❝My Rescuer❞

[mirrormirrormeme]

❝My Rescuer❞ Shipping Meme There is no possible way the two of you could have gotten off on better footing. One of you saved the other. You were complete strangers - or just as good as - yet someone put aside that fact and swooped in when they saw trouble like a guardian angel, whether because of their own moral reasoning or just being at the right place at the right time. The one who was saved? Well, they can't help but be grateful to their rescuer...and, perhaps, all that high octane emotion will lead to more. After all, you've never felt so much towards one person. Will you be able to finally have peace alongside this person, or is all really as it seems? How to Play Comment with your character, preferences, and etc. Is your character more likely to rescue, be rescued, or either? Reply to others. RNG for your prompt and thread! Prompts No Hope: They were in a situation that looked incredibly bleak, such as being kidnapped or held prisoner. It was likely they would never see freedom or happiness again. That was something you couldn't stand for. Life Threatening: It was a simple accident, but it could have ended their life. You stepped in and pushed them out of the way or caught them as they fell. Harassment: Hey, leave them alone, pal! They clearly don't want your attention or your perverse remarks. Stand Up: You're being tormented and verbally abused by your peers. Finally, though, someone steps in and defends you. See Myself in You: They're different - like you are. You don't think they deserve to be treated this way...and neither would you. Ridiculous: Uh oh. A giant octopus is attacking you! Can anyone, will anyone save you from certain doom? Saved...From Boredom: Your life seemed like it was in black and white before this person introduced you to color. Superhero: Saving people is your job. Why is this case any different? Justice: What's happening before you is disgusting. You have to get justice for this victim; of course, that "justice" may also be needed for yourself and your sense of fragile reality. Spur of the Moment: Rescuing someone was never in your plan, but you couldn't pass up the chance. Love at First Sight: They saved you, and you fell. Or the other way around. Bring Back Happiness: All that was good has faded until you got a new lease on life. Guilt Complex: In the past, you failed. You'll never let anyone get hurt again. Not Only a Job: Technically, you were hired to take this person from their captor to another captor, yet in the end, you changed your mind. Warming Up: You can't help but soften towards someone you owe your life to. Honor Among Thieves: Your record may not be squeaky clean, but there are acts even you cannot condone. Gone Too Far: Your rage at seeing a living being treated this way has welled up, and the one who was victimized has to pull you back. Can they? Hurt Because of Me: In your defense, your savior has been injured. You feel a certain sense of sinking culpability. Patched Up: After the fight, both of you care for each others' mental and physical wounds. Who Rescued Who?: They may have physically saved you, but you emotionally saved them. The Truth Comes Out: You learned that your "rescue" was a fabrication to gain your trust. Has your relationship changed them? Even if it has, can you ever believe them again? All's Well: Once out of the limelight and out of harms way, you two can explore the prospect of getting to know each other better. Violent Delights Have Violent Ends: Your relationship ends as it began: with violence and despair. Doesn't Last: All of your attractions are a flash in the pan. When it comes down to it, you can't make it work between you when there's no danger to draw you close. WILDCARD

Comments

aoba seragaki || dramatical murder || m/m

[dramaticalblue]

[ can be either role, but most interested in being the one needing to be rescued. not interested in 6 or 8. ]

Matt Murdock | Daredevil

[blindstrike]

[Would like to switch it up and have him be rescued. Slower prose preferred]

10ish (still haven't seen S2 yet, but I'm cool with spoilers)

[owesdebts]

She hadn't gone out looking for anything more than something to take her mind off her problems. Natasha didn't do peace and quiet well. It gave her mind too much room to remind her of everything she didn't want to think about. She preferred distractions, generally something that didn't give her time to do more than react -- at least, that's what she was looking for when she needed to stop thinking. Stop remembering. Stop brooding over things she couldn't change.

So she'd gone out. She'd have to be deaf and blind to not know about certain things taking place not far from where she lay her head, but it was low-scale. Not worth them turning their attention to, or that was the official line, anyway. Unless someone in Hell's Kitchen wound up with a particle beam or a mystical scepter that could enchant people and potentially open a doorway to destroy the world, it was deemed too 'mundane' to get involved in. Besides, from all accounts, someone seemed to have it mostly in hand, barring a few explosions.

