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youarejesting · 4 years ago

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Sly like a... ? Part 7

[Master list] [Sly Master List] Beta: n/a (at the moment) Rating: All Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x FailedHybrid!Reader Genre: Hybrid au, fluff, action, adventure, angst, drama, slice of life. Some marked chapters will contain mature/smut scenes, BUT they will not have plot in those scenes and are 100% skippable without losing your place in the story. Words: 2.2k

Summary: Human’s strive to be better, faster and stronger looking to animal DNA. Thus Hybrids are born. As the rise for designer and Pedigree Hybrids increase, so do the failed attempts. There is one species scientists are unsuccessful in creating, but, folklore says they have been here all along, hiding and blending in with the humans for many millennia. How clever they are.

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Sleep broken by the whispers of scheming hybrids in your kitchen, "She loves blueberry pancakes so we are going to make them," Jimin's voice was softened and traveled like mist through the air. Your ear twitched as you pretended to be asleep a little longer not to spoil their plans. It was amazing to hear them all cooperating with one another.

There was a knock at the door and you almost laughed when he called out, "Someone gets the door before he wakes Y/n." Namjoon said Jungkook and Hoseok scurried to the door and opened it with a long and heavy shush.

"Y/n is sleeping," Hoseok whispered hushing the boy

"We are making pancakes," Jungkook explained, helping Taehyung inside, he dropped his bag and huddled with the others by the kitchen bench, you were watching them in the reflection of the television quietly bickering.

"Can I put the blueberries in?" Taehyung asked excitedly.

"Jungkook already asked to do that job," Jimin sighed, “and before you ask, Yoongi is cooking them, Namjoon added the flour, Seokjin added the eggs and Hoseok did the milk.”

“So there is nothing left to do,” Taehyung sounded so dejected, you wanted to tell him it was the thought that counts but Jimin beat you too with a job claimed only he could do.

“Go out back and get a few cute flowers, not too many and you can put it in one of the nice vases for Y/n, okay?”

The hybrid was quick to scamper out the back door in search of flowers. The sweet sizzle of pancake batter in a pan made you breathe deeply. You gave them ten minutes, you were being so considerate even though your neck was cramped.

‘Waking’ to the clatter behind you, you faked a yawn and quickly stretched sitting up, trying to appear like you hadn’t heard the whole pancake ordeal. It was cute hearing them whispering hurriedly and clamoring around behind you.

“Quickly put them on the plate?”

“Wait, put the flower on the tray too.”

“Someone, distract her,” Jimin said while you tried to check your phone inconspicuously.

“Good morning?” Hoseok smiled dragging Yoongi over, you continued ‘answering an email’ slowly scratching your head.

“Oh, Good morning, just give me a second to finish this email,” You signed off the fake email and saved it to your drafts. “Okay, all done, sorry just replying to some important emails to the school. “How are you this morning, should I make some breakfast?”

“Uh, Yoongi wanted to ask something?” Hoseok said and you paused, “Alright, what can I help you with Yoongi?”

“I was wondering if today when we go shopping if we could possibly pick up some, uh…” He looked around for something to come to mind. He seemed to be panicking and you stood up and took his hand.

“Yoongi, you know you can ask for anything right?” you rubbed his hands and looked at Hoseok and back to him, “Is this something personal you want to ask me?”

“No, it’s like that, I was wondering if I could get a CD player?” He said eyes widening at the thought.

“Would you like a CD player and CD’s or I can get you a phone and give you and pay for unlimited music then it’s portable and I can get you a nice pair of headphones?” You made sure knew his options, “It’s up to you honey?”

“Uh yeah, portable would be great,” he blushed his toes curling nervously in the fluffy rug. “If it isn’t too much? I mean it probably is, so don’t worry about it…”

“No it will be perfect for your studying to drown out the other boys and I will get you all phones anyway so we can just buy the unlimited music pass.” You smiled “I want to spoil you boys and get you everything you need and more to be comfortable especially if you are going through university, I don’t want you to think or be stressed about anything bad.”

“Good morning!” Jungkook grinned and you turned to see them all standing around the table with the a pancakes, “We made you breakfast!”

“Nice distraction,” Seokjin clapped Hoseok and Yoongi on the shoulders. You made a show of enjoying the pancakes and shared them with everyone telling them to get ready to go out as you were going to be doing a big shop.

Once everyone was strapped into the van and dressed you headed out to the store and found a park. “Alright listen to me, no matter what I will not leave anyone behind, so I would like you to walk in groups there is eight of us so let’s walk in two groups of four. Jimin will lead Namjoon, Seokjin and Taehyung, I will take Jungkook, Hoseok and Yoongi.”

But for now everyone follow me you guided them into the store, if you ever get lost please find an information desk in any store, they are marked with an i and they will make an announcement letting me know where you are. Otherwise, this is your temporary outing bracelets that have my name and number on them” You handed them out and they all grinned.

“Now that you know all of that lets go into the department store fore some clothes and such,” You handed Jimin a card and told him the budget he had and you all began exploring. They all trailed after you unwilling to part and well you were shopping in the same area. “Yoongi, this looks like it is your size, do you want to try it on for me?”

“Jungkook, these are your size, try them on too, I will be right outside” You smiled, we can talk the entire time. “They went in and you were talking to Hoseok and Taehyung who were giggling about different clothes”

“Seokjin, that’s a lovely shirt but try it on love the shoulders look a little narrow, Namjoon, that is interesting” You laughed watching Namjoon make strange outfits.

“Y/n, what about this pretty shirt?” Jimin asked passing Seokjin who took two sizes to the dressing room.

“That is from the ladies section,” Namjoon pointed at the blouse.

