jackassery | every ship is equal, and no one is more powerful than the sea.

FIVE HOLIDAYS THE ROBOBROS SPENT WITH FAMILIES

loose definitions of family definitely allowed

awww both of our new requests were bumped to page 2

five ways victor's bad end could have gone

i. SIDEKICK
“All right,” Victorious says.

Nathan isn't entirely sure what to do with that response. Victorious twists his face into a half expression, something that should look like his boyfriend’s face, but it’s wrong, distorted, sighing dramatically.

“I said- All right, you can be an evil henchman,” he concedes, adding thoughtfully, “Or maybe sidekick? I’ve never had a sidekick before.” Victorious tosses him a smile that belongs on someone else’s face, in someone’s nightmares. “Unless you were like, always the sidekick.”

“No way,” Nathan breathes with his own twisted forced version of a smile, steeling himself as Victorious comes nearer in a few quick strides. Okay, this is how he works. Nice, almost buddy Robocop one second, next he’s got you pinned on the ground and not in the good way, in the pulling-out-your-entrails way. Nathan swallows back the stone in his throat. That’s how it works, he remembers it. It would’ve been too nice of his brain to have let him forget.

He flinches when Victor reaches for him, and if the whole bodily harm move hadn’t been an original part of Victorious’ plan, he quickly switches gears to meet with Nathan’s hesitance.

“Do you want to be a part of this or not?” he asks, voice all civility with his fingers around Nathan’s throat.

No, Nathan thinks, but getting choked out kinda hinders saying anything aloud.

No, colossally, epically no, he does not want to be a part of the destruction of the human race. He doesn’t want to stand in the background of every painfully clichéd villain speech Victorious gives before he decimates a city block. No, he definitely doesn’t want to be rescued by Iron Man, then re-“captured” by Victor, and then told that if Nathan wants stay with the villain, he has to murder the unconscious Tony Stark.

“I can’t do that,” he gasps. “I mean, not even because I don’t fuckin want to- I don’t think I can do that normally!” Victorious brushes it off, he’s kidding, that’s a stupid idea. Just teasing you, he chuffs Nathan under the chin and the mechanics of the Mark XIX suit perform a live vivisection on their fearless leader.

“I do all the heavy lifting in this relationship,” Victorious tuts, stepping over the bloodied parts, gesturing for Nathan to follow.

Asgard’s abandoned them, and Natasha’s too smart to get caught, but getting publicly executed is clearly some part of Cap’s plan. Makes sense, Victor shrugged, you were born to be a symbol, you’ll die as one too. Nathan twists with the obvious heroism staring him in the face, the hoping for the best in people who are just trying not to die. It’s uncomfortable to look that kind of optimism head on, so he hopes Steve doesn’t notice him in the background.

He fixes Nathan with a squared jaw glare, as disappointed as any paternal figure Nathan has ever known, and says, “I really thought you’d be better than this.”

“I’m really not,” Nathan helplessly attempts the gallows humor, stepping aside for Victorious to showboat a bit before the kill.

Nathan catches an arrow in the shoulder just once and Victorious keeps him off the front lines.

“It’s only okay when I do it,” he murmurs against Nathan’s mouth, shutting him up with that and a stolen library of books. Nathan paces through the distant firefights, thumbing through a soggy biography. The longer it takes Victorious to come back, the less he’s sure what he’s hoping for.

One night Victor staggers in with blood to his elbows and blind- her hex will wear off soon, he assures Nathan, sitting in the center of the tiled lobby. He drops the Staff of One with a clatter, the arm that gripped it burnt black with another curse. Nathan hovers over him, categorizing the weapons he’s fashioned throughout the library, the ease there would be in attacking the cyborg in this state.

Victor smears blood over his face when he rubs his eyes, sneering when he asks, “Do you think Sorcerer Supreme is like an inherited title? Like Highlander?” His shoulders shaking, Victorious ducks his face out of reach when Nathan leans down, trying to wipe away the blood with his shirt. Nathan sort of knows Victor’s cloudy eyes are only watering because of the hex, he’s not sorry for what must have went down, and they’re not real tears. It still doesn’t keep Nathan from being gentle, his hands over the last of the Runaways’ face, who laughs weakly, “Maybe I can print out business cards!”

