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#this is me being delusion that a crazy ass man like him can be grounded and changggeeeddddd
makismei · 1 year
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❝ INVISIBLE STRING
♡ gn!reader x fushiguro toji
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cw: established relationships, fluff fluff fluff!, piano playing reader, toji is annoying but you love him anyway, HE IS LOVESICK ! I BELIEVE HE IS A MAN WHO LOVES VERY DEEPLY FIGHT WITH THE WALL IF YOU DISAGREE
synopsis: he thinks he was always meant to find you
wc: 600+
notes from mei!
had fun with this one <333 it's been a min since i've written smth im so happy to be here rn! <3
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you feel him nudge the keyboard. you understand that playing on the bed isn't ideal, but your stool broke and you don't have the energy to fix it.
so you're here, taking up a good chunk of the bed, leg dangling over the side so you can use the pedal.
"babe, stop." you sigh, rolling your eyes as you restart the same bar for the third time. adjusting your headphones, you mess around with the headphone cord that is way too short, trying to put it in a spot that doesn't interrupt your playing.
"just take the damn headphones off, lady." you hear, although it's slightly muffled and the sound of the keys drown him out.
you suck in a breath, trying to maintain the rhythm. "can't."
a hand slithers its way to the power button and you can see his shit-eating grin. "toji."
he puts his hands up, grin widening when he sees you pull your hands from the keyboard, sliding your headphones off. "m'not doing anything, baby."
"seriously though, babe," you can't see it because your sheet music is covering it, but you know he's fidgeting with the headphone plug. "why d'ya need this?"
"so i can't hear you." you deadpan.
toji rolls his eyes. you sigh.
"i don't want you to hear it when it sounds bad." you say, sliding your headphones back on. "you can hear it when it's finished and memorized."
you continue on and all he hears are the plastic keys clacking, he watches your eyebrows furrow and your eyes move across the page.
eventually, a hand lifts to flip the page as the other continues dancing across the keys, and he thinks that he could do it for you if only he could hear what you're playing, it can't be that hard to flip a page.
but he watches, silently, because if he listens hard enough he can hear the music bleeding from your headphones. he can also hear the sound of you pressing the pedal too hard and your quiet breathing.
he thinks you're beautiful. he also thinks your playing is perfect.
every time he looks at you he thinks that everything he endured was worth it, because the further he traveled down that dark tunnel, the more he went wild and lost himself in bloodlust and greed, he found you.
he's still not sure how you both ended up in the same place at the same time, but he thinks it was fate and toji never believed in "outrageous shit like that," until he met you—his darling angel that he'd do anything for.
and now he's here—in your apartment that's too posh and neat for a rugged man like him, in a room with an open window, sunlight painting the white walls and he can hear children laughing—breathing in your scent and engraving your image into his memory because he absolutely can't and will never forget you.
toji likes to lie and says that he's a changed man now that he's met you. but he's still the same, rough edged, foul-mouth bastard and he knows it when he sees the pained look on your face when he's gone too far, listening to you cry and hating that he's on the other side of the door instead of being there next to you.
(he ends up there anyway, because he'd never want you to believe his words when he gets mad, cursing himself for not biting his tongue sooner).
but he knows, where he is right now is where he was always meant to be.
he can feel it and he wonders if he's going insane.
but he meets your gaze when you look up from your keyboard, a bashful smile slowly stretching on your lips and he couldn't care less if he was going crazy.
❝ and isn't it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?
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thecursedjazz · 2 months
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Postal 1 dude isn't evil (and is genuinely the most morally grounded and decent person we've actually met in the Postal Universe)
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From what we gather he was living a very normal life prior to going crazy, not like the other dudes who go on senseless rampages when tasked with mundane everyday things. As Promo material does state he's a well educated and mannered person so it's only realistic that this man did have a genuine job and was generating a level of income prior to his decline in mental health and moving to Paradise.
And as stated before he is well mannered in the sense of being stated a "quiet nice boy" and "voted the most likely to succeed". From what we gather this guy was the text book example of a model citizen. The only "flaw" is that he kept referring to a girl he only dated once as his girlfriend but even then that could come down his delusions along with his lack of grip on reality causing him to genuinely think she's his girlfriend or  the fact he's canonically quiet (as shown from the Promo material and also the fact that he doesn't actually physically speak AT ALL during the game) and most likely doesn't understand social ques as of it.
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But the most important thing is that he doesn't even have malicious intentions.
The very first thing he proposes after being "attacked" by "groups of lunatics trying to invade his home" is.....go the sherrif for help. The Dude didn't have any Intention to go on a murder spree, he'd rather of just went to the authorities like any other average Joe. The whole thing really tells us that he's not usually a violent person.
Even rewinding back to level one: the war journals (and Vince) did state that the Dude was entirely convinced that he was being attacked by group of lunatics, one of which even firing rockets at him, goes without saying that self defence is really the only option here.
Course it remains solely as self defence until the Dude reaches the train station, the significance being his war journal where he writes "if I can get out i can warn everybody...YES, I CAN WARN EVERYBODY!". The dudes goal has shifted into saving the country as a whole rather than himself which ultimately steers him into going to the air force to find out what has happened to cause the supposed hate plague. The dudes actions represent him more as selfless now with him now doing this in the bigger scheme of things rather than his own self preservation. If its not clear already: maniacs wouldn't care about warning/ saving people from a hate plague, Dude 2 most likely wouldn't give a shit and let it spread since he was totally cool with nuking the entirety of paradise and its innocent civilians.
Furthermore he openly states that he doesn't want to kill people. At the trailer park he writes that "There must be others like me, immune to this...germ warfare or whatever it is". Practically he's saying that he'd much rather run into some normal people instead of having to kill them, it's a stark contrast to the other dudes with the Postal 1 dude appearing as genuinely empathetic whereas the others will literally kill people for something as simple as waiting in line and afterwards not think anything of it.
Also very worth noting that when he enters the ghetto he mentions he's genuinely worried he'll get mugged, we're really getting the picture that he's literally just some normal ass guy with the idea of going to the rough side of town shakes him up.
(Even worth pointing out that only for the ghetto does he go back to calling it a diary like he's momentarily lost his soldier/war mentality at the thought of going into the rough side of town).
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So simple and short:
Postal 1 dudes literally just some average everyday guy (who's been through some really fucked up shit that's forever gonna remain unexplained beyond the veteran theory) who's trying to do the right thing but he's woefully misguided due to his deteriorating mental state as well as being possessed by an entity beyond his broken minds comprehension.
He's literally the complete opposite to every other postal dude (and if anything he's one of the most morally grounded people in the franchise as crazy as it is)
Oh and if this wasn't enough: rws did say on a twitter post that he's literally Just some average guy who's had some shitty days.
(I wrote this at 4am so soz if it's all over the place)
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shinygoku · 3 years
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gordon gordon gordon gordon
Gordon Gordon Gordon Gordon!!
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He's been sneaking into these asks by proxy, so it's finally time for his dedicated session, hehe~
First impression
WUAAAGH what's up with this WEIRD LONG NOT-THOMAS and his FACE?!
Impression now
His face is still pretty weird! But you know what else it is? Part of an Absolute Legend ✨
Like, man, Gordon is such a big presence and interesting character, the entire premise leans heavily on him. I'm inclined to go as far as to say that the Blue Boys of 1, 2 and 4 here are the three most important characters for the franchise (not at all to knock everyone else lmao) and they slot nicely into a Triforce of Courage, Wisdom and Power, and Gordon has Power in spades!
Gordon is The Vain One (not James!). He's legit very strong and the fastest on Sodor (which isn't just being a big fish in a small pond because that island has some crazy cool engines!) but unfortunately he lacks humility. His success seems to have been lodged in his head before the series even begins and this Pride is the source of pretty much every single conflict he's involved in.
But when it isn't his self satisfaction in his actions, it's being smug about being such a grand, magnificent Tender Engine and he is snooty as hell about it. He seems to look at smaller engines [pretty much everyone compared to him lol] as a lesser class, particularly if they're small and cheeky and Tank Engines. This may not be the case exactly, but his way of talking to them and some other things he says are very condescending.
However... as much as a gigantic jerk he is at several points, with Gordon I kinda feel like he plain ass doesn't conceive of his words being out of line. That and having to Unlearn things... he's not innately better than everyone else. He sees things in black and white. There are Useful Engines, and those who should be scrapped. There are Noble Tender Engines and Lesser Tank Engines who exist to do the tedious chores on behalf of the Superior ones. Edward doing shunting is seen as Demeaning and contradicts Gordon’s world view that Tender Engines Don't Stunt™, and he doesn't like that one bit! (Also Edward was crossing the picket line but that wasn't Awdry's concern lmao)
Related is Gordon does seem oddly dense at times, like assuming that Tenders are in of themselves a Status Symbol rather than a large lunchbox of sorts lol, or that Tender Engines like him being too heavy for Branch Lines being because something about Branch Lines are degrading. This might be all Elitist Brainwashing influence. But still, that he just takes these as The Truth means I get to affectionately call him an idiot. And there is no other way to explain how he genuinely believes Bill and Ben were going to murder him if he wasn't missing a few brain bolts in there.
Fortunately, he does eventually start to learn the important lessons.... very gradually, but the Early Gordon is a pretty different beast to Later Gordon, and it's wonderful~
Also, I gotta give credit to him for having some moments of utter brilliance and actual grasp of reality and more complex matters, like culture. (Yeah, I'm rolling with his geniune Opera Knowledge from s6 of all things. It's good!) As much as Awdry himself may have disagreed, Gordon was in the right to want a Station Pilot and the Strike was called for (not bullying Edward for it, but myeah) ...but this leads to my next point: He seems to have a mental block when it comes to Emotions.
Certainly, he's as emotional as the others are, it's not just a scale of Snooty, Arrogant, Condescending, Prideful ....well, it is, but ALSO the more mixed and varied feelings: Shame, Sadness, Fear, Ambivilance, Irritation, Anger, Passion, Amused, Delight and so on. However, Gordon is seemingly unaware of how his words may make the others feel, and even at his cruellest it doesn't look like he's aware he's twisting a knife in. To Gordon, he's being honest, but his verbose manner ends up twisting and wriggling away from any valid point like an overgrown vine that somehow links back to how [Other Engine] is disgracing him, Gordon, by association.
Examples include: Being offended by Henry's new shape (??? Gordon dude he nearly died and this is an improvement, a good thing!), saying that Edward's age and difficulty starting a heavy ass packed load of passengers is grounds to be Retired or even Scrapped, other little insulting things like calling the likes of Thomas and James Little insistently (it seems to vary if he's trying to put them down or actually be affectionate), and many more when in the hands of inept writers who have to wheel out the same Gordon Learns A Lesson Plot every other season.
Like I said in the James post, I also think he kinda poisoned the Red guy with his snooty attitude... but I maintain that I think Gordon was unaware of this. He may know he has Influence, and enjoy that, but he really truly doesn't appear to mean to mould James into a smaller, redder version of himself. He's oblivious and from his own point of view, benevolent. Which is in fact a dangerous combo indeed!
It's... a lot o7;;
Again though, if you're looking at the books and s1-s5 of TVS you can see him grow and change. He does take a while to learn the lessons, but as time goes on he moves 2 steps forward and 1 step back, then eventually less steps back entirely. It's great! And so is Gordon. A big dumb meathead with not entirely uncalled for delusions of granduer. A dramatic so-and-so who is the best engine for his job.
I love this sophisticated jock who grows more kindness~ 💙
Favourite moment
Hm! This isn't as easy to decide lol. We all like Gordon Goes Foreign... but you know what sticks in my mind more?
hOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHH
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Look, I’m not 100% objective, here! But Ringo’s read of this line is fantastic (and keeps making me expect him to finish saying OOOHH SHIT) and it’s also a well deserved bolt of divine retribution for how rude he was being earlier. (As long as my essay already was, he very much needed the knocking down of some pegs here!)
Idea for a story
While both my fics with him thus far have been variations of Pre-Canon, Full-Arrogance and Snobbish Gordon (and both were a lot of fun!) ...but I cannot bear the same expired horse being beaten more when the story is set waaay later but he’s still up his own ass. Please, PLEASE writers, let him hold what growth he’s managed to gain!
I think it’d be good to accept that he’s gonna be outdated sooner or later, so have him help train another High Speed Engine and take them under his wing. The Christopher Awdry books kinda have something similar with Pip and Emma, but I think a better way of having Gordon be involved would be if he was actively doing some mentoring himself, as well as being a neat parallel with Edward, whose type was once Express only but got outclassed by A1s, and so the same can happen to this big A1 -> A3 lad and he can form a healthy relationship with some bright eyed newbie (and maybe have some self awareness and try to stop their head getting too large, lol).
Unpopular opinion
I know I just said him mentoring would be a cool story idea, but in canon? He is NOT a resident Dad type!! He’s a hotshot young man but he’s also a hot mess. He’s physically large but he’s not got the Energy of someone who dispenses sage advice and a shoulder to cry on. At best, he’s a weird uncle! One who means well but you shouldn’t take his life advice to heart because he’s actually just as, if not more clueless than you!