“Clothes aren’t gendered Joonie, you can wear any clothes in this store, I have this jacket at home and it is made for men but I look cute in it.” You explained, gesturing to the jacket and turned to Jimin “Go try it on, with these dress pants Jimin, I bet it will make you look really handsome”

Someone cleared there throat behind you and you smiled, Uh, that sweater is too big Yoongi, we will get you a smaller one and Jungkook they look really good, so if you want to find clothes in these sizes you may”

Seokjin stepped out and placed the smaller size on the returns rack and you took his shirt and placed it in your basket. Watching Hoseok and Taehyung and Namjoon head to the dressing rooms with fun styles.

“How do I look?” Jimin stepped out looking long legged and like a prince charming.

“Like an angel?” you laughed, “your hair is getting a little long do you want a cut?”

“It is a bit long isn’t it, maybe I should cut it,” He laughed fiddling with the ends.

After clothes, you went to a store for shoes and then to a restaurant for lunch. It was after lunch waiting by the toilets that Yoongi and Jungkook expressed their interest in an electronic store wanting to look at their headphones and computers. You sent them over but they walked back quickly.

“What happened?” You asked confused as to why they came back so quickly, they couldn’t have looked at the phones that quick. Their ears were pressed down and they looked upset.

“They kicked us out,” Jungkook mumbled, “They called us strays and said that we couldn’t shoplift in their store”

You told the boys to all put on their best outfits and walked over to the store when all your Hybrids finished in the bathroom, “hello, I am the owner of these Hybrids, we were looking to buy seven top-of-the-range laptops, seven phones, and a gaming console” You smiled but it was forced.

Jungkook and Yoongi’s ears were pressed back and their tail between their legs and you hummed, “which one said it?” Jungkook pointed at the young woman and man at the side of the store looking jealous.

The manager came out and you smiled, talking sweetly. He turned away and you winked at Jimin, “They said what to you, that you were strays and you couldn’t shoplift in the store, which ones said it, those two over there”

The two in the corner paled as you glared at the manager. “Your employees discriminated against my Hybrids.”

“We apologize they were not exactly dressed befitting to their stature?” the two tried to excuse themselves.

“Does that excuse you, I am sorry, but we might have to take our business elsewhere?” You growled quite annoyed, “These are highly sensitive young hybrids who have not had the best upbringing and you want to discriminate against them. Because they were dressed in different clothes than you deem allowed to be rich.”

“We sincerely apologize and we would like to offer you a deal,” The manager said, and you looked up at him, “We will give you our highest rate of insurance absolutely free and I will have my lovely employee Mister Choi hear take you to our private room’s and make you some drinks. Mister Lee and Miss Kim you can wait in my office.”

The young man took the drink orders and ran off, you took the moment to make sure your hybrids knew you weren’t upset with them.

“I am sorry I made a scene, I just don’t want anyone to ever look down on you, I want you to be respected as if you were human and I want you to know you are worth so much.” You consoled them patting their heads. “I would like to add the necessary programs for university students to have to be added to the laptops and I would like a selection of the best games for the console, I would like these phones here, I hear they have lots of colors, and I would like one of each color, so they don’t get mixed up.”

“For the seven laptops, phones and console and games I will throw in a free phone for you miss and insurance up to 13 years for every product and each laptop will be equipped with the required paid programs to help them through University.” He smiled as mister Choi came in with drinks he handed out Hot Chocolates and coffees.

“Are you Park Jimin, the billboard Calico?”

“Yes, that’s me, I can’t really autograph anything, a government rule” He laughed, “But I will let them know about the companies excellent service and sympathies in regards to the fair sale of products to Hybrids”

“Yes many companies, are quick to add secret fees on top but your documents seem to all be checking out., I could recommend the store as a source for the new expansion they will be needing a good computer system?”

The manager wiped his forehead sweating profusely, you had to hold back a scowl.

“This is tasty,” Taehyung hummed, his legs swinging back and forth on the seat, he was just enjoying his hot chocolate oblivious to the weight of your presence in the room. Catching his comment the manager looked up.

“Would you like to add the coffee machine, it really does make great hot chocolates?”

“If we add a coffee machine which would be greatly appreciated I would like to have some good quality headphones for free for the two your employees hurt with their words and a music subscription family pass for all the members on the phones..”

“That will be arranged,” He nodded, wiping his brow again, “Your total is forty thousand,” he said shocked but you expected it at almost four thousand each for the best laptop and almost two thousand for the best phones and a console and games and a coffee machine.

“And you are paying on credit?” The man asked, it was nice for you to leave with so much stuff and Yoongi was quiet on the drive home. Guiding him into his bedroom you sat him down to talk.

“Yoongi, I don’t want anyone to ever say anything about your worth alright, they have no idea how much you mean to me and how important you are” You stressed sitting beside him.

“Yeah I know this program means a lot to you and you don’t want it to go wrong so you got to keep us all happy.” He mumbled standing and walking to the door.

“Yoongi, no at the end of the day I want you guys to be happy in the moment if this program fails I want you all to have had a good time,” You tried to reason.

“Yeah before we get sent back to the slaughter.” He muttered, “Please get out,”

You took a deep breath and left the room unable to argue with Yoongi. Your eyes couldn’t help but sting as you stepped out into the hall.

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harryspet · 4 years ago

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secret service | bucky barnes

[Warnings] secret service!bucky x reader, reader is vp’s daughter, bodyguard!bucky, agegap, noncon/dubcon sex, brat tamer bucky, dominant x submissive, rough sex (wear protection kids!!)

A/N: this is for @nsfwsebbie ‘s dream fic challenge. Happy b-day sab! this is @mypoisonedvine ‘s dream fic and the prompt was “I would love anything dark bucky, especially if he starts out all nice and stuff but then he's all manipulative and it gets worse and worse until we're in heavy dub con/non con territory”. hope you enjoy bb!