He hibernates off the rest of the spells. It’s not really hibernating, but robots don’t sleep, and that’s the only other computer related term Nathan can think of it besides “shut down,” and no one’s that lucky. Nathan wonders if maybe magic is a key to shutting him down, or at least slowing down Victorious' rampage. Dr. Strange is alive, as far as he knows, maybe there's a way he can get a message out to him. Nathan imagines himself saving the world that way, redeeming himself for standing by and letting the rest of it burn.

He stays still until Victorious eases back online the next day, and counts it a victory how surprised he is to see Nathan still sitting there.

Gratitude written through every string of data, Victor reaches for his hand. “I’m so glad I didn't kill you,” he whispers with a smile.

“Never worked before, right?” Nathan manages to croak out.

“How am I a henchman if you keep ditching me?”

Victor raises his eyebrows, lifting his head from examining the circuit board matter-of-factly, “I’m keeping you safe.”

“I can’t die,” Nathan points out, book closed in his lap. The normalcy of the scene would be laughable, if Nathan didn't wake up forgetting there were dead bodies lining the hallways. “You’re just keeping me out of the way.”

“Well. The next time I kill an Avenger, you’ll be the first to know,” Victorious replies dutifully, turning back to the computer he's working on, frying the radar signals of India or some shit, Nathan was never listening. “Excluding their crying loved ones, of course.”

“That’s what I mean,” Nathan groans. “In what way is hearing about or watching you kill these people being a part of it?” Victor straightens up, hair comically out of place, face confused, and for a few fleeting moments he’s cute and harmless enough that Nathan can forget how everything smells like dried blood and gore and society is in shambles, and think he only has a dumb genius robot boyfriend, not a genocidal one.

“Do you want to murder your friends?” They’re not my friends, Nathan bites back, and that isn't the point. “Do you want me to put a gun in your hand and let you shoot Kate Bishop in the chest?”

“No,” Nathan swallows, that’s an oddly specific threat accompanied by Victor’s intense expression, one that says if Kate isn't already dead, that's how he'll take her out. “I just mean- I don’t get what you keep me around for.” Like most trains of thought, Nathan’s not entirely sure where he’s going with this one. But it’s been weeks since Victor put him anywhere near the line of fire and maybe from all those years of Avenging, Nathan feels a little stir crazy. A lingering notion in the back of his skull says he should want to be out there to protect his teammates, to catch Victorious when his guard is done, to realize once and for all that he is never getting Victor back. Instead he just feels left behind, kept out of the loop long enough he’s willing to overlook that the loop includes horrific slaughter.

Victorious stands and Nathan grimaces at how his slow, lingering approach doesn't worry him the same way anymore. More anticipation than dread, and the increase of his own heartbeat now follows a different pace, like when you're opening a present, instead of when you're about to get stabbed.

“You’re here because this is what I want to do,” the cyborg says, carefully, the same tone he uses to go over the details of a mission Nathan’s half-assed, something the heavy hitters on the Avengers could take that’s suddenly fallen to their responsibility. Something that’s obvious to anyone left alive to see it. “This is my-”

Nathan scoffs, “Programming, but that’s bullshit!” He doesn't flinch anymore when Victor catches him, half smiling at the fingers forming bruises against his skin.

“No,” Victorious slides over him. “It’s my dream. And what’s the point of achieving your dreams if there’s no one there to share it with?”

Nathan had sort of been hoping the killing Hank Pym part was a last step, not for any residual affection for the old guy, but out of pure showmanship. You don’t put the biggest part of your act middle, you save it for the finale. Any good magician would know that. But Victorious likes to show off, even if there are few and far between superheroes willing to come out and face him after he eviscerated The Hulk, but. It’s a style thing, Nathan figures, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, looking over the mangled, but still mostly alive Pym splayed out before them.

“You’re worse than he is,” Hank spits, and Nathan shrugs without raising his arms, pretty much. It’s the usual taunt from heroes about to die betrayed. The wind howls between them and he glances to the usually prolific monologuer suddenly gone silent.