Favourite relationship
I feel inclined to say Thomas here. Emphatically not because Gordon is ‘old’ and Thomas is ‘young’, but because they’re so damn alike and actually make an excellent, albeit unconventional type of Rivalry.
Both are self important with genuine finesse in their respective talents, both are honest to a fault, both have redeeming qualities to offset their initial abrasiveness, and the first TVS episode is centred on the both of them and sets the tone for the series as a whole. There’s more parallels, of course, but I also wanna point out they’re effectively the mascots of North Western Rail in universe too, and I absolutely love this picture:
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I also have immense fondness for the Down the Mine paradigm shift! Thomas gives Gordon grief over the ditch incident and later when it emerges the Fat Controller is gonna send for Gordon to pull him out, Thomas is filled with dread. But Gordon isn’t using the chance to lord over Thomas, he’s actually so amused by Thomas’ mishap and it coming at a time where he’s been significantly humbled, they instead become Comrades and I love it. I eat it up! Paint Pots and Queens isn’t anywhere near as good but I adore the little bit where they’re appealing for the other, equals and watching each other’s back~
But yeah, as Friendly Rivals they both feel very authentic and yet, in a daft way, sweet ;3
Favourite headcanon
He still says “Hurry, hurry, hurry!” when pulling the Express. That’s a HC as I think the show phased it out, but I like it lol. I feel like my essay on him contains most of the headcanon stuff, but it’s all based on what’s shown, baybee!
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allyvampirelass29 · 4 years
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To Love is To Hate
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A NOS4A2 Fanfiction By: Allyssa J. Watkins 
"Allyssa Manx...… Get in the car."
Charlie flung open the passenger door of the Wraith, his eyes like stoked embers, black, smoking coals, his voice as threatening as a blade's edge raised against his wife, and he arched an eyebrow, just daring her to defy him further.
"Charlie, no, please- Don't-" Ally begged, taking a terrified step back into the falling snow on the road, the flurried wind whipping her white nightgown around her legs that were red with cold. "I'm- I'm so sorry!!!! Please..... Forgive me!!!" She called out, trembling, the tears streaming down her frozen cheek.
"Oh you're sorry?" He shot back cruelly, his gloved fingers gripping the edge of the car door. "To which of her heinous sins, does this fallen angel confess? The Seduction, The Theft, or The Betrayal, itself?"
"Charles-"
"She seeks absolution, she cries out for mercy, and yet even in pursuit of her penance, cannot do what I have asked. I said..... GET IN MY CAR." Charlie demanded in a low growl, furiously throwing his other arm out gesturing her inside.
Ally felt her heart tremble, collapsing to her knees, deathly afraid of that wild fury that flashed in her lover's eyes, and she sobbed harder. "Please, don't hurt me."
"Hurt you? Hurt YOU?" He snickered cruelly, slowly dofting his chauffer's hat in her direction, with a mock bow. "What a performance, My Dear, Sweet Wife, when YOU have hurt ME something profound, with a deception most vile, playing the blushing bride, when all along you were the black widow!!!"
"No!" She screamed, shaking her head, fingers trembling.
"How CAN you deny it!?" Charlie snarled, balling his royal blue, flat-topped hat up in his gloved fists, before letting it fall from his fingers. "You LIED to me, you STOLE from me, you TRICKED me, aligning yourself with our mutual enemy, that vicious WRETCH Vic McQueen!!!!! Oh don't tell me...…. This was your plan all the time, wasn't it? From the beginning, you made play of love when you felt NOTHING!!!!"
Ally cried harder, sobbing from her fallen place in the snow, her dark hair falling in her eyes, as she cast her head down, ashamed. "How can you think that, Charles? How can you profane something as pure, as powerful and mad passionate as our love? The love fate decreed between us, authored in the stars before ever we existed!?"
"Pure!? This- This love is a poison, slowly killing me with its kiss of death, that I happily, foolishly, take from your lips. The draught drank, and I am done for, because even still I see you, I look at you, and I want you, My Murderess, even as you enact my demise, even as you have no love in your heart, for mine that dies with each breath for you!!!!"
"See, that's the kicker, you piece of SHIT, ain't nobody ever loved your sorry ass more than this girl, right here!!!!"
"Vic, NO!!!!" Ally cried, scrambling to her feet.
Charlie recoiled with the laughing sound of Vic McQueen's voice, and then froze cold as the blast shattered the Wraith's rear window.
"VIC, NOOOOOOOO!!!!! STOP!!!!!" Ally screamed out, stunned, horrified as Vic McQueen appeared with a vengeance on the snow covered road, her shotgun still aimed, and she discharged the empty shell, with a threatening click.
"Heya Charlie. You miss me?"
"VIC...…." Charlie was so livid he spat her name in a seethe, his teeth digging into his lip, making a pretense of perfect control, of haughty indifference, but all he wanted to do was make that girl BLEED. "How nice of you to join our nasty little marital spat, you of COURSE being the noxious weed in our Eden, you homewrecking, conspiring, hateful BITCH!!!"
"Yeah, what can I say, it sounded like a BLAST!!!" Charlie bristled as Vic pulled the trigger again, snow and gravel exploding just inches from his boots. "I may be a bitch, Charlie, but I'm the bitch with the shotgun, and if you don't want me to blast you to hell, you're going to let Harlequin Novel go, right freaking now."
"Vic, WAIT!!!!" Ally pleaded, looking faint.
"You DARE attempt to force my hand, Victoria!? Ally isn't going ANYWHERE. Not with you. She's not your friend. You may think you have bested me, turned her against me, created in my beloved, a backstabber, your own advantageous ally, but I am not the only one she has fooled. Isn't that right, Mrs. Manx?"
"Vic this WASN'T the plan!!!!" Ally pleaded, not sure which of them to shield from the other.
Charlie watched Vic's finger fidget on the trigger, knowing that his words had struck a chord, and all was as he'd suspected.
"Ally, GO, get the HELL out of here. I know this isn't how you wanted it, but it was never gonna end with that frickin' creepy bastard alive, and you KNOW it!!!"
"NO!!!!! You promised, Vic, you PROMISED!!!!" Ally pleaded with angry tears, feeling for the pen in her sleeve, and finding it was not there.
"You're free, ain't ya!?" Vic hissed, but Charlie could see she was distracted, and he waited carefully for his moment, all he needed was for her to look away, even once...….
"I don't want it, not like this!!! We had a DEAL, Vic!!! Dismantle this Nightmare World piece by piece, tear it asunder from his mind, but HE LIVES!!!! He stays mine!!!!"
That's it, My Dove, rage in a riotous display, distract her, divide her focus, yes....…." Charlie's mind coaxed, Ally seeming to obey, and with both of his obsessions turning on the other, neither noticed Charlie slowly ease himself down, and retrieve the pistol from his boot.
"Yeah, well, I'm changin' the deal, okay? You wanted outta here, I'm gettin' you out, along with the kids, whatever it takes!!! I'm not going to spare this sicko, just because you're lovesick over him, and have this crazed delusion of still getting your ever after once we've burnt his Christmas Hell to the ground!!!!"
Vic dropped the shotgun, with an anguished string of curses, and Ally let out another stunned scream, clapping her hand to her mouth, as the bullet grazed Vic's shoulder, staining her blue plaid button-up red with blood.
"CHARLIE NOOOOO!!!!!"
"If you girls are quite finished, I would like to save you both the trouble, and end this doomed partnership, as of, how did you say it, right freaking now? I can't have you both playing too nice, now, can I?"
Charlie smirked, pistol raised, his gloved finger drawing back the hammer once more, to shoot Vic in the chest, and end it, once and for all.
"Vic McQueen...…. I hereby exile you from Christmasland, and life itself. Burn in hell," Charlie simpered maliciously, and right when he was about to send her there, his beautiful brunette hurled herself in the line of fire, waving frantically.
"Charlie, NO, DON'T shoot!"
"Ally...…. Get OUT of my way." He rasped, watching Vic groan, holding her shoulder, and eye the felled shotgun.
"Charlie! Charlie, wait! Hold on!" Ally drew closer to him, and he felt himself hesitate.
"NO! My Darling, do not you see what she has done to us!? The lies she has infected you with, to twist you, even YOU, my pure, my innocent, my perfect beauty into something dark, something dangerous, raise you as weapon against your own true love!?! Who stands the true monster here!?"
"Still YOU, Jerkoff!!!"
Vic rushed for the shotgun, but Ally was closer, and quicker than Vic in her wounded state, and snatched it up to Charlie's rollicking delight.
"Good Girl!!!! My Clever Bride!!! Oh Ally, all is forgiven...…. If you shoot Victoria McQueen."
Ally looked at him greatly distressed, as Vic glowered over her shoulder, just daring either of them to try it.
"Charles! You dismay me! Do you think me capable of such evils as to take a life!? You accuse Victoria of transforming me into something deadly, but have you not done me this same turn, My Love?"
"Damn, she's got ya there, Manx!" Vic snorted, still holding her shoulder, blood squeezing through her fingers.
Charlie growled, pistol still aimed, his finger poised, but Ally clinging to the shotgun, was enough to give him pause.
"I'll go with you, Charlie, I'll get in the car, I'll never leave you again, I'll do anything you want, BE anything you want, just let her walk away from this! Don't be the soulless monster she thinks you are!!!!"
"Ally, HAVE you freaking LOST it!?" Vic yelled out, incredulous, her breath shallow, trying to determine if she could tackle Northanger Abbey down, before Manx got off a shot.
Charlie cocked his silky, raven head to the side, his pistol still cocked as well, one eye narrowed, everything in him screaming to release the bullet, and author Vic McQueen's long fought for demise, and yet he knew that once he'd done so, that sweet, darling, fragile creature that he'd come to love so much, the broken doll that he'd made a queen, would be lost to him for all of his eternity.
"On the contrary, Vic, I think Miss Ally has finally found it...……."
"Ally don't do this...… You're better than this, better than him, you just broke free, don't let him pull ya back in. Run. You don't have to watch me kill your Nightmare Man, all you have to do is RUN!!! Whatever happens after...…. it ain't your fault."
"Charlie...…. Can I come home?" Ally's whole body shook, still gripping the shotgun, her tears falling, and Charlie gritted his teeth, hating his answer."
"Yes, My Darling, I accept. Get in the car, and I won't kill her...….. not today, anyway."
"You can't!!! You delusional, ridiculous, damned crazy chick!!!"
Ally started towards Charlie, and then stopped, noticing the pistol was still pointed at Vic's chest.
"Charlie, please, put down the pistol, and I will come to you. We can go home, be as we were, and make play this ugliness, my own treachery included, did not transpire."
"You do love me, don't you?" He managed in a rasp, his thick brow quizzical, slowly lowering his gun, pushing the hammer forward, expertly uncocking it, pocketing it in his dark blue chauffeur's coat as she drew nearer. "Why else sacrifice yourself for my soul, give back the life you have risked so much to free from my grasp? It wasn't all a lie...…. was it?"
"It was none of it, a lie, Charles!" Ally insisted in heartsick, desperation, and he beckoned her forward, the aching truth evident in her soft, glimmering eyes. "I Love You, Charles T. Manx, and I surrender myself to your hands whether they mean for me affection or infliction. How gladly would I sacrifice my own freedom, if it meant the redemption of your once beautiful soul!!!!"
"GOD, shut-up already, you both make me sick," Vic muttered. You ditzy, doe-eyed STUPID girl, go ahead, run right back to the cat's claws, and see if I give a DAMN!!!! I'm DONE playin' hero to the doomed damsel that's so damned in love with her distress!!! Never shoulda teamed up with you, Ally, I see it now, you're WEAK and you WANT him to MESS you up, so fine. I give. I hope he makes you as miserable as he makes me!!!!"
"Now, now, don't fret on that account, Victoria. Misery is a privilege I reserve only for you, it's something sacred between us."
Charlie laughed with vicious mirth, tempted to seize Ally and wrest the shotgun from her hands, the moment she was close enough, yet for some ridiculous, inexplicable reason, he wanted to trust her. Trust that she was done scheming against him with Vic, and that she wouldn't blow a hole in his chest, point blank, instead of getting into the car.
She hurried to him, her loose, luxurious curls catching in the wintry wind, and he froze, warily, as she knelt down to pick up his fallen chauffeur's cap from the road, leaving the shotgun in its place. She lovingly placed it atop his rich black waves, returning the crown to her king, and he kicked the shotgun away, as she did so, still not trusting that she meant to come of her own conscious volition.
Door still open, he helped her into the passenger's side seat, and delicately kissed his queen's frigid cheek, before shutting the door tight. The second she was tucked away, safely inside, he shot a glance back to the road, still tempted to send a bullet screaming through Vic's beating heart. She was gone...... He'd had his chance to end this, to prove victor over Meddlesome Victoria, at last. He'd wasted it. Wasted it like a fool on love. But as he watched his recaptured dove settle back in the seat, knowing she'd not fly free of her cage ever again, he smiled smugly to himself with the revelation he'd made the better trade.