In which a political trip to London allows you to be reunited with your favorite secret service member, Bucky Barnes.

taglist: @peterztinglez @lovelynerdytraveler @buckybarney @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish @marvelslut-musicalnerd @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @mandiiblanche @cherienymphe

word count: 3.9k

main masterlist

“You’ll need to be on your best behavior this weekend. We can’t have an incident like last year.”

You didn’t meet your mother’s eyes as you looked out the window of the private plane. Surprising to most, this time you spent watching her read her millions of paperwork was the most time you spent with her. Your mother cared for you but she was not warm. You didn’t believe a warm person could make it so high in the government. Being the daughter of the Vice President, you saw the kinds of dirty, manipulative politics that went on behind the scene.

You wanted little part of it but, here you were, about to land in London for an important public event.

“Y/N? Are you listening?” She continued to talk despite your lack of an answer, “That means you tell your agents when you’re going somewhere. I don’t care if you’re only walking down the hall to the ice machine, you tell them. You’ve known this since you were a little girl, I don’t know why you always give me a hard time.”

“I’m already here alone, Mom. Must you torture me further by suffocating me?”

“I know you must think it’s fun to rendezvous with some foreign prince but I must ask you to keep your legs closed for this trip and listen to your security.”

Your mouth parted. She thought of you as some whore but the truth was that you were far from the persona she forced upon you, “You don’t know me at all. And Alden isn’t a prince, his father is a prince. He’s just a duke,” You faked a smile and she scowled at you.

You weren’t expecting her next words, “I have a surprise for you when we land.”

You paused for a moment, trying to read her face. She was perfect at disguising her true emotions and, as her daughter, the thought that you didn’t really know your mother was saddening, “A surprise? I thought you were lecturing me.”

“You won’t listen unless I bribe you, Y/N,” Just as the words left her mouth, the pilot spoke on the intercom. The plane was beginning its descent and in a moment you’d be landing. One of your mother's assistants had to approve all your outfits for this trip. After some discourse, you decided on a light pink dress for your arrival look. It hugged your curves the way you liked but it reached down to your knees modestly as your mother preferred.

When you were finally stepping down the stairs to the plane, watching your mother wave to the press, and the diplomats ready to greet her, you realized what your surprise was. Two sleek, black cars waited at the end of the red carpet and the sight of the man standing in front of the second one made your heart race.

It took everything in you not to run to him. His dark hair was styled neatly, his arms folded over his nicely pressed black suit and a soft look of happiness was displayed on his strong face. He was just like you remembered him, the earpiece in his ear and the gold pin on his lapel reminded you of his position.

“This is my surprise?” Your mother turned to you with a grin.

“I know how much you like Agent Barnes, maybe you’ll actually listen to him. You’re going straight to your hotel room, I will see you later tonight.”

“Of course, my beloved mother. Like all teenagers, I love sitting in my hotel room and doing nothing while I’m on a trip.”

You watched your mother walk away from you, going to the first car while you approached the second car. Your speed picked up as you neared him. He opened the door for you, winking, “Girl Scout is in the Stage Coach. I repeat, Girl Scout is in the Stage Coach.”

Everyone the secret service protected had a codename. You’d been a proud girl scout for most of elementary school and then middle school when your mother went from Senator to Vice President. The name stuck and you thought it was annoying now that you’d grown out of that phase but you liked the name on his lips.

As you carefully slipped inside the car, you were beaming and, as Bucky slipped in beside you, you had to wait to pounce. You attacked him with a hug as soon as the doors closed and none of the crowd could see you through the tinted windows. You felt his hand against your back, hugging you tightly and it was then that you realized how touch starved you had been.

Everyone you came in contact had to go through your guards and that was often an intimidating process for most guys. Even though you had started college, you decided to avoid boys altogether because of this.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Your eyes were wide even as you pulled away from him, “How?”

Bucky gave you a soft smile, “Well I can’t tell you all the details since they’re top secret but, let’s say, my mission didn’t take as long as predicted.”

Your eyes narrowed at him in curiosity, “So you killed the bad guys and they let you come back to play babysitter?”

Bucky shook his head, giving you an amused look, “So crass. I see nothing has changed,” He leaned over and, for the briefest second, you thought his face was leaning into yours. Instead, he had reached over to grab your seatbelt as he safely secured it around your waist. Your cheeks heated up and you found yourself looking into the rearview mirror where you could see the two agents sitting in the front seat, “I apologize for being gone so long.”

“You didn’t miss much,” You said to console him, “Just senior year which was nothing special.”

Seeing him now made you think about meeting him those six years ago. He was so young then, just having served in the Army, but somehow aging had made him look even better. You had a feeling he was just as king and loyal as before. You were just a middle schooler at the time, hormonal, and constantly fighting with your parents about your lack of freedom. Maybe you hadn’t changed much either.

You watched him fasten his own seatbelt as the car began to take off, “Nothing special, hmm?” He cocked his eyebrow, “What about prom? Graduation?”

“Oh, it was effectively ruined by my arch-nemesis. He stole my spot as Salutatorian, my prom date wouldn’t stop talking to him about nanotech for the entire evening, and guess who got into Stanford for early admission just like yours truly?”

“Little Peter Parker?” Bucky chuckled.

“He’s not so little anymore,” You crossed your arms, pouting, “He’s only jealous that my mother was chosen as Vice President and his uncle was chosen for the lousy Secretary of Labor position.”

“Seems he must like you a lot to follow you to Stanford. To move all the way across the country,” You gave him an incredulous look, “C’mon, princess, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

“Of course I’ve noticed,” You rushed out your words, trying to ignore that feeling you got when he called you princess. If anyone else had said that, you’d probably feel disgusted but … you couldn’t help but think that term of endearment had changed its meaning. The truth was that you never thought Peter liked you and now you were worrying that your lack of social awareness had caused you to ignore the warning signs, “The last person I want to talk about is Peter Parker, Bucky.”