“Vic?” It’s stupid, but it literally never goes away, Nathan’s hoping every hesitation, every blank look is The One, is his best friend back to him. It happened twice before, on New Moore. He was unlucky enough to be present for one of them, to watch Victorious shift to Victor, his face go from menacing to terrified, slipping on the blood in his apartment when he bolted.

(“I’m sorry I left,” Victor had said, mid-apologizing over the murders. “When I woke up-- I should’ve tried to help.”

“No, I was pretty much dead,” Nathan lied, pushing the cleaning supplies out of his soon to be best friend’s hands, pulling him to his feet. “I didn’t see you switch back.”)

“Victor?” Nathan heart soars at the uneasy twist of his neck.

“Waiting for confirmation,” he replies, toneless.

A dull spot in his stomach goes ice cold, “What the hell does that mean? Pym’s right there.”

“Waiting for confirmation.” And it’s too mechanical, which is somehow fucking worse than a villain speech and Nathan grabs Victor by his shoulders. Hank tilts his head back and howls through the blood in his mouth.

“Oh, that’s rich.”

“‘the hell happened to him?” Nathan demands, giving Victor’s rigid shoulders another shake. He meets eye contact but it’s missing something, like after a decade of dealing with the robot, suddenly at a crucial moment he’s got a whole uncanny valley vibe to his face. “How’d you shut him down?” For a guy whose friends are mostly dead, Hank looks stupidly pleased with himself.

“I didn’t. He’s online, just- waiting for confirmation.” When Nathan glowers through his confusion, Pym continues, “From Ultron,” he chuckles, eyes raised. “I guess he couldn’t bear to have someone else kill me, so he programmed Victor to call for him before he did.”

“We’re on fucking hold with your more evil robot spawn??” Nathan swears loudly, turning back to face his boyfriend. “You picked a hell of a time to get attached to your deadbeat dad!” He shoves Victorious aside, disgusted, railing on, “We went through all of this just so somebody else could take Pym out??” he demands, because it’s infinitely easier to be unhappy with the flaws in the plan than at yourself for letting it happen this way.

Hank is already shifting from ecstatic to depressed, moaning, “He never built Victor to succeed, he just wanted him to set a stage. If I hadn’t been a coward, turned myself in months ago, maybe no one would have to die-”

“No,” Nathan snarls, rolling his sleeves up. “No, you’re all still going to die; we just have to wait for his dad to get here!” Victor recites his orders a few more times, quiet under the wind, the emptiness of a hollowed-out city created purely for scenery. Nathan twists against the emptiness, face clouding over as well, waiting for the approach of the worst of all in-laws.

"You're an idiot," Hank says eventually, somewhere between smug and sad in his chains. “Don’t you think if Ultron was around he’d have shown up by now?”

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NGL IM EXCITED FOR GHOSTS BUT NOT PLANNING ON A PARTYCITY TRIP ANYTIME SOON

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Re: NGL IM EXCITED FOR GHOSTS BUT NOT PLANNING ON A PARTYCITY TRIP ANYTIME SOON

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Five adventures of the last Majesdanian

Five teenage apprentices Stephen Strange takes on

Five women Lon'qu can stand to be around.

Five things about the beach party at the end of Avengers Arena

FIVE THINGS ABOUT THE ROBOBROS PACIFIC RIM AU

four times cullen needed something from elsa (and one time she needed something from him)

five people who had their lives ruined by the cox-sullivan children

i. J.D
ii. J.D
iii. J.D
iv. J.D
v. J.D

five people who went supervillain instead of victor

four times victor tried to mentor cullen (and one time it actually sort of worked)

five heroes victorious killed!!

five people victor hooked up with before nathan

FIVE TIMES NATHAN STAYED DEAD

PHEW SAFE

four times victor surprised nathan (and one time nathan surprised him)

four secrets johanna kept from finnick (and one she told him)

five terrible crushes cullen developed

five things that never happened to nathan and victor

i have drafted this and i realized halfway through they dont have to necessarily be sad things TOO BAD

five avengers group texts

five times victor regretted letting nathan move in

i.
Victor likes testing his limits. It became a habit on the island, whenever the other Runaways were still ‘released,’ or when New Moore universe fuckery left his sense of self-preservation low. Routine self-experimentation; How long he could go without sleep or food or water, that kind of thing. Vriska had told him it was masochistic, but what science isn't?