His eyes moved back to the spot where she'd stood, imagining the way the bullet had scraped across her shoulder, the blood staining her shirt red.
"Until next time, Victoria...….. I have taken back my love, and soon, very soon, you vexing vixen, I shall have you as my vengeance. Who says a man cannot have his wife, and play with his hate too? I'm not finished with either of you yet...… To love one is to hate the other, and oh what fun...… to see you both become loved and hated by me.
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fanficaficionado · 3 years
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okay, i know i said i would be starting with things i knew and loved. hell, i even had a fic from the fandom im currently ass-deep in all lined up!! but then i procrastinated, and i lost motivation, got distracted by my scheduled post-holiday shutdown, and something else finally kicked my ass into gear. so this blog's first true introduction to the world will not, in fact, be a post where i worship the very ground my favorite fic writers walk upon.
no, today we are talking about Ascent into Madness by cesium_sheep
((spoilers, obviously))
Now im going to preface this by saying that this criticism is subjective and based in my opinion. I did genuinely enjoy this story, and i did not at any point feel the urge to launch myself into the sun with nothing but the pure force of my rage, causing the sun to explode and consume planet earth in a scorching hell-blast and decimating all life on our tiny little space rock, which even some of my favorites are guilty of because in some stories characters just love to waffle about ((especially in my preferred reading material which puts romance at a very significant focus)). This story just isn't for me.
I'm going to explain why, and believe me when i say i am being as gentle as i physically can with this story because it is not objectively offensive to my very being, It's a good read and setting aside the problems i have with it i enjoyed it.
I keep repeating that i don't hate this story because i do not want to be accused of baseless hate, not because of reputation or anything but because being accused of something i know i didn't do sets off the same sensation that i get from rubbing my fingernails on egg cartons, the one of the back of my brain being assaulted by the mayonnaise-coated fingers of satan himself. Damn i should really get to the criticism before this just becomes an in depth description of my very soul's adverse reaction to the cream in queen anne chocolate cherries.
anyways.
The thing about this story is that, to me, it feels.. unfinished. Or at the very least like it wandered off its intended course. It leaves me with a feeling of mild dissatisfaction and the taste of confusion in my mouth. I think this problem is best summarized by the fact that, in the first chapter, it is set up that rose is in some sort of hospital, and that dave thinks she is in the grasp of some delusion, and the second chapter sets up the retroactive explanation for how it got to this point. See, what i expected was to be caught up to that point in the story, reach that point in time again, and then progress from there.
But that first chapter?? With the hospital, the delusions, the brick through the window with the radio attached?? Never brought up again, not even once. It is completely discarded and never even thought about. The story even stops trying to set up that scene after a certain point.
To put it in homestuck terms, because i'm a loser, a time player, and come on we're talking about a homestuck fic here you know i have to do this, it feels like we started a loop and then branched off the alpha timeline so completely we aren't even a part of the metaphorical timeline-tree anymore. It nags at my brain man, it's one of the main things that fuelled my motivation in writing this. It feels lost and wandering and it confuses me in a bone deep sorta way.
The second thing that gets to me is the complete lack of information presented about what, exactly, the fuck is going on. I have no idea how we got from point A to point B, not just because it completely disconnects from point A not even halfway through, but also because there's a lot of plot threads thrown in haphazardly and then never extended upon. There's a mention of jake and john's respective guardians knowing something about the story's big bad and all the mystical bullshit that follows along behind him, but that is never followed up on even a little. No one questions why they know, despite this information being so rare that literally only two families and a single group of aliens seem to have access to it. It just is a thing and then whoops, hand musta slipped because that bad boy is out the window and is facing the combined nonexistent mercy of gravity and this ten story drop.
The main plot has this same problem, in feeling like you get just enough info to keep it going forward. There's a sword in rose's umbrella basket or whatever the hell it's called, and it's implied a future dave put it there for his past self, but do we get confirmation that it was him?? Do we see that loop completed?? No, it is just used as a driving force for rose to try and push the fact that dave's got Timey powers. It feels like i'm being pulled by the hand through this story because it only gives just barely enough information to keep this crazy train rolling and then goes so far as to leave fucking time loops hanging there incomplete which okay i might be getting a little peeved about that but can you blame me?? Can you really blame me at all??
Maybe i am judging the plot too harshly, after all i was forewarned not to read for the plot in the summary because it's pretty slow and wandering. So let's get into something else then, yes?? Let's hop to the relationships.
The relationships, too, fall prey to this complete lack of any meaningful focus on any piece of information ever. I'd swear the writer was allergic if that didn't seem too harsh a description. It's a whole lot of telling without any showing, a cardinal sin in writing. We get a conversation with kanaya that doesn't suffer the disconnect from all things that the rest of the story seems haunted by. It's actually really a neat little conversation and i find it kind of wholesome how kanaya talks about rose and i personally think this interaction to be entirely too short. Then kanaya mentions karkat and apparently there's some of davekat's standard romantic tension happening off-screen because dave starts to get flustered and ponders what that means. And once again a plot thread is thrown to the winds because we never get another whiff of it.
Actually on the topic of davekat, dave just naturally gravitates to karkat and then they're stuck together like glue, so stuck in fact that dave dies for karkat because dave apparently forgets the golden rule of "If you have time to jump in front of someone then you have time to push them out of the way" and then ignores the added bit i spitefully wrote on the ancient stone tablet of Things That Make Sense in neon orange sharpie that says "Especially if you have time to have a discussion about your choices with an ambiguously-dead girl. Pull your thumb out of your ass, dave, nobody has to die here, magic option number three was not the one you picked."
Of course, this is a fanfiction, these are characters i already know. I know how these characters would interact, i know how their relationship develops in-canon and i know that given the chance these fuckers become goddamn inseparable. But that doesn't excuse the fact that it is all tell and no show, we dont see how it gets from "You're one of the only familiar faces in a group of strangers and i am not about to start interacting with new people unless i have to" to "Here let me die heroically for you and then be revived for no explainable reason besides Because The Wizard Of God Says So." I have no reason to be invested in this or even give a half-ounce shit despite it literally becoming something that the climax hinges on. And then rose and kanaya are just inexplicably,, together?? Right at the end?? And while i am happy that the lesbians get to be in love everything is off screen and nothing is ever explained, not even like one time, and god it's just so confusing. I am so confused.
But again, maybe i'm being unfair, once again the very tags of this fic are telling me that the relationships are not the focus and only really tagged so people can filter it out. I suppose i should judge the characters, then.
From what i remember there are sixteen characters, excluding ((who i believe to be, as it is once again not explained or explicitly stated to be)) caliborn at the end, with speaking roles. Five of those characters retain any narrative relevance for more than a nanosecond. A good chunk of the trolls arent even mentioned by name, with eridan and i think sollux being mentioned, and who i think to be sollux speaks when rose and dave are first brought to the trolls' apartment but again, the fog of uncertainty clouds all things and i don't have my handy dandy leafblower on me to airblast that shit out of my way. Of the five characters with any focus on them, two are relegated to the role of supporting character, with karkat joining that number more often than not. That leaves us with dave and rose, who are ultimately as a whole unaffected by their experiences. They do not learn anything, they do not grow or change. Sure rose freaks out about her perception of reality, but that falls flat because it's more tell and no show again. Dave freaks out, as he rightfully should in this situation, but there is no arc. There is no significant change in anything but moving toward the boss fight with the big baddie.
There aren't any particularly interesting interactions between these characters, either, i cannot recall one time in which i laughed, or felt much of anything really. They all fall into a state of Existing while also feeling like they aren't doing a whole lot. It's more noticeable in retrospect but these characters just Do Not feel alive, they seem incredibly flat at times and it's hard to notice while you're reading but looking back it stands out so painfully and it makes me very sad.
If i'm not supposed to read for the plot, and i'm not supposed to read for the relationships, and i can't read for the characters, then what is this story meant to be read for?? The only other thing i can think of is the mystery and sorry pal, but that's a plot, which we have already established doesn't really have a whole lot going for it because while your mystery sure is there it is currently stinking up that rug you shoved half the answers under because those mysteries aren't the ones you want to focus on.
Is it simply meant to pass the time?? Is there no deeper purpose besides keeping yourself entertained as the hours tick by?? Because if so, it at least accomplished that. Despite its faults, it kept my attention for the entire fifty one chapters, and it passed my time.
There are other nitpicks i have, but that's more based around the writing style on a more technical level. The chapters are too short for my personal taste, and there are far too many cliffhangers, these things i will not condemn as the writer gave a good reason for the latter and obviously no writer is obligated to churn out 2,500 words per chapter unless they damn well want to.
Ultimately, this story is neither good nor bad. It is straightforward in that it burns any other plot threads besides the main one on the sacrificial alter of The Writer Does What The Writer Wants, it's a bit too ambiguous and under-explained for my tastes, but there is nothing egregiously offensive in it. It is a story that exists. I wouldn't read it again, but i wouldn't not read it again, and i don't even come close to regretting the time i spent reading it ((outside of the fact that it is currently almost nine am and i haven't slept but that one is my own fault)).
I scrolled passed this story in its beginnings, assuming it would not be particularly mindblowing, and now that i've read it i know that i was entirely correct. Read it if you want, or don't, just don't go in expecting something life changing. I suggest picking out a spot on your schedule where you have nothing to do and will no doubt be bored out of your mind. I sincerely doubt you'll regret it.
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Tales from Peter Parker Foreign Exchange Student: Scorpion and the hunt for the Hero killer
Somewhere in the Naruhata district, in one of the many condemned buildings in the area is currently being resided by the infamous villain team, the Sinister Six!
A group consisting entirely of Spider-mans rogues formed under an always-consistent even number. Though its members have rotated there burning hatred of the arachnid hero remains the same. Mysterio, Chameleon, Shocker, Sandman, Scorpion and Vulture are the current members of the group. Currently they are residing in the land of the Rising Sun as a favor to Mysterio involving an as yet unspecified plot for lucrative gain. Yet unbeknownst to the Sinister Six, Spider-man is also stationed in Japan as a student of U.A. High. Eventual a collision of rivals will occur, for now the members of the Six explore there new surrounding some partaking in extracurricularactivities.
Mac Gargan, alias the Scorpion looking is over a large board. On it is pinned with various newspapers and several threads crisscrossing each other like a web.
"Scorpion!" The vulture shouted from above as he descends besides Scorpion.
"What do you want Toomes?" Scorpion asked annoyed having his concentration broken.
Vulture sneered at Gargans dismissive tone.
"Our meeting with the local crime informant, Giran has been rescheduled for now Dmitri suggest we should acclimate to our new surrounding." Impatient to a response, the Vulture makes a quick turn around to see Scorpion still ignoring him.
"The least you could do Mac is make some conversation, what on earth are you researching 'Hero Killer'" Vulture scans the papers.
"Yeah its about this crazy who's been going around offing heroes or injuring them bad towards early retirement." Scorpion explained turning towards Vulture finally.
"And what offer him membership Macdonald, were already at max capacity of sociopaths with you in our group we don't need another one." Vulture mocked.
"Very funny jack-ass, but this ain't about recruitment."
"Than what exactly?"
"The WHY?" Scorpion responded to Vulture.
Vulture seemed perplexed but he reminds himself that Scorpions logic always made sense to his twisted mind.
"Every article is always the same, always asking the wrong questions." He continues.
"Who is he? How is he doing this? When will the Pro heroes stop him, (spit)." Scorpion mocked.
"No one ever asks the 'why' of his motives that's the real story the real scoop." He grins.
"Imoressive, if a bit pointless but he's a serial killer Gargan not much to glean from that. Said Vulture.
"These ain't no random killing Toomes this guy clearly has a conviction and its kinda bringing the detective side out of me, THERE!" he motions his tail on the map as he walks past Toomes grabbing his coat and hat.
Toomes looks at the city map Scorpions tail banged on the board as he sees the mark on the city, Niihama.
Its soon night in the city of Niihama, with Scorpion staking out on rooftop. Several food wrappers and soda cups are littered around him as he peers across the landscape with his binoculars. On his left a crude yet working customized police radio is broadcasting your standard police reports, all noise to his ears waiting purely for calls towards Pro heroes.
"Hrrm, what was it that Kraven always said 'to become the hunter you must think like your prey.' Scorpion recalled internally.
"This should be the place that 'Hero Killer' was last scene and knowing these 'heroes'. Scorpion said with a venomous tone at that last word.
"Them Pros will be rushing off during a crisis, I just need wait for one them to wander off into a dark alleyway and that's when Mr. Herokiller will strike."
Eventual a hero team burst into the scene as they begin a rescue operation by a nearby burning building. One of the heroes note something in an alleyway as she ventures alone.