But hey, that was just a good time, right? And maybe that kind of good time was exactly what she was looking for. So out she went, and trouble she found. But it was being handled by exactly who she'd thought would be doing it -- until the mundane and boring hoods somehow multiplied in that way that bad guys do (where do they all come from?) and Matt found himself with, apparently, more than he could handle. As she crept closer over the rooftop and looked down, she decided that the minor injuries he'd picked up might be hindering him a little, as would that nasty flaw he had in not killing. See, now if he'd just broken that one guy's neck, maybe he'dve been too dead to reach up from the ground and stab a pocket knife into his calf. Rookie mistake, even with the training they'd been doing. But that mistake had her deciding to join in on the fun. No masks needed for her, nor wanted, and red hair was deceptively vivid in the darkness of the abandoned lot beside the building she'd been watching from, the red of her hair one of the only flashes of color aside from the white blur of her skin that wasn't covered as she dropped down onto the shoulders of the thug lumbering towards Matt pulling a knife from his leg, feeling the crack under her thigh as a collarbone snapped, hooking a knee around his neck as she used the force of her fall and momentum to swing them around, roll him to the side and over as she slipped away from him and got to her feet. There was a smile on her face as she faced the rest of the combatants, all of them looking surprised as hell to see her. "Don't stop on my account, boys. Fun's just starting."

[blindstrike]

He probably shouldn't be out. Between getting shot in the head and then taking another beating thanks to Frank and the Dogs of Hell, Matt knows he isn't in his best shape. Too bad his night job isn't the kind you can take vacations from – he takes a sick day, he can lie there on the couch and hear the gunshots and think maybe I could've stopped that. It's that guilt that has him tossing back an Ibuprofen and back out on the streets, trying to shake down the criminals out there who've heard of the Punisher and his bloodbath but don't seem too eager to share details. Seems like he would have to beat it out of them the old-fashioned way.

It's going okay considering the concussion, the bruises and fractured rib up until one of the guys whips out a knife and sticks it into his calf. Melvin's suit of armor stops the majority of the attack but instead of hitting bone, he still gets about half an inch of steel in the meat of his leg. Matt stumbles, wrenching the knife away, pain shooting up his leg as he makes the mistake of putting his full weight on it. He's so focused on making sure he lasts the next two minutes before he gets dogpiled that he misses that familiar heartbeat, the whisper of short hair he hasn't heard in months now. Natasha swooping into the fray, the crack of bone that for once wasn't because of him, and taking up his back has him reeling. Matt's hands come up in that familiar boxer stance, fists balled (better armor this time), and he can hear Natasha's smile in her voice, just like he remembers.

He doesn't waste his breath until they're done. Even with Natasha's hands-on training, he isn't at the point where he can mow his way through a bunch of lowlifes and have enough breath for one-liners. Mostly he's focused on the fight, making sure he doesn't actually kill anyone. From the sound of Black Widow and her whirlwind behind him, he's assuming she's doing the same – if only because he's watching and she knows how he gets if she doesn't pull her punches.

A few minutes later and they're surrounded by the unconscious, Matt's harsh breaths cutting through the night air. He stoops to check on of them, one hand reaching to brace himself against the asphalt as his world spins and tilts for a long few seconds.

“What brings you into my neck of the woods?” Matt closes his eyes behind his mask, centers himself, and then goes back to checking the thug for anything useful, his ears on Nat.

[owesdebts]

She has a dozen smartass replies to that lined up, but when she sees just how close to the edge he is, that moment of him losing his balance, they dry up in her throat, leaving her watching him and trying to visually assess him for damage. Had he been keeping an arm closer to his side than he usually did? Ribs? Wouldn't surprise her at all if, stubborn jackass that he was, he'd gone out to tussle with broken ribs. There was a scowl on her face as she came closer to him, stopping a foot or so away, waiting for him to rise, to move so she could get a better gauge on him. "I need a reason?"

Of course, there was a world of hidden meanings there, some of them along the lines of 'am I not allowed to care?', but out here on the blacktop surrounded by unconscious bodies didn't exactly seem the place to bring that up.

[blindstrike]

Matt reaches up with one gloved hand to touch his nose, his fingers coming away with the metal tang of fresh blood. Bleeding again. Can't tell if it's from earlier, when he first felt blood oozing down as his hearing zeroed out or maybe one of the men got just lucky when they were trying to get a good hit in. "It would help, yeah."

He knows she's good to help and that she isn't about to make this too messy for him. But even with how close they got months ago, he knows she has an agenda he can only guess at - a larger picture that wouldn't even register when he's so busy with his own little corner of New York, the day job he refuses to quit to make this easier.

"There's a new player in town I'm sure you know more about than I do," Matt doesn't seem to find anything on the first guy, dropping him with a dull thud of his head cracking against pavement. He moves onto the next one, aware that Nat's probably visually stripping down for mistakes he made, how rusty he might've gotten with her training - both on the mat and when it was a game of Find Romanoff's Newest Weapon Cache around Hell's Kitchen.

[owesdebts]

"I felt like checking up on you. Reason enough?" It was a half-truth. She'd had a lot on her mind lately and Matt had always provided a bit of stress relief, either as a partner in combating crime or other more baser ways. It wasn't love and neither of them was naive or foolish enough to even pretend that was the case, but it was affection. Responsibility. A friendship of sorts that was a little different from what they had with other people. But usually it worked for them.