“Fine,” He folded his hands in front of him, sighing.

“Besides,” You side-eyed him mischievously, “I have someone far more important who feigns for my attention.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky leaned in.

“A duke,” You finished.

Bucky’s face seemed to fall, “I can’t imagine you as a duchess,” You couldn’t imagine yourself as one either but you liked the excitement that Alden brought you, “And your mother informed me of what happened last year. I’ll probably lose my job if something like that occurs again.”

“You’d tattle on me? I thought we were friends, Bucky.”

“That was when you were a harmless little girl. Now, you’re …” His eyes seemed to roam over your face then they fell to your neck but they moved back to your eyes before they could travel any lower, “You’re going to make this hard on me, aren’t you?”

You reached out to tap his cheek playfully and smirked, “I missed you.”

You weren’t sure exactly what holier-than-thou charity that these rich people had gathered in ball gowns to donate to. It was probably a minuscule fraction of their wealth and they most likely were only here to keep up appearances. Still, you enjoyed a chance to dress up.

You moved through the historical museum in a red ball gown, admiring all the expensive artifacts, as Bucky escorted you. You expected your mother to be with you during the event she’d forced you to attend but it seemed that she was once again too busy. You would’ve felt lonely if Bucky hadn’t been there. The other agents kept their distance, wearing tuxedos to blend into the rest of the crowd as they watched you from a distance.

Every now and then your conversation with Bucky would be interrupted by a message coming through his squiggly earpiece.

He looked quite handsome tonight and by the outline of his biceps against the fabric of his tuxedo jacket, you could tell he had bulked up over the last year.

“Madam Vice President had a run-in with the Prime Minister's wife. Turns out they’ve been dying to talk. She’ll meet you once the auction begins.”

“Oh, an auction, is that what this is? What endangered species are we saving tonight?”

“Funny,” Bucky added sarcastically, “... I don’t see your prince around. Perhaps he found another famous daughter to entertain for the night.”

You gave him a venomous look, “That cannot be possible when I look like this,” You emphasized your glamorous look that had taken nearly five hours to get on, “Now, would you please escort me to my table? I’m sure he’ll come and find me once you’re not standing beside me like a big tree.”

The truth was that you had no idea if Alden even remembered you from last year. He did make out with you but who knows how many famous daughters he had tried to entertain before. You hated how right Bucky seemed.

Bucky didn’t add anything to your harsh words as he escorted you into a large ballroom. It was so elegantly decorated that the room smelled like money. Blue stripes of light wavered through the room making it feel like you were in the middle of the ocean. You couldn’t help that the feeling of drowning that she experienced was a bad touch on the organizer's part.

Of course, your mother’s table was right near the front of the room. As Bucky pulled back the white chair, you took a seat, not meeting his eyes, “You’re dismissed, Mr. Barnes,” You spoke over your shoulder.

To your surprise, he leaned down to whisper into your ear, “You cause any problems tonight, princess, and you deal with me.”

Your mouth pinched into a thin line as you were left speechless. When you looked back, he was already walking away, taking his position by the far wall. You looked away quickly, mentally cursing. So much for having the upper-hand. You slouched in your seat, looking around the hall which was now flooding with people.

A few people you vaguely remembered having a conversation with approached you to talk. Hollywood celebrities, European politicians, and even famous designers hoping to get you to wear some of their designs. Lately, the paparazzi loved to follow you as you walked to class and gossip sites loved to talk about what you wore.

Everyone was so busy trying to get your attention that you hadn’t noticed someone slip in the seat beside you, “You look like you need something to drink,” You were a bit startled but you immediately recognized his voice. It seemed a year had made him more handsome as well. With one hand he grabbed yours and kissed it and with the other he handed you a glass of champagne.

“Your grace,” You greeted him, accepting the glass. You had almost forgotten that you could legally drink here. Despite that, you knew it would be improper to your mother. That’s why you took a sip, “Thank you so much-” You winced at the bitter taste but continued to sip.

The young duke was tall and red-headed, his face peppered with adorable freckles. His royal get-up was even more attractive.

You looked back at Bucky who was staring intently, “Is a night of fun in the cards for us?” You turned back to the Prince.

“I’m not supposed to rendezvous with royalty anymore. My Mom was not happy with me.”

He leaned back casually in his chair, his leisurely nature was surprising to you, “Is she usually happy with you?”

“Touche,” You took another painful sip, “Still, I’m not supposed to leave this table and I’m supposed to go straight back to my hotel room. No funny business.”

“No shenanigans whatsoever?” He frowned and you wondered why the British accent was so heavenly, “You must, at the very least, keep me entertained through whatever ceremony this is-”

“An auction, your grace.”

“What endangered species are we trying to save this time? It won’t be enough money anyways since they decorated this place with literal diamonds,” You smiled as you saw him reach into his jacket pocket and pulled out a flask, “Something stronger, perhaps?”

Bucky tapped his foot, starting to tune out the voice in his ear.

The room was now full of socialites, Madam Vice President had been escorted to her seat, and now the auction was beginning. The Vice President hadn’t so much as hugged her daughter so Bucky doubted she had noticed you were drinking yet. The young Duke would refill your glass with a clear liquid every time it ran low.

You were now giggling and laughing with him as a serious speech was given. You had to be at least six shots in. You played with his hand in your lap, leaning over to whisper in his ear, as you had the time of your life.

Bucky didn’t panic, only made a quick decision, “Girl Scout is in need of some rescuing. Clear the exit.”

Bucky scanned the room and his men began to follow his orders, as he approached your table. Before you could take another sip of your drink, his hand was on your shoulder. Your mother flashed him a concerned look but Bucky gave her a look to tell her not to worry. Luckily, she hadn’t noticed yet that you were about to go off the rails.