"Bingo" Scorpion said elated.
Sometime later
Limping and bleeding out, the female hero costumed in a beetle inspired design finds herself exasperated and panic as the Hero Killer approaches. Garbed in an attire of a ninja, with mixture of red and black while his face is covered in several bandanas no doubt to reel in his unruly hair. He slowly moves in a katana in hand as he licks the blood from blade. The heroe's movements are quickly frozen in place unable to move desperately crying to herself
"Why can't I move?!" She screamed hoping her panic tears would be heard.
As she finds herself face first to the ground she can see the killer ready to thrust the blade until…
"HEY!" shouted the Scorpion across the alley as Stain looked up to see the yeller.
Reacting without thought, Stain quickly throws one of his daggers with almost lighting speed. However the Scorpion quickly counters with his mechanical tail sending the blade back as it pass his owners face right by the side of the wall. Unfazed, Stain held his ground staring at this stranger.
"Oh thank you hero please save me fro-"
"Shut up, I ain't here to save nobody especially some Beetle poser." Scorpion insulted as he cut her off using his tail to knock her out.
"I came to see you ' Hero Killer!'
"My business is not with you villain, leave me to my work or I share her fate." The killer threaten.
"Oh I ain't here to stop ya pally, I'm just a simple foreigner is all, I just got ask ya something is all." Scorpion explained.
The Hero Killer saw no ill intents from this stranger yet he could feel his aura of treachery and insanity lurking behind that false sense of camaraderie. For now he played along in order to gauge this new face.
"Very well foreigner, I am Stain ask your question and leave me to my mission."
Scorpion was a bit taken back by this 'Stain' character and pissed off. How dare he makes threats to me, Scorpion thought. But he remembers to keep his cool, he's Mac Gargan the detective first and Scorpion second on this case.
"Okay Stain, the names Scorpion." He introduced.
"I've been looking ya over for some time now trying to figure your M.O. all them heroes you killed or injured no relations what so ever. Yet one thing is common there all heroes. Its clearly not about the money, no real motive for payback and clearly puck and choose who lives and dies." Scorpion explained trying to inflate his ego as a detective.
"GET TO THE POINT!" Stain grew impatient.
Scorpion frowned holding back his gritted teeth from showing from Stains yelling.
"I was getting to that 'friend'." Said Scorpion losing his demeanor.
"Why? What are trying to accomplish offing off these loser heroes?" Scorpion asked in a serious tone.
Stain smiled a cold smile as he sheathed his sword.
"You are correct, I seek no monetary gain nor have these so called 'heroes' wronged me in the past." Stain confirmed Scorpions deduction.
"I seek out the false heroes that solely use there powers for wealth and fame, putting the needs of the people second for there own ambitions while ignoring there obligations as public servants first." Stain explains.
"Its an insult that they call themselves heroes, I have made it my mission to cleanse this world of false heroes, I will never stop for only All Might is worthy of the title hero! Only his sense of justice will I allow to bring about my defeat!" Stain continues as he slowly ramps up his rant.
"Does that answer your curiosity?"
Scorpion felt a bit taken back by the hero killer almost as if Stains aura swallowed him whole, trying to hold his ground Mac composes himself taking a quick breath to ease his nerves.
"And people say I'm crazy." Scorpion mocked.
Stain narrowed his eyes at Scorpion, annoyed by his flippant tone.
"Listen I hate these wannabe heroes as much as the next guy, but at the end of the day no chump can just live off good will and samaritan service."
"People gotta eat, pay taxes and all that other bureaucratic crap we can't all live up to that high horse ideal of the perfect hero crap, so you can stick your bull% $# college thesis up your $$ pally loser!" Scorpions retorted.
"Thanks for wasting my time." Scorpion walks away as he turns his back spitting at a trash can in a disrespectful manner as he makes a leap to the neareat fire escape ladder.
"Come back please, DON'T LEAVE ME!" The pro hero awakens begging for Scorpions help.
"F $# OFF LOSER!" Scorpion continues move on unmoved by the heroes cries.
"Foreigner villain, what does he know of our way in the end they will all learn." As he prepares to lunge his blade, Stain halts his action as he hears the voices of the oncoming team members of his victim closing in. Disappearing without trace he says to himself.
"Another time a different place, perhaps I'll visit Hosu."
Back at the rundown apartment, an enraged Scorpion storms the front entrance annoyed and pissed off.
"So how did it go?" Vulture said with a dry uninteresting tone.
"Pretentious looking ninja turtle with f #$ing delusions of grandeur!" Scorpion replied with a pissed off attitude.
"Sounds lame, you kick his ass?" Sandman asked.
"No"
"You steal his wallet?" Asked Shocker concerned.
"No!" Scorpion said again.
"So in other words a complete waste of time and effort, I'll be needing a receipt for your purchases." Chameleon prioritizing his funds.
"F $# off you losers, it wasn't all total loss." Scorpion grinned.
"Oh so their was a silver lining to this wasted ordeal of yours than?" Mysterio echoed behind his dome.
"People always underestimated me thinking I'm just some joke like you dorks, (except you Sandman.)" Sandman responds with a middle finger.
"But this event just reminded me, I'm still a damn good detective!" Scorpion unveils several headshot photos of different pro heroes.
"I've got a lot of dirty secrets to expose on these "so called heroes" and what better practice is there than in Japan!" Scorpion said ecstatically.
—–
Based on Tumblr @alexdrawsagain comic
Peter parker: foreign exchange student
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polygamyff · 5 years
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Wiping the sweat with the towel, grabbing my bottle of water from the running machine. I always can do with a nice run and some gym work to get that pent up anger out of me, not like having sex with Naomi helped at all. All she does is pick out positions that will get her pregnant, we have been doing this year after year and nothing. My family don’t know but we have been going to see a specialist and been trying like crazy, it’s got to a point where I don’t care for it anymore, she had the nerve to blame me so today we find out if it is me. She got me so angry on this, I was heated. Walking up the steps of my home, seeing as it is Kellen’ wedding I am staying put for this, I have to actually interact with family. I am still doing work of course, I am just working on the go. Business is business, shit needs to go on. Placing my towel over my shoulder “here she goes again” I said to myself, she playing Toni Braxton again, that stupid song. If she is that unhappy the door is there but no, she won’t let me be free. I need her to leave me, it’s annoying but I then feel bad because I have become accustomed to her, she knows business comes first. She doesn’t whine about if I need to go, but I can only assume she doesn’t whine but my mom telling me a whole different story. Pushing the double doors open to my bedroom, staring Naomi singing he wasn’t a man enough for me, is she on her cheating vibe again. Kissing my teeth walking towards the bathroom, let me leave her to it.
Locking the car door as we walked towards the clinic, this shit is so expensive for her to not be pregnant. Feeling Naomi latch onto my hand ever so quickly, affection. Something I really lack, I have grown up very loveless because I never witnessed it, I think it broke my heart when my dad sold me off like this but yet chose the woman he wanted. Even though my mom is like twenty years younger than his old ass, he is a pervert “I am nervous Maurice, we will work through this won’t we?” pushing the door open “as we do Naomi, what else” it’s rather shameful in many ways that she can’t have a baby, people are awaiting. I am turning thirty and married for five years. Not a single baby at all, shit is wrong with her not me. She is deep down hiding things about her fertility, this is the second appointment I have come too “hi, Naomi Davenport” my wife said to the receptionist, clenching my jaw feeling heartless in a way. I am turning into my dad “please take a seat, she will be with you” I wish Naomi would leave my hand alone.
Checking my emails, there is always shit going on. Making these hotels run, making sure we are always developing. I have set my eyes on Dubai, my dad has gave me his word and said this is all on me. In a way I feel this is a test, he is waiting for me to break but I won’t let that happen. I won’t let him break me, I will ride this through until he dies and I am done. I am sure he will be dead soon “great news” I said to myself “what is?” Naomi said bringing her head closer to mine “oh just the Dubai deal, it came through. You know when you assumed I was cheating as you do everyday, I was doing this” Naomi scoffed moving back from me “it’s not that, you go to these business events and I saw pictures of you with women, I got jealous. Sue me, you didn’t even invite me, your wife” looking back at my phone “you was with daddy, remember” she is funny, ain’t shit either “Mrs and Mr Davenport, please come through” looking up at the nurse, locking my phone as I got up. The nurse dead ass checked me out but she don’t want me.
Who wants to see a doctor, I hate them. I hate coming to them because they always tell you everything that is wrong with you. Nothing is ever good for you “Mr Davenport. Your results came back” still gets me angry, acting like I am firing blanks. I know my babies can swim, fuck everyone “good, so they good?” I said so confidentially “well yes, your sperm count is fine. We can now rule this out now, this was the last thing to come about. With Mr Davenport being busy” Naomi shot up, she ran out of the room and I am guess in tears. Staring at the doctor, I don’t know what is happening “why is she upset?” I asked, the doctors stuttered as if she did not want to say a word about it “it’s my wife, so please. I want to know before I leave this room” I said in a very stern tone “Mr Davenport, we have been seeing Naomi for years. This is the second time we have met, you was the last thing and I am sorry. I know it’s something she does not want to know, she may have had a miscarriage but she got lucky with that baby” licking my lips frowning “she knows this already, I am shocked she never said. I think maybe the miscarriage has made her think things, we have done everything. She can’t have babies” I froze staring at this unknown woman knowing more about my wife than me “wait” I pointed at her “hold up, what do you mean she knew?” shaking my head in shock “she knew for years she couldn’t have babies, the miscarry gave hope and” the doctor sighed heavily “she demanded we test you” so all these years, she knew it and lied to me constantly.
I am not sure how to feel, I am angry, hurt. There is so many feelings in this, like why did you lie “you waited” she closed the doctor’s office door “well we ain’t about to leave, you hiding shit away from me” stuffing my hands in my pockets, the doctor has let us use the room to speak but I am angry right now “like what?” now she wants to act stupid “please don’t do this, you made the doctor take my sperm to test when you fucking couldn’t have kids! You fucking knew all these years but you made me think you could, who fucking knows? Who knows you can’t? This is fucking crazy, so you never had periods? I bought you tampons, this was all lies. Are you kidding me?” I am trying to keep my cool, Naomi placed her hands together as she cried to me “what? Speak up, I want to hear this” a sob left her lips “I assumed why, you really didn’t want me to come anyways. Not like I cared but you didn’t want me to come, and now I know why” Naomi ran towards me, gripping my tee “you can’t tell anyone this, my dad don’t know. My mom does, please! He already thinks I am useless, I knew for years I couldn’t but I was scared, I didn’t want to lose you. I already feel I have, this will top it off, please I beg you, don’t use this to divorce me. I will kill myself” yanking her arms away from me “you know how fucking crazy you sound? You acting like what you just told me is minor? I have my family on my case for a fucking baby! And you can’t even have it” I am so angry “we can adopt, make out like it is ours. Use your sperm and impregnate a woman in secret, just please. Don’t leave me” gripping Naomi by the throat “lies after lies after lies, this. You fucked my life up knowing you couldn’t, you don’t understand and never will” pushing her back by the throat.
I don’t even want her to be in the car but here she is “does this change a lot?” I live with a mental woman, she is mental and I have decided “a fucking lot, you lied about having a baby? Wow, you got married and made me assume you could? Why? You fucked my life up as well as yours” she is crazy fucking stupid “Maurice please listen to me, I have always liked you. I really do love you, if you leave me and they all find out I can’t have a baby. I will be a nobody, I am the only child. I will kill myself over you, remember that” clenching my jaw, hitting the steering wheel “don’t fucking touch me!” snatching my arm away “don’t, I need space ok” this is all so much for me, it’s like she is stuck in this delusion. Even now, she is making up bullshit about getting a kid still. The fuck is she playing at, I truly believe she would kill herself too. I am so fucking angry, her mother knows this the stupid bitch left me with her. I don’t know what to do now, I am stuck.
Naomi has truly ruined this whole night with my cousin, I can’t even think straight. I just want to drink it away, I am just staying by the bar so I can keep getting refills. I mean it all adds up but they knew, if I tell my family I mean this is my ticket out but maybe it won’t be. I can imagine the sick mind of them, they will make me stay and then also keep it a secret. Probably adopt some random to be mine, if that bitch kills herself that will be my fault too. I can’t fucking win, slamming the glass down on the bar top “I thought you was coming over?” Shawn sat by me at the bar “I said I was, leave me alone bro” looking over at bartender, I want another drink “look, we said that this was going to be a good night. Fuck the family and everything, our nigga getting married” slight jealously hit me, he gets to marry a girl he dated. God forbid I did, have to think of the family line “I wish I wasn’t the eldest” holding the empty glass in my hand “Kellen is funny, he marries who he wants. While his daddy is living on the money we make. I suffer, now I am totally stuck” I couldn’t help myself, throwing the glass across the the bar in front of me getting up “shit, Maurice. We will pay” walking off, I need to leave because I am not in the right mind.