The tone in his voice told her that usually might not apply for tonight. She stays where she is, watching him in that way she has that's as good at picking up the little things as his abilities are. He's tired, snapping at her, slow and borderline lethargic. "You're too hurt to be out here tonight. This your way of trying to retire?"

[blindstrike]

"That's not a reason," Matt mutters under his breath.

He's satisfied that all of the men here are unconscious and aren't about to leap up and attack the two of them - probably better for their own good since Nat's here, capable of opening up a whole new world of pain they didn't know was possible. Enough to make his beatings look like love taps.

Matt braces himself against his knee to collect himself before he gets to his feet and hopes he doesn't wobble. Normally he'd find Nat's bluntness charming, the way she wraps it up with a dash of sarcasm to keep it interesting, to hide the concern he knows is there too even as her words sting. Tonight he just doesn't have the energy for it, seeing as how he thinks he blew his last reserves on the last guy he knocked out.

"I can still do my job," Matt digs in his heels, stubborn as usual. The few months they've been apart hasn't changed that - in fact, it seems to be worse, as if a part of him is trying to make up for what happened a few nights ago. "Do you have anything I can use about this player or not?"

[owesdebts]

"Just because you don't like the reason doesn't make it less of one." She gave him a pointed look. Don't take your crappy day out on her, Matt. She'd helped here and whether he wanted to admit it or not, he'd needed it. So grin and bear it and thank the pretty lady for taking time out of her day to clean up his messes.

She huffs a laugh, coming over to stand in front of him. "Not for much longer if you keep this crap up. You want to last? You need to take care of yourself, otherwise your criminal element is going to be piddling themselves over the broken body dragging itself towards them by its fingertips." She didn't answer the last question, deciding that if he wanted actual information from her, he was going to have to play nicer than he was. He wasn't the only one who could pull the moody card.

[blindstrike]

The problem is he knows damn well that she's right. Doesn't make it any easier to stand there catching his breath, ignoring the slight tilt and roll of the asphalt under his boots, and have to bite his tongue before he snaps again and proves her point for her. It hasn't escaped his notice that she's doing that thing where she's being coy with selective hearing, withholding information until he shapes up.

Matt reflexes his hand, sore, aching, and reaches up to scrub at the fresh blood against his face with the other. He'd feel a lot better if Nat was upfront for once in her life about why she was here and how much she was going to help - assuming she was even here for that. For all he knows, this could be a quick, personal visit, a SHIELD agent's version of a house call before she gets to her real misson.

"I'll go home after this," Matt has that tone of you happy now?. "Promise I won't sneak out behind your back."

cassandra pentaghast | dragon age: inquisition

[divinerights]

[ Either role works! ]

Ophelia | Fire Emblem Fates

[laughlouder]

[Either roll!]

Natasha Romanoff | MCU | F/M

[owesdebts]

[Open to either role.]

[greenscientist]

[ooc: any preference on who needs rescuing?]

[owesdebts]

[I'm game for anything if you've got something in mind.]

1

[greenscientist]

It had seemed like weeks since he'd last seen daylight. Since he'd seen anything but white for a long time. White walls, white ceiling, white coated people milling about in front of him with needles in hand.

He had thought initially it was the General who had captured him but that theory was soon abandoned in favor of a bigger enemy. Hydra.
They had developed a new injection, one that had rendered him extremely mellow and cooperative. Incapable of getting angry without a considerable amount of effort. But they kept him too drugged up for that to happen. Just so they could carry out their own experiments with replicating his results with the Hulk.

Bruce levered his eyelids open again, another white coated figure bending over him with a needle. He had tried to escape many times but each time it got harder. He was at the point where he really didn't care anymore what they did to him. He was never getting out of here. Letting his eyes close again so he could block it all out and sleep again.

[owesdebts]

While she hadn't actively been searching for him, deciding he was as entitled to walk away from her and his space as anyone, she'd kept her ear out for anything involving him. It had been a few months before she'd caught wind of something, whispered little plans about experiments involving gamma radiation and genetics. While she knew Blonsky existed, she also knew he was tucked away where eyes were on him twenty-four/seven. That left only one option and she'd dug into that little hint of a whisper to uncover the details.

Two weeks after that had found her at the base where Bruce was being held, something she'd found, frankly, to be a bit of an impossibility. Yet she could see with her own eyes that he was heavily sedated with an experimental drug, needles and prongs and wires hooked up to him to make him an obscene sort of fusion between man and machine. She'd taken the place of a technician, walking towards him with another needle out of a hundred million others he must have had pricked into him, leaning over and seeing him look up foggily towards her. She didn't dare pull the mask down that covered her lower face to reassure him, trying to make him see the familiarity in her eyes instead.