“Want some?” You smiled lazily as you lifted your glass. Bucky took it from you, setting back on the table.

“I think you need to use the bathroom, Miss Y/L/N,” You gave him a confused look. You wondered why he was being so stern with you.

“Nooo, I think you have the wrong woman, officer,” Bucky grabbed onto your hand, urging you up from your seat, “Let me deal with this rude man, your grace, I’ll be back soon.”

It seemed the Duke was in a similar, drunk state and simply replied with, “Return soon, my darling. I shall wait for your return-” You couldn’t respond because Bucky was trying to pull you away. Luckily, Bucky hadn’t managed to cause a scene but he knew you’d end up getting blackout drunk and embarrassing your mother if you continued.

Agents flocked around the two of you as you were guided out of the room. You almost tripped on the long skirt of your dress though Bucky easily caught you. You held onto him, giggling, “You couldn’t make it one night, could you?” You walked through a long hallway, staff carrying large plates of food passed and stared.

He brought you to the bathroom which was ginormous in itself, chandeliers hanging across the length of it, and completely empty, “I don’t think you’re supposed to be in here, officer.”

He leaned against the wall, “Walk around. Splash water on your face. Sober up.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning against the sink counter, as you stared at your makeup. As if you would ruin your makeup to “sober up”.

You pouted, staring at him through the mirror, “I didn’t mean to make you mad, Bucky. Only my mother.”

“Your mother is my boss. When you upset her, she’s upset with me,” Bucky was terse, and you wondered where that soft side was starting to disappear to, “You shouldn’t be drinking anyway.”

You huffed, hating that this conversation was starting to ruin your buzz, “I’m not a child. Don’t tell me you never had a sip of alcohol before you were twenty-one.”

“You think you’re more mature than you actually are,” You couldn’t help the scowl that formed on your face, “You’re not drinking for fun. You’re drinking to spite your mother.”

He moved closer, his hands behind his back as he sunk his words into you like a knife. You turned to him, taking a challenging step toward him. He towered over you but you clung to that anger and turned it to what you thought was confidence.

You grinned up at him, reaching out to play with the buttons of his jacket, “I thought you knew me better, Bucky,” You looked up at him with longing eyes, “I’m not a little girl anymore and you know that. You look at me differently. Your eyes linger on places you shouldn’t even be watching.”

Bucky grabbed your wrist tightly, suddenly, “Stop,” You knew you had touched a nerve.

“See, I know these things now,” You teased, “You like it when you can swoop me up and save me.”

“It’s my job, Y/N,” He spoke sternly. He was still holding you despite his words.

“What is it that you really want from me?” You pressed yourself closer to him, “A kiss maybe? Or something more forbidden?”

His eyes were dark with lust and you watched them linger on your lips at the mention of a kiss. What exactly did you want from him and what hole had you just dug for yourself? The alcohol was giving you courage but you weren’t actually sure how to finish what you started.

Bucky decided for you. He turned your body quickly, pressing your back into him, as a hand tightened around your throat. He faced you toward the mirror and the two of you were illuminated with bright lights. Your eyes widened as you watched him lean into your ear, “You’re such a brat ….”

Maybe part of him wanted you to mess up. Maybe he wanted a reason to get you alone with him and away from the royal douche that you were talking to. Maybe he let you get to this point ...

“Bucky, what are you-” His hand tightened around your throat and you felt your knees go weak.

He shushed you, “You asked what I really wanted. I want to punish you, princess,” Shivers went through your body as his warm breath tickled your ear, “I want to fuck you speechless so you can’t talk back with that smart little mouth of yours anymore.”

You started to struggle against you but you felt his fingers tighten around the sides of your throat. His hands were so big that they wrapped perfectly around your neck, “Hands on the counter,” He loosened his grip but only so he could push you forward. Like instinct, your hands held the sink counter. You turned your head to look back at him but he grabbed your hair, forcing your face forward, “Look forward, I want you to be able to see your pretty face while I fuck you.”

“Bucky, I’m sorry,” You forced out shakily as you felt the back of your dress being slowly unzipped. Through the mirror, you watched as he carefully took in the view of your body, “Please don’t hurt me-”

“Have I ever hurt you before?” He interrupted you, his hands traveling over your bareback, “I’ll always protect you, princess. I just think, if I’m going to keep doing my job, we need some new rules.”

The straps of your dress fell down your shoulder, exposing your breast. Again, as you tried to look away, he forced your face towards the mirror again, “Don’t be shy now,” He pulled down your panties, slapping your now exposed bottom, sending a stinging pain through your skin.

There was aching between your legs and part of you feared what he’d discover when he took a closer look. As you watched him undo his belt, a dark look in his eyes, you knew that he was going to push you all the way. He slapped your ass again, watching your body convulse as you tried to run from the pain. Surprisingly, his intimate touch only made that aching grow.

Upon closer examination, Bucky did discover the wetness between your legs. You bit down on your lip as his fingers roamed over your sweet spot, rubbing your sensitive bulb. You bent over further, allowing him more access which caused Bucky to smirk.

Something switched in him once again because suddenly he was pouncing again, positioning himself behind you as he pushed you further against the counter. He wanted you to see his face as he entered you, roughly grabbing your hair as he teased you entrance with his hard, throbbing cock.

“Please…”

“Please what? You want me to fuck you?” You closed your eyes, unwilling to answer, only to receive another smack to your bottom, “Don’t worry about what you want, princess, I’m making the decisions here.”

He stretched you as he slowly entered you and you tightly wrapped around his member, “Fuck, Y/N,” He cursed, moving deeper inside of you. At that moment, he was all that could feel, and all that consumed your thoughts. He moved torturously slow in and out of you and you gasped every time he sunk his entire length within you.