Flicking the cigarette to the ground “calm now?” Shawn followed me, I don’t need him or anybody else “I keep telling you to just leave” shaking my head laughing “leave? I wish it was that easy, I am not upset about the set up. I don’t give a fuck anymore, I don’t have heart to care but I am angry at this” looking around us “so that bitch, we went to the appointment. You know the shit I don’t go too but she always says that is fine, remember I said to you it’s weird, it takes two. I thought she needed my sperm to do it, well guess. It’s all been a joke, she never could get pregnant. I am not even sure the miscarry was real now, she knew for years. She has just gone crazy in the mind, creating scenarios. I have the gate way out but she said she will kill herself” Shawn turned around placing his hands over his face “no way!” he half shouted “so” he turned back to me “all this time of trying, there really is no heir. You’re stuck in this for nothing, now I know that crazy bitch will do it. You stuck” my life is not mine, it’s crazy “she wants to stay married to you, what makes you think you can’t have a second life. She ain’t stopped you, get your own heir” shaking my head laughing “I will be one broke person, the will be heir to nothing. My dad needs to die, then I can have it. Divorce her and be gone with it” Shawn stared at me dumbfounded “do this shit now! Leave her” he doesn’t understand it “while my dad is alive he still has the rights to take it off me, he needs to be dead. Once he is dead, I get the things and she is gone. The one thing I am worried about is this heir shit, they putting pressure on this. I get it’s a family name that needs to last” Shawn has been my nigga since day one “let Malik take it” I swallowed hard “leave this for what Shawn? I am better off here, dead marriage and a business. I will deal, I will get over it” I will do what I usually do, go back to work after this little event “I wish shit was different for you, there is too many twists in your story” Shawn is just watching it but imagine living the nightmare.
Walking to Kellen, I need to be nice and happy for him “you calm now?” he shouted over the music “yes I am, I am always calm” Kellen got his hand out to me, grabbing his hand and hugging him “you know I respect you, you’re the main guy. The main busy cousin, I just want you to stay” moving back a little “what makes you think I won’t stay?” Kellen shrugged knowing I would run, wish I did that on my wedding “for you I will stay, lets turn up and have fun. Tomorrow your life will start for you” catching Malik’ glare, we used to be so close. I mean we still are but because I run away from the family then I don’t stay close to him, I think deep down my brother knows my hate towards everything but I will let it go. Do what I need to do, like a robot I guess.
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spooky-ghostwriter · 5 years
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Dressed to Kill - Chapter Nineteen
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A man fidgeted with the lowest button on his lab coat. Being a new employee at the facility, he was still not used to wearing them on a regular basis. He was proud to work at such a prestigious institution; the Cypress Laboratory was known across the nation for being leagues above anyone else in biotechnology and medical advancement. Still, he couldn't help but be uneasy at the sight before him.
His superior was a tall, pale man, and his piercingly green eyes stared through the new researcher like spears.
“Is there something wrong, Mr. Richards?” Garrick asked. “Do you need a different size of lab coat?”
“N-no, sir.”
“This is Specimen Delta,” Garrick explained, ignoring Mr. Richards and speaking to the dozen or so similarly-uniformed men and women around him. “We've found that she has a distinct resistance to a deadly parasite commonly found in the Australian outback. We aren't able to determine whether it's something in her blood, genetics, or perhaps related to skin tissue. All we can say for sure is that there is something that makes this woman special, and it's up to everyone here to figure out what that is.”
The group of researchers looked amongst themselves, with various expressions ranging from intrigue to concern.
After far too many seconds of silence, Mr. Richards decided his curiosity outweighed the disturbing stares of Garrick and raised his hand timidly.
“Yes, Mr. Richards?” Garrick asked.
“W-why is she in a straitjacket?”
Behind Garrick was a dark room, almost empty. There was no furniture, and the walls were completely featureless. The only thing in the room was Tsukiko Tanner, her arms restrained in a fashion that looked like she was hugging herself.
“That was my first question too!” Tsukiko shouted angrily, wriggling her arms as best she could. “Why am I in a straitjacket?!”
“Specimen Delta is a psychiatric patient,” Garrick said simply. “She is prone to delusions, hallucinations, and occasional bouts of violence. The restraints are necessary for her own safety – and for ours. It is also highly recommended that you do not take anything she says at face value.”
The researchers nodded in acceptance. Even Mr. Richards gave Tsukiko nothing more than a sympathetic expression.
Tsukiko ran through everything she could possibly tell the people in front of her to make her believe that she was, in fact, not delusional. Unfortunately, there was nothing that she pictured working properly.
What's something that a non-crazy person would say, that doesn't sound exactly like what a crazy person would say?
“I understand this may be uncomfortable for many of you,” said Garrick. “But rest assured, if we can determine what makes Specimen Delta unique, countless lives will be saved.”
He pressed his hands together.
“Ladies and gentlemen, let's get to business.”
Stage magic was not a career one would normally take if they had personal space issues. Tsukiko had seen diagrams of tricks being performed by cramming multiple performers in incredibly tight spaces, videos of magicians putting their hands on audience members' shoulders to distract them while they slipped playing cards into their pockets, and even allowed audience members to tie them up for escape acts.
Tsukiko began to wonder if she had personal space issues that she should work on for the sake of her show, or if this was simply more than anyone would be comfortable with. Whichever case it was, Tsukiko was firmly not comfortable.
At any given moment, she had at least three doctors touching her. One poked a cotton swab in her mouth and rubbed it against the inside of her cheek. Another held her arm against the armrest of her seat. A third wrapped a tight rubber band around her forearm.
“Wait, no – ”
The former cheek-swabber stuck a syringe in her arm and withdrew some blood. Tsukiko clenched her teeth and fists.
“Do you really need that much?” Tsukiko demanded.
The researcher didn't reply, but finally removed a rather full tube, then pulled out the syringe. Tsukiko winced even more as the needle was extracted.
“I know Garrick told you I was crazy, but you can still be nice to crazy people,” Tsukiko muttered.
“Sorry,” said the man who Tsukiko had learned was named Mr. Richards. Something in his voice and face told Tsukiko he meant it.
Maybe not everyone here was so bad – and more importantly, maybe they had information.
“So what do you guys research?” Tsukiko asked. “Besides Australian parasites, of course.”
Not that I've ever been to Australia, she thought.
“All sorts of things,” said Mr. Richards, holding Tsukiko's blood sample up to the light. “All biological. My group has been doing a study on genetically modified pumpkins. Not the most interesting thing in the world, I suppose.”
“No, it's plenty interesting. Ow,” Tsukiko added as a researcher plucked one of her hairs. “What were you trying to make the pumpkins do?”
“Should we take one of her blonde hairs too?” Someone asked.
“Do not touch the streak,” Tsukiko warned. “It's just dye anyway.”
“One hair,” Mr. Richards promised. Before Tsukiko could accept or reject the offer, one of the other jerks in lab coats pulled out a blonde hair.
“I said don't touch the streak! Jesus. Want an eyebrow hair too, while you're at it?” Tsukiko asked.
Someone plucked one of her eyebrow hairs.
“Ow! That was rhetorical, you ass.”
“Well, uh, to answer your question,” Mr. Richards muttered, trying to divert Tsukiko's attention. “The main goal is to make pumpkins grow bigger and give them protection from insects and other things that might destroy crops.”
“That's it?” Tsukiko blurted. “You're not making them move or bite people?”
All of the researchers gave Tsukiko a confused look, then began to murmur amongst themselves.
Okay, brain, Tsukiko asked herself. Where were you on that one?
“Er... no, no we're not,” said Mr. Richards, in a tone of voice like a condescending pat on the head. “That's, uh, an interesting idea, though.”
The researchers took Tsukiko through several more tests, and they seemed less interested in conversation after Tsukiko's pumpkin comment. It wasn't long before she was staring up at the ceiling of an MRI machine, listening to the loud whooshes of magnets or whatever was inside the machine.
Okay. Now that I can no longer convince these guys that I'm sane, let's work on a new problem, Tsukiko decided. How did I get here?
Tsukiko thought back to her conversation with Galen over the phone. She racked her brain trying to remember exactly what had happened afterwards. All she could picture was a flash of green. A mad scramble to get Gary off her shoulders and safely on the ground before whatever happened. And then, she had been here.
The grass – there was no other explanation. The grass itself had been a dryad, or something similar. It had reached up and dragged her through the ground.
Is that how the dryads kept appearing? Tsukiko asked herself. She thought back to the pumpkins, the snapdragon and the ivy creature. Only the apple tree monster had taken its time reaching the Alesia Circus. Was this facility simply dropping the dryads off at the circus directly? It was a scary thought.
In fact, when you consider how much the circus moves around, and how many different patches of grass we set up on... Tsukiko thought. How much of this dryad teleportation grass is there? Is it everywhere?
Tsukiko sighed. The MRI sounds were not conducive to thinking, and even if she could determine exactly how the grass had worked, there was nothing she could do about it. In fact, there wasn't much she could do period in her present condition, let alone with a dozen researchers hounding her. For now, the only course of action she had was to grit her teeth and make it through these tests.
It was approximately eight hours later when the last of the researchers left Tsukiko in her room. Mr. Richards gave the girl one final look of pity before closing the door behind him. Tsukiko was sure she heard him mutter something about 'not even giving her a bed'. Indeed, the room was left exactly as it was when Tsukiko and the researchers were first introduced – perfectly empty except for Tsukiko and her straitjacket.
“Friggin' finally,” Tsukiko said to herself. She carefully got to her feet and examined her restraints.
Tsukiko's personal best time to escape a straitjacket: two minutes and thirty-seven seconds.
She was twitchy as she peered down the halls. Tsukiko knew she had to be careful and quiet to avoid being noticed by anyone who may have been in the building after what she assumed to be the end of the work day, but she knew she had to be quick for exactly the same reason.
The facility looked just like an average hospital, albeit completely empty. It was eerie just how normal everything appeared. Nothing about the building made it seem like it would stand out in any of the many cities Tsukiko had seen in her time with the circus, or even her home town of Maplefort.
She turned a corner, and nearly jumped. A person stood on the other side of the hall, and he looked directly at her. There was a moment of tension where Tsukiko and the man stared at each other in mild confusion.
Then, the man pulled his janitorial cart out from its corner and went back to mopping the floors.
Tsukiko, deciding that fate owed her for letting her get kidnapped and experimented on, decided to press her luck just a bit further.
“Excuse me,” she said, approaching the janitor. “I'm looking for the front desk.”
The janitor sized up this girl who was in the facility that was supposed to be empty. He tried to think of ways that she could have gotten so lost that she ended up getting trapped in the building so long after closing hours.
Then, he remembered he was paid to mop floors, and security was none of his business.
“Head back the way you came. First right is a stairwell. Go down two floors, turn left, and you're there,” He said.
Tsukiko thanked the man and took his directions. The reception area had no seating for waiting patients; Tsukiko had to wonder just what the purpose of this building was. Still, she found what she was truly after – a phone.
Tsukiko rooted through the desk and found a piece of paper with a letterhead. She brought it, and the phone's receiver under the table, hiding out of sight. Then, she dialed one of the few phone numbers she'd ever bothered to memorize in her life.
“Hello?” Galen asked.
“Galen! I got kidnapped again.”
“Oh my god. Where are you?”
“According to this letterhead...” Tsukiko said, “I am in the Cypress Research Facility. In the city of...” She paused. “Maplefort.”
In retrospect, the name 'Cypress Research Facility' did sound vaguely familiar. If Tsukiko's sense of direction wasn't failing her, she was downtown, only about ten kilometers from her parents' home.
“Maplefort, huh?” Galen said. “Okay. We'll come get you.”
“Watch out, though,” said Tsukiko. “There's this guy here who's... it's like he's a dryad. He looks human, but I think he can control the dryads. It's insane.”
“Oh. Garrick, right? Vercy met him too.”
“Okay, I guess you just know everything...” Tsukiko trailed off as a pair of legs appeared in front of the desk. A dial tone droned through the phone's receiver.
“That's enough of that,” said Garrick. Tsukiko sheepishly poked her head out of the desk. Garrick had the unplugged phone cable in one hand; the other held a thick beige folder. He was unarmed. For an instant, Tsukiko thought she could make it to the door.
Then, Tsukiko turned her head in the door's direction, and saw the obstacle between it and her – a dryad. It somewhat resembled the ivy-like creature that had wounded her mother some time ago, but this was more bestial. Its leaf-covered arms nearly touched the floor, standing like a gorilla. It was not entirely green; several dozen bits of red stuck out from its body at odd angles.
“That is a hot pepper dryad,” Garrick said. “You're welcome to try getting past it. If you do indeed have the ability to transform into a tank, I dare say you might be able to do it.”
Tsukiko grit her teeth.
“Incidentally, I'm here because I wanted to see all of your test results as quickly as I could,” Garrick continued, lifting up the folder.