When he came home he fell out of the routine, mostly because after the Diamond, Victor couldn't mention breaking down without Pym breaking down with him. No one in Mexico would give him an opportunity. So that was a perk to being a part of the Avengers; as long as he assembled when he was called, he could run as many ability tests as he could stomach. Lining himself against the edges of a what human necessities his artificial body didn’t need, what he could rebuild without an R&D department. There was no one around to notice, no troll kids to set an example for, no babysitters to risk disappointing. Victor could strain against whatever construction flaws Marianella and Ultron might’ve overlooked in the planning stage, simultaneously happy for the little connection it still gave him to his mom, and the petulant distance it put between him and his father.

He didn’t immediately connect the dots that having a roommate might interfere with this hobby.

“Jesus!” Nathan yelps, springing back from the prone figure over the couch, keys clattering to the floor.

Victor grimaces at his flatmate, face half immobilized by the cushions he collapsed on. “It’s fine.”

“It doesn't fucking look fine,” Nathan hisses, his hands quickly at his sides in case Victor noticed his initial grab at his own chest (he did). Victor wonders if Nathan’s regenerative heart can actually skip a beat. He wonders why cracked ribs aren’t even enough to stop gay thoughts.

“In a couple hours it’ll be fine,” the cyborg assures him, but it’s hard to placate someone who’s just walked in on a half gutted automaton roommate, especially when they’ve only turned in one month’s rent so far. “Sorry, I just got back. I was gonna get to my room but,” Victor breaks off into a coughing fit, desperately hoping the couch around him will absorb the shock to his still shattered ribs. Even with an active self-repair factor, internal breaks will take significantly longer to heal than flesh injuries- which was the theory he thought up to test after falling four stories earlier that day. Banner offered to take him to the hospital, since it had been the other guy’s fault Victor was knocked through the window, but he’s a scientist, so he understood an alternative approach. Probably, Victor hadn’t really run any of these theories past anyone else before- especially not a genius like Doctor Banner.

He squints at the Irishman hovering over him, whose own eyes are darting nervously around the room. There hadn’t really been anyone else before now.

“Go to the hospital,” Nathan orders, but it’s not very convincing; it’s too early in his Avengers tenure for him to know if hospitals even cover robot injuries. His command wavers, though he’s quick to add with the usual immortal confidence, “You sound like shit.” Like a throat raw with blood was proof of anything.

“It’s fine.”

Nathan throws his hands in the air, stalking away and telling the cyborg to stop fucking saying that already. Victor closes his eyes slowly, and listens to Nathan’s heavy footsteps pace through the apartment, out of earshot. It matches his own heartbeat, or he’s tired enough to confuse the two, feeling himself slip back to sleep.

“Here,” his voice cuts into Victor’s doze, and all of a sudden Nathan’s hand is at his mouth. Victor twists away in such a blind panic his front tooth nearly chips the edge of the glass. He doesn’t like the feeling of Nathan’s hands on his skin, however chaste and accidental, it chips at something else inside him that Victor does like, that he really doesn’t want to revisit, least of all with mashed up insides.

“What the hell are you doing,” Victor demands, but only ekes out the “wha” before white spots cover his vision and his ribs snap with agony. He hurriedly curls into the farthest point on the couch from Nathan with his handful of pills and water.

“Christ, sorry, I thought you’d wanna take something for the pain-”

“I already did,” he spits between the creaking of his bones- would it have killed Ultron to line them with metal?? “Dios. It’s fine, just- back off-”

When Victor wakes up, his ribs have wound together enough that he could turn on his side, face tucked into the crux of his elbow. Recent tests show shattered bones fix slower than cuts, but quicker than bruises, so even if his bones feel sturdier, Victor is slow to easing up, testing the remaining extent of his injuries. Yep, chest still feels like he caught the pavement with it, probably best to keep moving to a minimum. He’s dealt with residual bruising before, that’ll fix itself within the next 24 hours. He wonders how Ultron expected him to write off this kind of stuff. Would he come up as an Inhuman? Probably not worth trying to find a method to dad’s madness, testing or not.