“Bucky!” You cried out, your mouth wide as you gripped the counter for dear life, “Ah, t-t-too big … p-please. Ah!”

He moved faster now, reaching around to grab ahold of your breast as he thrust inside of you. You called his name again and that only made him speed up his pace. He was torturing with his ferocity and now you wished he’d go back to taking it easy on you. You watched in the mirror as he split you apart, taking whatever innocence you had left within you, “Good girl, princess,” He praised you, “Taking my cock. So. Good.”

He was moving too fast now. With each thrust, he was hitting the right spot and sending pleasure in cascading waves through your body. You couldn’t take it, already tightening around his cock as you orgasm. You tried to run from it, trying to pull your body forward but he grabbed your arms, forcing you back onto his cock. Tears stung your eyes as he went even deeper.

When he finally came, he grunted hard, his moaning deep and heavy. You were defeated, conquered, though you didn’t understand why being violated could feel so good.

You leaned against the counter as you tried to catch your breath. Bucky ran his fingers through his hair, breathing heavily, before pulling up his pants and tightening his belt again. He adjusted his earpiece before looking at you over again. Shaking, you were pulling up the straps of your dress.

“Sober now?” He asked, a wicked smile on his face. “Let’s try yes sir and no sir from now on. Understand?”

“Yes… Sir.”

i love the whole secret service concept so i hope you enjoyed it too!

#dark fic #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x y/n #bucky barnes smut #dark!bucky smut #marvel #marvel smut #writing challenge #bucky barnes angst #secret service!bucky #president au #politician au

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phoebe-delia · 3 years ago

Note

Phoebes did you notice that most of the song prompts are odd numbers? I just think it's kind of neat! But for some lovely chaos in the stats, let us please have song no. 10? Also your doing this is a wonderful gift to the world and I adore you so so so so much

@rockingrobin69, Robin, my darling, hello. First of all, I'd noticed that the first ten or so were mostly odd numbers, but after you pointed it out, I realized how many odd-numbered ones I'd done! How funny. Also, before I get to tell you what song you've selected, I want to say that you and your writing are the true gifts and the feeling is very much mutual, my love. I cannot thank you enough for your constant love, support, and friendship. I absolutely adore you. <3

Another funny thing, Robin, is that you've managed to now select two out of my top three all-time favorite songs by Taylor Swift. (song prompt 3 was, ironically, my 3rd favorite TS song: "it's time to go.") But here, you've requested song 10, which is my number 1 favorite Taylor song of all time: "All Too Well."

The trouble is, I've already written one fic to this before. But no matter! I will persevere. This is technically a sequel to the original fic, but you don't have to have read it to understand this one! It is highly likely when the 10-minute version of All Too Well comes out that I will write a fic to that, but since it's not out yet, here's this. CW: post-breakup, potion/substance addiction, bad coping mechanisms, potions overdose; but there's a hopeful/happy ending!

Paralytici Memorias means "paralyzed memories" in Latin, if Google Translate is to be believed. And finally, an enormous, gigantic thank you to my big sis @avenueofesc for making this coherent and much better.

It wasn't a substitute by any means. It would never replace what it was made to mimic. In some ways, it was hopelessly inadequate.

But it was all he had: just the potion and his memories. If Draco's mind insisted on torturing him by reliving the best moments of his life in sepia-toned images, at least this way he could delay the crushing reality a little while longer.

Paralytici Memorias was his greatest triumph and biggest mistake. At first, he blamed it on completing his due diligence; every good potioneer should know and test the effects of their potion.

But then one test turned into two. Before he knew it, Draco spent the better part of his days coming in and out of deep periods of sleep, reaching for the vial every time his eyes opened to the sight of his empty flat, his engagement band on the coffee table next to him.

He wondered what Astoria would say if she could see him now. If their current level of communication as soon-to-be-weds was any indication, their marriage contract was more of a business venture than a romantic one.

After all, as long as he had a pulse, sperm for insemination, and a sound enough mind to sign over half his vaults, he'd have done his duty as her future husband as far as she was concerned.

"You'll forget about me, I promise."

His own words—written on the parchment he'd sent off with his owl before he could stop himself—were burned into his memory. He still remembered the searing pain in his chest as he promised the love of his life that what they'd had could be forgotten. In breaking Harry's heart, and in shattering his own, his only consolation was knowing that Harry would be happy eventually; that Harry would move on and find someone with the freedom to love him the way he deserved, someone who could offer the intangible riches in which Draco had always been impoverished.

As he reached for the vial that afternoon, it was to remind himself of the priceless love he sold for the price of his heart.

The potion’s effect was hazier than a Pensieve, but this way he could see the memories from his own point of view; could relive it in his own skin. Still, his mind couldn't do justice to Harry's eyes, the bright sound of his laughter, the warmth of his skin.

They were in Harry's car, the name of which Draco had never bothered to learn, too terrified and fascinated by the contraption. He yelped when Harry took a hand off the wheel to grab Draco's shaking one in a reassuring squeeze.

"Hands on the wheel, Potter!"

"I've got it under control, love. You watched me put the protection spells on the car myself, and it would be perfectly safe even without them. I promise I won't let anything happen to you," Harry said without an ounce of condescension.

Draco exhaled shakily, "If you say so."

"I do. Now, why don't you tell me a little more about where we're going?"

"Have you forgotten already? Honestly, Potter, your memory is abysmal."

"I haven't forgotten. I just like hearing you talk."

Draco valiantly didn't blush. And while he described the beauty of the Cotswolds, he found himself mesmerized at the red and orange leaved trees that lined the road as they drove out of the city and into the peaceful countryside, with its steady beeping noise.

Wait…that wasn't right. Why was it beeping?

"Potter, there's something wrong with the car."

"Draco?"