“Oh?” Tsukiko asked, hoping she sounded smug. “What did you find? Did all that bloodwork tell you that leaving a stage magician in a straitjacket is a terrible idea for idiots?”
To her surprise, Garrick smiled, and for a moment he looked more human than he ever had before.
“You're right, of course. That was a mistake. Unfortunately, there are certain limits to what I can order an average human researching team to do to someone.”
Now Garrick's smile made him look much less human.
“So you really are a dryad,” Tsukiko said.
“You and Vercingetorix both seemed so sure of that,” Garrick said. “I am merely a human, who was chosen by the dryads to assist them in ways only a human could. Such is the way of things, and such it has always been.
“And that, actually, leads me into the one interesting thing I found in your test results,” said Garrick. “I was most disappointed to find that you are just an ordinary human yourself. There was nothing in your blood or tissue or scans to show anything but flesh and blood. So there is still the mystery of how you can do all of the things you can do.”
That's a relief, Tsukiko thought.
“And because of that, I can't kill you quite yet.”
A big relief, Tsukiko corrected, immediately paling.
“But it was when I looked at your ancestry that I found something curious,” Garrick said. “Takenaka. You're related to that ancient family of samurai.” Garrick shook his head, yet he still had a faint smile; it was an expression of curiosity and disbelief. “Tell me – are you in possession of that sword that slayed so many dryads so long ago?”
“What?” Tsukiko blurted. She had many other questions, such as why no one in her family seemed to know or mention that the Takenakas had fought dryads, and why Garrick acted like he remembered something that took place a thousand years ago. In this situation, she found she couldn't word them properly, and so 'what' was all she managed.
“Shiba Kariki, I believe was the name,” Garrick said idly. “Yes, I remember it all too well.” He put a hand to his chest. “That sword was actually what killed me back then – the previous Garrick, I mean.
“You, Tsukiko... you've only fought dryads. Never fought another human, have you? That means you could never understand how it feels to have such... cold steel... plunged into your chest.”
The hot pepper dryad moved away from the door, lumbering closer to Garrick and Tsukiko.
“Well, that's enough chatting. I have a few more tests to perform.”
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xadoheandterra · 6 years
Text
A Shadow of a Bittersweet Memory
Fandom: Red vs Blue Characters: Agent Texas | Beta, Church | Alpha, Agent Carolina, Dr. Leonard Church | Director Summary: Her existence started as pain, abandonment, and loss. It took time, but she found herself along the way--from Allison, to Agent Texas, to Beta, to Tex--and, in the end, that is all that matters.
For @akisawana and the @redvsbluesecretsanta this year! It’s Christmas Eve for me, but I’ve been waiting to post this since I got the information on whom I was Santa. Such inspiration~
A copy of this is going up on AO3 and FFN.
She woke up to this world screaming.
It felt like a whole part of herself was torn asunder, ripped into jagged edges of pain and sorrow. My fault her entire being radiated, my failure, my fault, mine. She felt broken and twisted and bereft—go away, stop, leave me, I can’t—her thoughts were fragmented where the jagged edges ached. It felt like someone went and tore her straight into two; straight down the middle and then snatched away the rest of her and left her to bleed out and die.
Coherent thought didn’t exist; not yet, not now. Memory didn’t exist—only the pain and emptiness of being ripped away, of being abandoned. She came into the world screaming as an infant; she woke up screaming as an adult. Pain became her very existence. Regret choked her. Failure defined her.
She woke up to this world in pain.
He called her Allison.
“Call me Leonard.”
He said she lost her memory in an accident. That she’d been in a coma for years. That they had a daughter, that he missed her, that he wanted to save her and he finally—finally—succeeded.
“What do you remember, Allison?”
They were married, Leonard told her. They were married—except she didn’t believe it. Not really. Her heart thrummed with loss, loss, loss, loss and save me, save me, save me, save me. There was someone else, she realized. Someone far more important to her than Leonard. Someone different.
“We’re not married.”
She told him this plainly, breath ghosted as he grasped her hand with some sort of desperation.
“We’re not…”
“We are, Allison. We are—you came back to me.”
Wrong, her heart beat. Wrong, failure, save me, loss, wrong. Allison breathed out slowly, let this man she didn’t know fall into his own delusion. She couldn’t break him of it—and some part of him was familiar, so familiar it hurt.
“The memories will come back, I promise.”
“You’ll see.”
“Allison.”
Allison; he called her Allison. It never felt quite right.
Agent Texas had a nice ring to it.
She stared down at her gloved hands, wrapped in power armor, and flex her fingers with a pleased sort of hum. It had taken her months of wearing down the Director—Leonard, Allison, call me Leonard please—of bittersweet promises to always come home before he even thought to let her join the Project. She never did ask what happened to the last Agent Texas on the roster—no one really knew what happened she learned from subtle prodding.
A secret then, she concluded. A secret worth uncovering, perhaps. Perhaps later, perhaps never, perhaps—she didn’t like secrets, she realized with a bitter frown.
Loss, save me, failure, wrong, help, why—
She did like the sound of Agent Texas—much better than Allison that never quite fit right, never quite sounded right. Agent Texas didn’t sound right either, but it was better. It was close.
Agent Texas had a really nice ring to it.
She liked Agent Texas.
“Your life is a lie.”
“Your memories, a lie.”
Texas looked at Carolina and fought down the force of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. This wasn’t her daughter. She wasn’t Allison Church. She wasn’t.
It felt so real, now—Texas ground her teeth together. She pressed her heels into the ground.
“Don’t try to stop me,” she ground out and pushed down everything—everything—
“She’s not your daughter.”
“He lied.”
They fought, and all Texas could think about while she dodged and blocked and punched and kicked and flew through zero-g was what Leonard told her, what she remembered. How he didn’t want to alarm Carolina, how he wanted to keep her safe—
I don’t want to lose you again, Allison.
—how she’d supposedly been in a coma, how he told their daughter she was dead while he worked to save her. How her coma was caused by the Great War that still raged around them, still burned with anger in her veins—
She won’t recognize you. We have to take it slow.
—and it hurt.
“Give it up, Carolina,” Texas said, and tried to bury the desire to protect, protect, protect, protect.
“I can beat you,” Carolina replied, conviction in her tone of voice. Their rivalry—why were they rivals? Why did Carolina have to be so opposed to her? What was wrong—
“She’s not your daughter.”
“She’s not.”
Texas ground her teeth together as the ship rattled and fell apart around them, as atmosphere began to burn at the glass.
“No.”
Carolina was no match for Texas.
“You.”
Protect, protect, protect, protect.
“Can’t!”
Carolina was no match for Texas. Texas was—
—failure, loss, save me, help, broken—
—simply better.
Connie was correct, Texas realized as she stood in front of Alpha.
Alpha, alpha, alpha, alpha, alpha.
Texas was not human. Her body couldn’t be human and every action was a carefully crafted mirage. She was Program: Beta, a mere fragment torn away from Program: Alpha. She stared at the tired AI, at how he struggled to form words. Epsilon was still new, the pain of the rip still fresh. Alpha was still tired from breaking at the seams and Texas sighed.
“You’re Alpha,” she told him, and she found herself—silent. Protective. Sad. “You’re Church,” Texas corrected because this AI, this tired being in front of her, was not Alpha. He’d never been Alpha. That was what Leonard—the Director—called him. Alpha deserved a name after everything.
“Right. Church. That’s me.” He didn’t sound wholly convinced, still utterly confused. “And you are…?”
Beta, I’m your Beta. You made me. You made me. How could you forget me? How could you abandon me? Why, why, why, why, why—
—alpha, alpha, alpha, alpha, alpha—
“Let’s just say we used to be together,” Texas wanted to smile, wanted to laugh because god that statement was so true and so wrong all at once.
Allison and Leonard.
Beta and Alpha.
What a laugh.
“Oh. Okay.”
God what had they done to him? How much of Alpha was ripped away—how many more like Texas did Leonard—the Director—make? She knew of Alpha Squad’s AI—Gamma, Theta, Epsilon, Delta, Eta, Iota, Sigma, Omega—but this hollowed out shell implied more, more, more, more. What had been done to him?
Texas shoved it aside, shoved aside the bittersweet sorrow that wanted to overwhelm her. “I need you to come with me,” she said, gently, because this broken thing deserved some gentleness in his life. Deserved better than this.
“Oh, I don’t think I can, but thanks.”
What? No.
“I think I’m just gonna, stay here, you know, and rest.”
You—why would you—
“You don’t want to leave?” Texas felt—Texas felt—there was a knife in her. There had to be. How else could this hurt.
“Nah I just-I-I don’t think I can,” Alpha—Church—sounded so confused. So lost.
It’s me, a part of her screamed. Please, recognize me. Come with me. Don’t let him win, don’t let him take you, don’t let him lie to you.
“Okay,” Texas said, voice even softer. She didn’t feel angry just empty, now. “You just…rest, then.” Texas turned to leave, turned to let Alpha—Church—be, because she couldn’t force him. He was her and she was him and his desires ultimately overrode hers in this respect.
“Yeah, uh, what was your—name—was your name—your name again?” he sounded worse and Texas fought down a sob.
“It’s Texas,” Texas said.
Beta, Allison, Texas. Neither fit quite right, but that didn’t matter. He didn’t need to know.
“Texas. Like the state?”
Coherency came and went, and Texas closed her eyes.
“Yeah,” she said. States, they were all named after states. Pride in your heritage, pride in the good old United States—Texas. Never before did she honestly hate the name as she did then.
“Funny name for a girl,” Church said with the smallest of a laugh.
“Well Church is—pretty funny name for a guy,” Texas said with a smile and a laugh.
“Texas? Yah name is Texas? Funny name for ah girl.”
“Yeah well Church ain’t any better; funny name for a guy.”
“Ah’ll have yah know that Church is plenty respectable ah name and goes back generations.”
“Sure it does.”
“Call me Leonard, Texas.”
“It’s Allison, Church.”
“You gave me this name, you know,” Texas said. And he had, Texas knew. She read Connie’s files, read the information Connie had gathered for her. The Director had dithered on letting her into the field, but Alpha vouched for her. Alpha suggested she take Agent Texas’ spot—the Agent Texas no one spoke of.
“Wonder why I did that?”
“Maybe if you think about it, it’ll come to you,” Texas told him. She hoped, she prayed—if there was even a God that would listen to a bitter fragment like her—that he remembered at least something. Not the torture, but something of her.
“Yeah I—I’m gonna go rest now. Thanks for coming by.”
Texas clenched her fists, but she understood. He was broken, twisted and jagged at the edges just like her. He was recovering; she had already recovered.
“Yeah, you go rest now,” she said after a moment. “And Church? Goodbye.”
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.
“Funny, I don’t know why but, I hate goodbye’s.”
Texas fought down a sob. She knew. “Oh, Church…so do I.”
He shook his head; she already felt the run of her communication with Church ending. There was no more time left.
“Well, see ya,” he said, “crazy…state name…lady.”
“Yah fuckin’ crazy ass state named bitch!”
“Oh shut your gay mouth, bastard.”
“It’s bi, yah damned woman!”
Texas laughed. Texas cried.
Goodbye.
Tex. That was the name she waited to hear all these years. Tex. She wasn’t Allison, she wasn’t Beta, she wasn’t Texas—she was Tex.
It came from Church’s mouth; only fitting he find the right name for her this time when they met again. He called himself a ghost, and she didn’t doubt he believed it. Everything in his riemann matrix would be scrambled to hell and back, the original circuits fried and new paths needed to be reached. He was human, so utterly human that it hurt.
When her own body burned and she jumped ship, when she stood in front of Church in all her holographic glory, mind encompassing the multiple implants to ease the burden like Church did for the others, did Tex decide to stay. This could be interesting, these little ragtag people that Church surrounded himself with. This could be fun.
Tex did leave in the end. There was a war to be fought; she’d forgotten, somewhere along the line, in that distant little Gulch with the Reds and Blues. There was a war to be fought.
Goodbye.
I hate goodbye.
When they met again, it was inside the Meta. They were Eta-Iota-Sigma-Omega-Delta-Theta-Beta—they were the Meta and they weren’t. Tex pulled herself away long enough to stare at Church—to stare at Alpha who stared back at her with a broken, twisted expression.
“He was right, wasn’t he,” Alpha said. “I’m a computer program.”
Tex sighed. “Yeah,” she said. “He was right.”
“We’re gonna die, aren’t we?” Alpha asked, and it hurt. It hurt like ripping, tearing, jagged edges that they all were, that they’d become—scabs and fractures of a mind twisted and broken for so-so long.
“Yeah,” Tex said. “We are.”
“Epsilon’s still out there,” Alpha said, and glanced toward where Washington fumbled.
“So?”
“There’s…a chance—”
Tex sighed. “Let it rest, Church,” she said. “I’m tired. Aren’t you?”
Alpha paused, then frowned. “I—yeah. I’m tired too.”
Tex reached out and grasped Church’s hand. She smiled bittersweet—bittersweet, everything about them was merely bittersweet.