When his closed, she knew he was too out of it to pick up on anything, leaving her with few options. The needle in her hand was used to pick at the locks on the straps holding him down, Natasha slicing the tubes that were leaking the sickly toxin into him that was able to do what nothing else had; repress that inner monster. A monster she very much wanted to wake up soon so she could get them both out of there.

Another technician was headed her way, no one having noticed the leaks yet -- mostly since she hadn't disconnected the electrical wires yet. Her eyes flicked over to the monitors, watching as his heart rate started to trip upward, the assassin praying that his ability to heal would push that crap out of his system quickly. She moved as if drawing the needle out of him, patting him on the arm as she did before moving to the side to make as if she was looking over numbers on a machine. Things might have gone a little more smoothly if the tech coming over hadn't let out a surprised exclamation, foot slipping on the leaked sedative that had been dripping and making a pool on the floor. "Hey...!" the tech said, looking down at the floor, then up to the severed wires. Then over to her. Time was up.

She felt a sense of satisfaction in reaching over and punching him squarely in the nose, feeling the cartilage break under her fist and watching as his head snapped back, eyes rolling back as he slid to the floor. She had a moment to enjoy it before a klaxon went off and all hell started to break loose. "If you're planning on joining the party, Banner, sooner would be better than later." She moved to start pulling the wires attached to him free, jerking the straps off before she had to duck down to avoid a tranq gun aimed her way.

[greenscientist]

Something small stirred inside of him, more instinct than his own attempt to wake up. His eyes fluttered open again and blinked, finding a strange scene in front of him.

It must be a hallucination.

Because it looked like Natasha punching someone's lights out. A sad smile ghosted across his face. He'd been wanting to do that for days. His mind must be finally cracking up.

And then a jarring reality screams overhead in the form of the alarm. He definitely wasn't imagining that. It drove painful spikes through his sleepy brain, only half hearing what Tasha said. Her voice was enough.

His eyes flashed green as the guard was raising his weapon...a half second later, the same guard was flying across the room from a green fist in his face.

Hulk was groggy, but no less mad for what had been going on. He struggled to his feet, breaking the stretcher behind him and passing a big hand over his face. Ugh, what a wakeup call.

[owesdebts]

She was both relieved to see a white-clad body go sailing across the room and vaguely terrified. She had no idea what condition Hulk would be in since he was half drugged, reminded of the carnage he'd created during Wanda's little escapade. If Hulk wasn't in his right mind, he might forget that red hair equaled a friendly face and she felt the bottom drop out from her stomach at the thought. But she'd come here knowing that was a potential outcome and saving him from HYDRA, keeping them from creating more like him, something she knew he'd not only hate but feel personally guilty over... she had to try to stop that.

"Glad you joined the party, Big Guy. Now, how about we show these idiots the error of their ways, hmm?" Said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes as she ran and vaulted over a piece of equipment to ram her knee into the chest of a guard lifting a tranq gun towards their test subject.

[greenscientist]

First thing he did was turn off that horrible noise blaring over his head. With a scowl, his fist comes up to smash the flashing red light, the alarm dying a painful death before stopping.

He didn't feel right. Fuzzy, off balance. He'd been kept under this hazy blanket of drugs for so long, it was hard to remember what he was doing here in the first place. However, the first shot that's fired in his direction that bounces off his skin, he zeroes in on the culprit and picks up the stretcher pieces to fling it at them. It crashes against the far wall. That was satisfying.

The red haired woman's voice was filtering through and he gives her a suspicious look. Who are you again? No time for pleasantries, there were more coming. Hulk braces up the door with a nearby shelving unit to keep them out. They needed an alternate escape route.

[owesdebts]

Confusion was better than rage. She'll take that any day. Give him enough time to see that she's on his side and maybe he'll wake up from whatever they had him under. Hulked out or not, she could see that he was only half there at the moment. With the alarm destroyed, she looked over towards the air vent on the far wall. "We're underground right now. If you can follow one of those up, we'll hit the surface."

And by 'follow one of those up', she sort of meant 'punch through everything in that general direction'. He wasn't dumb, he could figure it out himself. She ducked as a bullet came winging her way, pinging off the wall beside her as the gloves, as they say, came off and live ammo was used. Live ammo that would have zero effect on their guinea pig and unfortunate death if she was caught in the crossfire. Well, she'd just have to stay on her toes.

Corey | Teen Wolf | M/M

[hiddenchimera]

((Could be either.))

soleil | fire emblem fates | f/f

[sunnymerc]

[Either role works for her. ]

Vinnie Smalls | Buying Time | M/M

[dailyleisurecredits]

_{[Open to either role.]}

Makoto Kino | Sailor Moon

[stronglikeoak]