He squeezed his eyes shut tight before he opened them, blinking as the unfamiliar room came into focus. He could feel his pulse pounding in his head as his mind raced in a heady mix of confusion and anxiety. What happened? Why wasn't he in his flat?

"You're in St. Mungos."

Draco's head nearly snapped as he turned to look at a pale-faced Harry sitting in the chair next to his bed. Near Harry stood an unfamiliar woman scribbling on a clipboard. She reached over onto a side table and handed Draco a paper cup. The water was cool, a relief for his parched, sandpaper throat.

"Mr. Malfoy, how do you feel?" She asked after he handed the cup back to her.

Draco closed his eyes to stop the room from spinning. "My head is killing me and I'm dizzy, but I'm okay. What happened?"

"Your fiancée found you unconscious in your flat. We completed a blood test and couldn't match the substance to anything we know—"

"I invented it," Draco grumbled. "Where is Astoria? Harry, what are you doing here?"

The healer pressed her lips together. "I'll leave you to gather yourself for a few minutes, but I'll be back soon to ask you more about that potion, and next steps from there, alright?"

Draco nodded. "Thank you, Healer...?"

She smiled. "I'm Healer Rostova. Press that pager if you need something, but otherwise, I'll be back in a little while." With that, she left the room, the door clicking softly behind her.

Draco turned to Harry, who regarded him with wide, worried eyes. "What happened? Why are you here?"

Harry bit his lip. "Astoria found you unconscious on your couch. She brought you here and then she, well...She called me."

"She—what?"

"She called me. She said you were in the hospital, and I didn't really think much beyond Apparating here."

"Why did she call you?"

"She said you were...talking in your sleep."

Draco blushed. "Oh."

"Yeah," Harry let out a humorless, breathy chuckle. "She figured it out, I think. She said to tell you that she's having her parents terminate the contract."

Draco closed his eyes, letting his head thud against the headboard and then instantly regretting it, gritting his teeth against the sharp pain. "Great. I bet Mother's furious."

"She'll come around."

"You don't know that. You don't know her."

"No, I don't, but hopefully she'll want you to do what makes you happy."

Draco clenched his jaw and looked away. "Happiness is easier to manage when it's artificial. I ran away from the only thing that ever brought me close to real happiness. I can't handle it."

"Then let's manage it together."

Draco closed his eyes, kept his head turned.

"Draco, look at me."

Slowly, Draco forced himself to look at Harry, opening his eyes to let the other man see the tears beginning to well.

Harry's expression was as pained, yet kind. "Do you have any idea how agonizing it has been to miss you?"

Draco's chest seized, sharp with regret. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I thought it was what's best for both of us, I—"

"Shhh," Harry leaned forward, rubbing a soothing hand over Draco's. "We'll make it okay. We'll figure this out together, alright?"

Draco kept his eyes open, let himself enjoy happiness in full color. "Okay. Together."

Send me an ask about Harry Potter, broadway/musicals, The West Wing, and/or Taylor Swift! Or just about life in general :).

Also, I have a playlist of my 99 most listened-to songs of the year so far. Pick a number 1--99 and send me an ask and I'll write you a fic based on it!

#drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #draco and harry #harry and draco #draco x harry #harry x draco #cw: addiction #cw: post breakup #angst with a happy ending #hpdm #drarry squad

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fortisfiliae · 4 years ago

Text

Promised Part 12 - Tom Riddle x reader

Summary: In this story, Tom didn’t grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader’s sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Disclaimer: Please be aware that I don’t condone any of this in real life. (GIF is not mine)

Warnings: Arranged marriage; it gets a bit sexy, but nothing explicit

Word count: 2.7k

Part 12 - Pillow Talk and Butterbeer

After you had gotten the Foxgloves in Diagon Alley, the only thing you could do for the antidote was to wait. Wait for Nagini to shed and wait for the end of March to arrive, so you could go to the Gaunt manor and look for a flask of Banshee tears. Meanwhile, the cauldron simmered safely in the Come and Go Room. You had to stir it frequently and skim off the foam that built up, so it required a good portion of your time, which was quite worrisome. How would you be able to keep that up when school would start again and you were occupied attending classes? Of course, Tom and you could alternate in doing those tasks, but you didn’t want to bother him with all that constantly. He had to attend to his duties as head boy on top of everything, after all. Well, there had to be a way. It would be manageable somehow.

Even though Hogwarts was almost empty and there weren’t many people around, you hadn’t felt lonely. Not even a bit. Tom and you had gotten closer over the week. Even closer than before and he still showed no signs of annoyance towards you. Which surprised you. You would have thought that he liked to keep to himself a lot, and wouldn’t want to spend a lot of time with someone else, regardless of who it was. But that suspicion turned out to be untrue. Tom had followed you to tend to the potion every single time you had gone there, even if you hadn’t asked him to. He stuck to you like a magnet, which was strange at first, but once you had figured out that he just seemed to thoroughly enjoy your company, you let him.

When the two of you weren’t in the Come and Go Room, or studied for the upcoming semester, you spent your time in bed a lot. The meaning of ‘enjoying the holidays’ suddenly had a different ring to it. You still had not gotten used to his touch, his scent, his faint whisper in your ear. But if you were honest, you didn’t want to ever get used to it. It was too exciting to get that rush, the way your heart started racing, every time his fingers brushed across your skin. Every time your name fell from his lips and when his eyes lingered on your figure when you lay beneath him. Those smiles, rare and subtle, he graced you with between the sheets. No, you would never get used to that.

And Tom had started to talk more. Granted, still not as much as any other person you knew, but it was certainly a step in the right direction. One rainy day, he even opened up and talked about his family. You held hands beneath the blanket, one of your legs was sprawled over him and you had just put your head into a comfortable position between Tom’s shoulder and the cushion, when he just began, out of nowhere.