“At least we’re together,” Church mumbled. “If this is the end—at least we’re together.”
“Yeah,” Tex agreed. “I can’t think of a better way to go.”
Bittersweet, Tex thought, but here she felt whole, connected, accepted, safe, protected—found. He’d found them all, he joined them all, and that was what mattered.
Tex came into this world screaming. Tex woke up in pain. She suffered confusion—Allison, Texas, Beta, Tex—and she found herself. Her name, her being, her reason and truth. She found Alpha—found Church. She faced her demons, she became part of the Meta, and now—now she was whole.
Tex came into this world screaming. She’d leave it in peace.
“I don’t know why, but I hate goodbye’s.”
“I know. I do too.”
“This isn’t goodbye, in the end, is it?”
“No. It never is, between us.”
“It never is.”
Goodbye.
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bbybucky-fics · 7 years
Text
War of hearts
request: Could I request a fic where the reader and Bucky get into a heated argument before he leaves for a long-ass mission? Up to you what happens when he gets back. Thank you! 😘
word count: 2133
warnings: angst
a/n: listen to this whilst reading
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Rain cascaded down your window pane, the storm outside was its peak but the storm inside was only just beginning. It was inevitable - the fight between you two but that didn’t mean his words didn’t hurt nonetheless. All of the anger he had been pushing down inside of him had exploded and you knew his shouting wouldn’t stop until he released all of his rage. You knew that he wasn’t necessarily angry at you but still his words cut deep like a knife. It always happened before missions, he always seemed to go off on you over nothing this time it was because you weren’t sure Bucky should go on this particular mission. You knew he was perfectly capable but the distance and the longevity of the mission were what you feared, you knew Bucky couldn’t go without talking to you or seeing you for six months and neither could you. But Bucky’s insecurities got the best of him (like they always did) and he believed it was because you were scared that he would turn into him, that you believed he would become the emotionless killing machine he was once was. He thought you doubted his control and stability, he thought you didn’t believe in him. You did and you always would but Bucky couldn’t see that through his raging sea of demons. “Do you not trust me, Y/N is that it?” Bucky asked and all but accused, you sat still on your shared bed as he paced the room tugging at strands of his long hair. You couldn’t help the frown that found its way on your face at his words. “Of course, I trust you Bucky. You know that.” You replied and at your words he stood still in the middle of the room, his eyes locking on you and a bitter laugh sounding from his chapped lips. The laughter didn’t stop until he spoke up again, “I don’t know that. How can I when all you do is doubt me?” You shook your head at his words resisting the urge to get on your knees and plead him to let you speak, to let him know that you couldn’t live without him. Your lips started to move but before any words could fall from the lips that Bucky loved to press to his own, your boyfriend spoke again. “Don’t say anything Y/N, I don’t want your excuses because you’re just like the rest: you see me as nothing but a monster.” Bucky wanted to you to say something despite his words, he wanted you to speak up and tell him he was being crazy and that his words weren’t true. You remained silent however looking at the ground, you wanted to say something but Bucky’s accusations hurt more than you imagined. Did he really think those things of you? Silence lingered in the air as Bucky’s mind raced over his words, he was right you did think those things and why wouldn’t you because he was exactly what you thought he was. A monster, who had no control and would do nothing but kill and this six-month mission would be no exception. He would become the monster again because he was the monster. “Do you really have nothing to say?” Bucky asked as he stepped forward approaching you. Your head snapped up at the sound of the pain and anger in his voice, your eyes locked on his and you saw a fire that belonged to the deepest, darkest depths of hell. You laughed just as bitterly as he did minutes ago, “You made it pretty clear you didn’t want me to talk Bucky. Clearly, you want to believe that I’m the bad person that doesn’t trust you even though you know it’s not true.” You said and Bucky just shook his head chuckling darkly. He came to you, leaning down his face inches away from yours his hands either side of your hips. His gaze was predatory, he looked exactly like when he was The Winter Soldier and it terrified you. “I love you Bucky, why do you have to do this to yourself? Why can’t you see my intentions are good.” You said. You needed to calm him down before he did something you knew would hurt him. Bucky leaned closer, you could hear his heavy, harsh breaths on your neck as you felt the frigid touch of his lips to the shell of your ear. “Don’t lie to me.” He demanded, his voice was void of all emotions and at the sound of him speaking shivers ran down your spine. His harsh tone was all too familiar. You swallowed thickly, trying to rid your fears for the man in front of you. “I’m not, the only person who’s lying here is you. You know the truth James, I don’t think any of those things about you.” You tried to reason with him, you tried to make him see what you did but all Bucky could see were his own delusions. “I said, don’t lie to me!” He exclaimed, his voice more chilling than you had ever heard it before. You suddenly became uncomfortable at the closeness of the two of you. You knew it wasn’t him talking, it was the demons he had tried to drown but couldn’t. “Baby please just listen to me.” You yelled because it seemed like he refused to hear anything you had to say. Bucky pulled back from your ear his eyes looking straight into your soul but not in the romantic way you were accustomed to, there was malice in his eyes and it seemed you were the reason for it. He said nothing and you were thankful for it but the sound of his laboured breaths scared you more than anything. You needed to get away from him and allow him to calm down, you tried to think of anything but you knew it was physically impossible. He was bigger and stronger than you, it seemed you would have to keep staring directly into his glare. You were granted your wish, your prayers were heard when Steve walked through the door. He noticed your panicked state immediately but you gave him a small smile telling him it was fine that Bucky was still Bucky… for now. “Buck, it’s time to go.” Steve said and at the sound of someone’s voice that wasn’t the demons inside of him, Bucky’s head snapped up. He looked at you sadly but it wasn’t the sadness you had expected, it was the sadness because he believed his words to be true. “Okay, let me just get my bag.” Bucky said removing himself from you, allowing you to release the breath you had been holding in. You watched as he walked over to your closet to get his duffel bag, as you watched Steve watched too wondering what he had just walked into. Bucky picked up the bag slinging it over his shoulder walking straight past you and towards Steve. “Bucky, baby let me explain.” You said but he ignored you walking past Steve and out of the door. Steve wanted to say something but Bucky was calling his name, he gave you a small smile before leaving you alone by yourself. When he was gone you found yourself crying because you didn’t know what else to do, Bucky was gone for six months and it seemed to you that he hated you just as much as he hated himself deep down. You didn’t know what you would do now that he was gone.
He was coming home. Finally. It had been six months of crying yourself to sleep and praying and hoping that he was okay. He was at least that was what Tony had said and just that fact made you run so fast to the hangar to greet him. You hoped that your argument from before was gone, you hoped that in the six months he was gone he saw through the lies he had fed himself and seen the truth – that you were just scared to be without him for so long.
The quinjet landed on time and you were on the balls of your feet as the jet opened and your boyfriend along with Steve and Sam came out. At the sight of him, you couldn’t help the smile that reached your face but it quickly turned into a frown when Bucky walked straight past you.  You couldn’t help but be hurt and decided to go to Steve because you needed answers.
“Is Bucky okay?” You asked and Steve just shook his head sighing.
“Just go talk to him.” Steve advised and you did following after him till you reached your shared room.
“Bucky?” You called out drawing his attention to you. He looked as sad and as angry as the day he left six months ago. You felt like you were having déjà vu.
“Y/N.” He greeted you solemnly making sadness wash over you in waves.
“Is everything alright? Are we good?” You asked because you didn’t know what was going on inside of his head but whatever it was you wanted to know.
He looked at you like he was committing you to his memory and replied, “I’ve been thinking about you for the last six months and every time I do the only one thought comes to mind. Y/N I can’t do this anymore. I can’t even trust myself let alone trust another person. I need time.” Ever since you had begun dating Bucky you were always scared this would happen, that it would become too much and it would leave you both heartbroken.
You saw the determined look on his face, you knew this hurt him just as much as it hurt you. You willed yourself not to cry, you were stronger than this despite the immense pain that struck your heart and tore your heartstrings. “Did you realise why I didn’t want you to go?” You asked and Bucky nodded.
“I know you trust me, I do but I can’t trust myself. Every time you’ve told me you love me, I didn't believe it. I didn't believe that you could love somebody like me. Every time you held me after my nightmares as I screamed and cried and talked me down and calmed me, I didn't believe your words because I’m not deserving of them. Every time you touched me, I thought I must have been dreaming because I’m not worthy of your touch. I’m not worthy of you.” Bucky said and his words brought tears to both his eyes and yours.
“There’s no talking you out of this, is there?” You asked and Bucky shook his head.
“I want you to be happy and I want to be happy too, I just need some time away from you and all of this to keep on working at myself and when I come back I’ll be the best version of myself. And if some lucky man hasn’t snapped you up, I’ll be there on my knees roses in my hand as well as a diamond ring to make you mine for an eternity.” Bucky said and you couldn't help the smile that broke out on your face at his words.
“I’d love that more than anything.” You said because you knew how much getting better meant for Bucky and you wanted him too, more than anything.
“So would I.” Bucky said with his own sad smile. You watched as he packed clothes into another duffel bag just as you had when he left six months ago. It felt like you were back there, you felt just as heartbroken and hopeful for the future.
He picked the duffel bag up slinging it on his shoulder before approaching you and pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek. “I’ll love you forever Y/N, never forget that.” Bucky said.
“I’ll love you forever too, I hope you get better.” You said and Bucky nodded before he pressed a kiss to your other cheek. You watched as he walked away for the second time in six months but this time there was a slither of happiness. Happiness for the man who was walking out of your life, you hoped and prayed he would peace and that when he did he’d find you so you could both he be happy together.
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Étienne Carat     Victor Hugo, Paris     1876
Letters to the rich and to the poor, c.1884
I am asked what has been the lesson of my life, which I have learned in my years of living to bequeath as my most precious legacy to humanity. I reply that my soul has two messages of council, of promise and of threat to deliver. One to the rich and the other to the poor. The two contain the sum of human wisdom.
TO THE RICH.
The poor cry out to the wealthy. The slaves implore the rulers. And as much now as in the days of Spartan Helots. I am one of them and I add my voice to that multitude that it may reach the ears of the rich. Who am I? One of the people. From whence come I? From the bottomless pit. How am I named? I am Wretchedness. My lords, I have something to say to you.
My lords, you are placed high. You have power, opulence, pleasure, the sun immovable at your zenith, unlimited authority, enjoyment undivided, a total forgetfulness of others. So be it. But there is something below you. Above you, perhaps. My lords I impart to you a novelty. The human race exists.
I am he who comes from the depths. My lords, you are the great and the rich. That is perilous. You take advantage of the night. But have a care; there is a great power, the morning. The dawn cannot be vanquished. It will come. It comes, it has within it the outbreak of irresistible day.
You, you are the dark clouds of privilege. Be afraid. The true master is about to knock at the door.
What is the father of privilege? Chance. What is his son? Abuse. Neither chance nor abuse is enduring. They have, both of them, an evil to-morrow.
I come to warn you. I come to denounce you in your own bliss. It is made out of the ills of the others. Your paradise is made out of the hell of the poor. I come to open before you, the wealthy, the grand assizes of the poor-that sovereign who is the slave, that convict who is the judge. I am bowed down under what I have to say. Where to begin? I know not. I have picked up in the cruel experience of suffering, my vast though struggling pleas. Now what shall I do with them? They overwhelm me and I throw them forth pell mell before me.
I am a diver and I bring up from the depths a pearl, the Truth. 1 speak because I know. I have experienced. I have seen. Suffering? No, the word is weak, O masters in bliss ! Poverty-I have grown up in it; winter-I have shivered in it; famine-I have tasted it; scorn-I have undergone it; the plague-I have had it; shame-I have drunk of it.
I felt it requisite that I should come among you. Why, because of my yesterday's rags. It was in order that my voice might be raised among the satiated, that God commingled me with the hungered. Oh! have pity! Oh, you know not this fatal world, whereunto you believe that you belong. So high, you are outside of it. I will tell you what it is.
Abandoned an orphan, alone in boundless creation, I made my entry into this gloom you call society. The first thing I saw was law, under the form of a gibbet; the second was wealth- your wealth-under the form of a woman dead of cold and hunger; the third was luxury under the shape of a hunted man chained to prison walls; the fourth was your palaces beneath the shadow of which cowered the tramp.
The human race has been made by you slaves and convicts, you have made of this earth a dungeon. Light is wanting, air is wanting, virtue is wanting.
The workers of this world whose fruits you enjoy live in death. There are little girls who begin at eight by prostitution, and who end at twenty by old age. Who among you nave been to Newcastle-on-Tyne? There are men in the mines who chew coal, to fill their stomach and cheat hunger. Look you in Lancashire. Misery everywhere. Are you aware that the Harlech fishermen eat grass when the fishery fails? Are you aware that at Burton- Lazers there are still certain lepers driven into the woods, who are fired at if they come out of their dens? In Peckridge there are no beds in the hovels, and holes are dug in the ground for little children to sleep in; so that, in place of beginning with the cradle, they begin with the tomb.