He squints through the now dark apartment, trying to read the clock. It’s late enough Nathan is asleep, or Victor’s cagey and uncooperative attitude chased him out.

Victor’s nose brushes against the edge of the thick comforter that’s been draped over him. Nathan must’ve dragged it off his bed. He sits up and lets his eyes adjust, absently thumbing the edge of the blanket. It’s been long enough since he had a best friend that he can’t remember if this sort of kindness is normal, or just another thing he’ll look too deep into. He’s not sure he wants to run tests on that.

Edited 2015-01-08 23:00 (UTC)

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five things about growing up bloodstone

five scenes from son(s) of ultron

Five moments inside the Mentors' Lounge

i.
It started about four years after Haymitch won, he thinks. Around then things start to get hazy, because the bottle got more appealing and the room was more crowded with people who'd known each other long enough to be friendly. There was an older crowd, along with Mags, that gave way for younger mentors, a fresh face each year while someone happily (or in the first few District's case, not so happily) stayed home for the ceremonies.

They were younger and drunker or at least Haymitch had been.

"Fifteen credits on your boy biting it in the next hour," Haymitch slurs, hand on Chaff's shoulder. He swat the kid away with his good hand, but pays up when it came true.

"You don't think that's a little distasteful?" Saura sniffs, District Five, wound up with all the meds to keep her body moving after the night terrors.

"Lady," Haymitch mutters, sinking as deep into the couch as he could manage, smothering the sound of his own Tributes being slaughtered. "I think we make our own tastefulness from now on."

Twenty credits on Enobaria, was the next bet. It was a solid win, not that any of them needed the money.

ii.
One of the Careers has a baby.

It's not new or anything, Careers take to the Games as easily as breathing, so finding someone to spend the rest of their hard-won lives with isn't as difficult as it is for the outlying regions. They just usually don't coach other kids to kill when they're bouncing one of their own on their knee.

It's like looking at an alien, passing the picture of a baby between them while Devon brags to the air about the boy's weight, his firm grip.

"He'll be in here with us in no time, huh?" someone says, someone who ends up with no teeth for the rest of the night. They were lucky, Devon crushed skulls in his Games, and teeth are easier to replace than brain matter. Still, the message is clear; Even for a Career, this isn't exactly the honor you go to night hoping to bestow on your children.

Cecelia is pregnant, but there weren't any other female champions in 11 to mentor in her place. The other mentors give her a couch to herself, let her put her feet up. It's naturally more foreign to them than the photo of the baby, that there is a live person in her belly, that in twelve short years the kid could be in front of them on that screen. It's a threat nobody raises, not just to save their teeth. You can't let the kids from another district be real, they can't be flesh and blood to you when you're not the one spilling it.

Edited 2014-12-11 20:06 (UTC)

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heppy fether's dey henk pem

Re: heppy fether's dey henk pem

you absolute monster

five ways victor's bad end could’ve gone

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slides in on sockfeet

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done

i'm bringing this one back bc i still love it

maybe i just want to see you write cullen so what

aka five ways to make cbran cry

it's a race to the weirdest

I AM GETTING YOU BEFORE YOU GET ME GOD I WANT A SIBLING REFUND TODAY

the pilot light defeated me but i am still alive

oops did you NOT mean for me to get on a roll?? (suzy voice) TOO BAAAAAD

HAHA NOW I DON'T HAVE TO

remember when you started riffing on this and it made me cry me too

Re: remember when you started riffing on this and it made me cry me too

jk i'm still fighting the pilot light and coming up with these in between

sorry that i still think this is the funniest shit in the world

five times victor regretted letting nathan move in

i should stop

feel free to get revenge i'm done i'm ACTUALLY GIVING UP ON THE PILOT LIGHT NOW fuck's sake

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THIS WAS ALREADY WRITTEN AND I WANNA POST IT