything came crashing down.

But she didn’t tell Bucky about the darkness, instead she reminded him, “True love conquers all.” and kissed Bucky’s forehead the way she always did. “Do not lose your faith, my love.”

True love conquers all.

It was nearly midnight before Tony had the opportunity to steal Bucky away from the party, and he clasped Bucky’s hand tight in his own as they ran from the hall and out the back doors of the castle into the gardens.

“Tony, wait up! I can’t run in these stupid--” Bucky hopped on one foot trying to kick out of his expensive and uncomfortable shoes. “--fancy--” his neckerchief yanked off and tossed aside. “--clothes!” his stiffly formal suit jacket dropped over a hedge and Bucky finally breathed a sigh of relief when he found Tony waiting beneath the branches of their favorite plum tree.

“Hi.” he grinned, taking both Tony’s outstretched hands and moving close enough for their noses to bump. “This is already the best part of my night.”

“You got a new sword.” Tony pointed out and Bucky countered, “Yeah, but I wear my dagger every day. The sword will just sit in my room.”

“It has your name in gold on the hilt.”

“Alright, it will be fancy while sitting in my room.”

“Oh my god.” Tony rolled his eyes, but his hand came to rest so so softly at the back of Bucky’s neck, and he sounded nervous as he whispered. “I know you hate those fancy clothes, but you were gorgeous tonight.”

“We should have danced together.” Bucky inched even closer, feeling like he wanted to wrap himself in Tony’s smile and just melt away. “Cos you sure look gorgeous in your fancy clothes too.”

“Just once you need to call me handsome.”

“Handsome is reserved for Prince Charmings.” Bucky said immediately and Tony’s eyes lit with laughter, open affection and something else that made Bucky’s breath catch and his heart start pounding.

“Tony?” he scarcely dared ask. “What are we doing out here?”

“I um--” Tony took a deep breath. “Bucky--” and with a secret sort of smile. “--Winter. I love you. You know that.”

“Sure I do.” Bucky said hoarsely. “I love you too, Tony.”

“I know.” Another one of those deep breaths. “And we’re both grown now. So I thought maybe we could-- maybe I could--”

Bucky waited with bated breath, already knowing what Tony would ask but wanting to hear it all the same.

“Could I kiss you?” Tony asked in the barest whisper. “Sweetheart, would you let me--”

“Yes.” Bucky blurted and in the next instant Tony’s lips found him, pressing and molding in a way that was completely new and somehow familiar all at the same time. They could have kissed a thousand times for all Bucky knew to put his hands at Tony’s waist, for the way Tony sighed and wove his fingers into Bucky’s hair, for the way their bodies knew each other and fit effortlessly, beautifully.

But they hadn’t kissed a thousand times, this was the first time, the first time of a millions times, innocent and almost chaste and still Bucky’s knees were unbearably weak, Tony’s chest heaving as he gulped for air, and Bucky couldn't hardly speak when they parted and he saw Tony’s eyes shimmering with tears.

“I feel like I’m gonna collapse.” The words were nearly inaudible, Bucky not trusting his voice to say much more than that. It was alright though, because Tony leaned in to touch their foreheads together and in the same soft tone whispered back, “I’ll catch you if you fall, sweetheart. Every single time. I love you.”

“Oh.” Bucky clutched at Tony’s side, pulled him impossibly closer and nodded. “Oh, I love you too.”

**************

Lost in the moment, lost in each other, neither Bucky nor Tony saw the thorns creeping along the walls of the castle and choking out the roses, and neither felt the sudden shift of icy wind as something stirred deep in the cliffs.

Margaret felt it though, and she turned from the window with a shawl pulled tight around her shoulders.

“True love conquers all.” she whispered to the room. “... please oh please protect those boys.”

*******************

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