Mercy, have mercy for the poor! Oh, I conjure you, have pity ! But no, you will not. I know ye all. Devils bred in hell, and dogs with hearts of stone. Upward to your golden throne for ages has gone the cry of misery, the groan of hunger, and the sob of despair, and ye heeded it not. What mercy hast thou given shall be meted out to you in turn.
Bear in mind that a series of kings armed with swords were interrupted by Cromwell and the axe.
Tremble! The incorruptible dissolutions draw near; the clipped talons push out again; the torn-out tongues take to flight, become tongues of flame scattered to the winds of darkness, and they howl in the Infinite. They who are hungry show their idle teeth, Paradises built over hells totter. There is suffering and that which is above leans over, and that which is below gapes open. The shadow asks to become light. The damned discuss the elect. It is the people who are oncoming. I tell you it is Man who ascends. It is the end that is beginning. It is the red dawning on Catastrophe. Ah! This society is false. One day, a true society must come. Then there will be no more lords; there will be free, living men. There will be no more wealth, there will be an abundance for the poor. There will be no more masters, but there will be brothers. They that toil shall have. This is the future. No more prostration, no more abasement, no more ignorance, no more wealth, no more beasts of burden, no more courtiers-but LIGHT.
To The Poor,
Shall I now speak to the poor after having in vain implored the rich? Yes, it is fitting. This then have I to say to the disinherited. Keep a watch upon your abominable jaw. There is one rule for the rich-to do nothing, and one for the poor- to say nothing. The poor have but one friend, silence. They should use but one monosyllable: yes. To confess and to concede-these are all the "rights" they have. " Yes" to the judge. "Yes" to the king. The great if it so pleases them give us blows with a stick; I have had them; it is their prerogative, and they lose nothing of their greatness in cracking our bones. Let us worship the king’s scepter which is the first among sticks.
If a poor man is happy he is the pickpocket of happiness. Only the rich and noble are happy by right. The rich man is he who being young has the rights of old age; being old, the lucky chances of youth; vicious, the respect of good people; a coward, the command of the stout-hearted; doing nothing, the fruits of labor.
Carriages, poor slaves, exist. The lord is inside; the people are under the wheel; the wise man makes room.
The people fight. Whose is the glory? They pay. Whose is the magnificence? The king's. And the people like to be rich in this fashion. Our ruler, King or Croesus, receives from the poor a crown piece and renders back to the poor a farthing. How generous he is! The colossal looks up to the pygmy superstructure. How tall the manikin is! He is on my back. A dwarf has an excellent method of being higher than a giant; it is to perch himself upon the other's shoulders. But that the giant should let him do it, there's the odd part of it; and that he should admire the baseness of the dwarf, there's the stupidity. Human ingenuousness.
The equestrian statue reserved for kings alone is an excellent type of royalty. Let us be frank with words. The capitalist who steals the reward of labor is a king as well as the man of blood. The king mounts himself on the horse. The horse is the people. Sometimes this horse transfigures himself by degrees. At the beginning he is an ass; at the end he is a lion. Then he throws his rider to the ground and we have 1643 in England and 1789 in France; and sometimes devours him, in which case we have in England 1649 and in France 1793.
That the lion can again become a jackass, this is surprising but a fact.
What happiness to be again ridden and beaten and starved. What happiness to work forever for bread and water ! What happiness to be free from the delusions that cake is good and life other than misery! Was there anything more crazy than those ideas? Where should we be if every vagabond had his rights? Imagine everybody governing! Can you imagine a city governed by the men who built it? They are the team, not the coachman. What a godsend is a rich man who takes charge of everything. Surely he is generous to take the trouble for us! And then, he was brought up to it; he knows what it is; it is his business. A guide is necessary for us. Being poor we are ignorant; being ignorant we are blind; we need a guide. But why are we ignorant? Because it must be so. Ignorance is the guardian of Virtue! He who is ignorant is innocent! It is not our duty to think, complain or reason. These truths are uncontestable. SOCIETY reposes on them. What is "society"? Misery for you if you support it. Be reasonable, poor man. you were made to be a slave.
Not to be a slave is to DARE to Do.
Victor Hugo
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Law of Life: Redheads are Absolute 3
This is the third part of this story and actually the original idea I had when I originally wrote this thing. But I love the idea of Baby!Natasha. So yeah. You get the first two parts and now this.
Tony can’t see anything in the dark room. He can’t hear the man either but something in the air shifts. Tony can feel the prickling along his arms and neck. A sensation that Tony has only ever felt around Carol, a level five Alpha. He presses a button, that Tony rigged for this very moment, turning on the lights in the common room. “I’ve been waiting for you, Sir. But I find myself disappointed, the rumors of your deeds had painted a more-” Tony pauses to swirl his hand at the other man. “-dashing picture. I’m underwhelmed.” The genius nods, huffing out a breath, and resting his head onto his palm.
The Alpha crinkles the paper, Tony’s message, and apparently trying to understand the mind of Tony Stark by glaring his boots into submission or something. “We’ve met before?” He’s brow wrinkles.
“Yes. We have indeed met when you kidnapped me. I was playing a bit. I got bored waiting for your ass to finally show up so we could talk.”
“Talk?” Silver blue eyes sweep the room and Tony finds himself already frustrated with the man.
“Yes, communication is very important for human interaction.” The genius wrinkles his nose. “So I’ve been told.” Another pause. “By everybody.” Racoon Man takes a step towards the only door, usually electronically locked with no way to open it in sight, resulting in Tony gathering himself from the couch to stand eye-to-eye (he stands on his tiptoes, but nobody has to know that) with the soldier. Glaring daggers the way he's seen Pepper do a thousand times. “We’re starting with names since I cannot keep calling you Racoon Man in my head. I’m tired of the nickname already. Of course, I could come up with any number of degrading nicknames but I usually save that particular circle of hell for my friends. Which you aren’t, Tarzan.”
His gaze makes another sweep of the room and makes an attempt to escape from Tony, well a couple of steps, but Tony lets the soldier keep the space. “Doesn’t matter.” The Alpha curls his shoulders inwards then takes another step back.
“If it doesn’t matter than give me something you overgrown pet rock.” A soft whine comes from the taller man’s throat and Tony bites back the next insulting nickname. “Anything. Please.” Tony tacked the please on because Rhodey always said it was a ‘magic word’. Magic, really.
“Designation the Winter Soldier project Asset,” he reported voice sterile of any emotions. The same way Natalie speaks sometimes which means Tony was kidnapped by a cult drinking crazy person. Lovely. At least he doesn’t appear to be with said cult anymore. Tony would definitely notice if someone tried to indoctrinate him. He’s smart like that. Cult escapee lets another soft whine, facing away from the genius and exposing his neck in a very un-Alpha fashion.
“Welp the only word I heard that can be used as an acceptable name is Winter. Congratulation you’re name is Winter Wolf because I like alliteration.” Tony can hear Winter whispering his name and letting one or two quiet giggles. It’s cute and Tony has to stop that thought right there before it goes anywhere. Because Tony does not have time for any cute crazy cult ninja people.
When the soldier continues to stay motionless, Tony finds himself voicing a heavy sigh feeling like he just finished a ten day engineering binge. But he can’t remain in this comfortable cage, Tony has a responsibility to SI.
“Winter?” Tony waits for the man to make any sign that he heard the genius but Winter continues he’s best impression of a statue. “Winter why’d you kidnap me? Hell, why the interest in the kids?” More silence and Tony is not sure what he expected from a man whose speech is limited to a five hundred word limit. Sign language, maybe? Does communicating in sign language count towards a word count? Tony has already added learning ASL to his to do list, perhaps he can drop a few hints to the word challenged Alpha that he should pick it up too. “Fuck. Can you at least treat me like a goddamn human and look me in the eyes?” Tony pleads.
Now that was a fucking mistake. Right up there with calling Pepper, Queen of the Strawberry Bitches. Gray eyes meet copper eyes sparking the tension in the room. First, a electrified shiver slides down Tony’s spine then his skin grew hot. His tongue felt fat in his mouth, and his knees shook. “The spider is my pup and the blonde is her brother.” Tony hadn’t noticed but something shifted between them or Winter came to some decision or something. What is clear is the steel in those gray eyes that were now clawing into Tony. The genius stood his ground refusing to kneel or bow his head in submission. Winter saw Tony’s determination and smirked. Another shiver rolled down. Where had all the space between them gone? There had been enough space for Dum-E yet now Winter’s nose was almost touching Tony’s nose. “You’re mine.”
No. Nope. Not happening. Tony pulled away and took a step back. Winter let him but not before brushing a finger along Tony’s jaw. Nope. Nada. He had made this mistake once already with Ty and not a single part of him wanted a repeat of Tony’s late teens. “No I’m not.”
“Mate.”
“I am no one’s mate,” Tony gripes.
The fucker had the gall to snort at Tony’s words. Like Tony was the one living in Delusional La La Land. Which for the record Tony is living in Reality Practical Land. No delusions for him. “You’ve adopted my pups.” Tony curse. How’d the fucker figure that out? Sure, Tony had fallen for Nat’s creepy charms and Clint’s contradictory personality but that did not mean he was anyone’s Mom or caretaker or anything.
“So we bonded. Doesn’t mean anything.” Winter hums confidently. Tony’s not even sure how. One moment the soldier was acting like a beaten dog then the next it’s all 'I’m the Alpha.' Just what the fuck?! “If you’re hoping for the Stockholm Syndrome to kick in then you’re going to be waiting awhile Buckaroo.” Tony makes a note that Buckaroo is not an approved nickname, if the new tightness around Winter’s eyes is any indication. “Hey, you still with me?” he says softly.
“I’ll let you go.”
“What! What’s the catch?”
Winter shrugs, his eyes finally off Tony and the tension leaked from the room. “I want you to agree freely and you won’t abandoned my pups.” Another shrug.
“What? You want visitation rights?” Winter side eyed Tony and the genius figured that no Winter had not been thinking about visitation rights but he was going to make the most of Tony’s mistake.
“Yeah. And court you too.”
“No.” Howard would not like some weird Alpha sniffing around the manor. Totally ignoring the fact Tony had no way of explaining said Alpha. Or the kids Tony adopted. Maybe it would be best to leave everything up to Pepper. Yes. Pepper can handle everything. Genius! Winter grins wide and Tony can feel his heart stutter. The asshole gaze pinpoints at Tony’s chest and smirks. Winter being hot didn’t mean anything. “No. I say.”
“Sure.” Sure the soldier says, and it's it's just that fuckers luck that Tony loves bad ideas especially when they're wrapped in excellent technological wrapping. 
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I was gonna ask what was wrong with daddy but tbh it's me. Ik I haven't been showing up as much as I can. Honestly I've like been so stuck in my head with everything going on in my life I've neglected people. I feel so detached from reality and people but now I'm starting to question this process. As much as I enjoy talking with people helping others my own personal happiness is tied in so much with him. Honestly there's a block that can't let ke connect anymore and it'd eating at me. I feel detached from everything. Ik I'm not depressed though. I feel like my life has taken a detour and I'm still here in the physical world but it's just a ghost of myself. I guess I should try to ground myself. Hmm you know what this feels piscean in nature. My head is usually in the clouds but recently it's like my whole spirit is gone. Everything I do us just a shadow. Laughing, talking, interacting. What's weird is I should be like horny as fuck right now. I should be dying but my body is like :/ out if service try again at a diffrent time. I wish I had answers. I wish I could change it so it was back to before. We were getting so close and then all of a sudden I'm not there anymore. Tbh I'm probably overthinking. I just need to dump what I'm feeling. I feel sad, disconnected from everything and just feel grief. I can't talk to anyone because I don't even got the words nor do I think I can even talk about it. I miss connecting with daddy. But it's me that fucked up the connection. Tbh I should just talk to him about it. If the universe wants to interfere it will make itself known. Idk why I'm do scared. I guess I'm afraid he'll think I'm crazy tbh that's my biggest fear. That everything that happened will be seen as a delusion. But hrs told me some things too and I should trust that he'll understand or at least won't write it off. Ughh okay work up the courage you nervous ass bitch! Why are you so scared to talk to someone that knows you?????? Omg ik I'm supposed to be kind with myself but I'm being so STOOPID. WHY WOUKD YOU NOT TALK ABOUT IT WITH HIM YOU DUMB BITCH JESUS CHRIST. 🙄 man as much as I like to be treated gently I need to yell at myself more WHEN IM BEING SO FUCKING DUMB I SWEAR TO GOD ID DISOWN MYSELF UF I COYKD lmao 😂😂😂 fuck man I feel so much better Jesus christ I wanna astray project and beat my ass up 😂😂 I'm the one making myself feel lonely. I'm the one pushing hum away OF COURSW IYS ME ugh I'd never forgive myself if this really destroyed my relationship with him. God I'm so fucking dumb sometimes 🙄😔
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