“Do you remember when you asked me about my parents?” he said. “In your room, at Christmas.”

Your head propped up again so that you could look at him. “I do. Why?”

“Well,” he paused and looked back into your eyes, his voice low and plain. “Do you want to know what happened?”

“Of course. Tell me.”

He laid his head onto the pillow and looked up towards the ceiling while he bit the inside of his cheek.

“My Mother,” he began. “She fell in love with him, Tom Riddle, when she was seventeen. He was a muggle. Filthy and worthless, even though his family was rich. Merlin knows what she saw in him.”

The thought that him being a muggle didn’t define his Father’s worth came to your mind, but it wasn’t your time to speak now.

“He didn’t love her back,” Tom went on. “At least not as much as she wanted him to, apparently. Morfin, her brother, had just finished his schooling for Potion’s mastery, so she snuck into his chambers one night and stole one of his love potions.”

This story wasn’t going to end well. Most love potions, the ones that weren’t sold in joke shops, which were diluted and only meant to last for a few minutes, were illegal. You had learned about the most dangerous ones during Slughorn’s class in sixth year, so that you were able to detect them. One of them, the most powerful one, had attracted everyone’s attention back then. The potion alone was infatuating, even if one had not consumed it yet. Its scent had drawn in every person in the classroom, as it smelled different to everyone, based on what the person liked. You still remembered that striking feeling of needing to take the potion yourself. Obsession was the best way to describe it. All rationality had left you once Slughorn had lifted the cauldron’s cover. No one seemed in their right mind anymore. The mere thought of being at someone’s mercy, without even knowing it, was frightening.

“Amortentia?” you asked.

Tom nodded and you could feel one of his legs bouncing up and down. His voice still was indifferent, as if he was telling you just another irrelevant story.

“She drugged him with it and didn’t tell her family. They wouldn’t have tolerated a muggle as her husband of course. But they secretly got married and when she was pregnant, she broke the charm, thinking he would love her anyway.”

“And?” you asked, hoping that the answer would be different from what you anticipated.

“He didn’t love her obviously. And he ran from her. Left her. Can’t even blame him.”

“He left her when she was pregnant?”

Tom nodded and your heart sank for him. Even though his father’s actions were understandable to an extent, you couldn’t imagine what it must feel like being so unwanted by one of your parents that they would have left before you were even born.

“What happened to her then?” you asked.

“She died while giving birth to me. At least that’s what Marvolo told me.”

“You don’t think she’s dead?”

“Oh, yes I do. I don’t think she died from giving birth.”

“Do you think he… That Marvolo… Killed her?”

Tom shrugged, still looking up at the ceiling. “Possibly. I could see why he would have done it.”

Everyone who knew Marvolo could probably see him do that. That man was evil, to say the least, and seemed to enjoy it when others suffered. But killing his own daughter was something you hadn’t thought anyone, not even the worst person on earth, was able to do without hesitation.

Silence had fallen over the room. You could hear Tom breathing, still collected and slow, contrary to yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered for lack of a better word and held his hand tighter.

“It’s alright,” he answered, his voice sounding like he was the one consoling you when it should have been the other way around. “I have no memory of them. It’s not like I miss her.”

Could you miss someone you never really met? Probably not, you thought. But it was definitely possible to know you missed out.

“And your father?” you asked. “Do you know where he is now?”

Tom let out a sharp breath through his nose as if he was suppressing a laugh. “I don’t think he’s alive either. They never told me, but I assume Marvolo took care of him as well.”

You sighed at his response, turned to lie on your side and rested your head on Tom’s shoulder, your hand leaving his, to hold on to his upper arm.

There had been so much harm, so much betrayal in his life, even before he could have done something to prevent it. No wonder he behaved the way he did. There had never been hope. He never stood a chance.

“I don’t even know what to say,” you mumbled. “Do you wish it could have been different? If you had gotten to know them.”

“You and your wishful thinking,” he said and you could hear the smile in his tone. “I never thought about it. It wouldn’t change reality. It would just make me mad.”

You nodded as a silent way of approval, your fingertips tracing patterns on the curve of his shoulder.

“I do wonder, however,” Tom said and lifted your chin with his hand, so he could look into your eyes. “What my father felt when she put him under her spell with Amortentia.”

His gaze darted back and forth between your eyes and your lips, his fingers still holding up your chin when you blinked.

“The closest thing to love, I assume,” you answered, a breath stuck in your throat. “The replica of it at least, as hollow as it may be.”

Tom still looked at you with a glare as sharp as a butcher knife. He sucked in a breath, pondering, and parted his lips, about to say something. Before he could though, he leaned closer, pinned you down to the mattress and kissed you, his hand wandering from your chin to your neck.

An owl from Camille arrived on one of the last days of the break. Her letter made you smile as you walked across Tom’s room and read it.

“Camille wants to meet up on Sunday, when she’ll be back,” you told Tom, still skimming across her lines. “They are official now, Ben and her.”

“Alright then,” Tom said absentmindedly, his nose in one of the books from the library.

“She asked for you to come too.”

His head rose in confusion. “Me? Why?”

“I think she wants us to go on a double date,” you chuckled. “To the Three Broomsticks. Sunday at five.”

No matter how sure you were of how much Tom enjoyed your presence, he absolutely wasn’t entertaining the idea of spending time with Ben Hilt. And about that, he was very clear. He had asked you a couple of times if you were sure that Camille meant for him to come and had tried many ways of escaping that date, but alas, you dragged him there.

“Four Butterbeers,” Ben ordered after you had sat down at a table together.

Ben sat opposite to Tom, who was more than obviously annoyed by the fact he even had to be there. You patted his thigh, ordering him to behave, to which Tom eyed you seriously. Camille and you both bit back the smirks on your faces, while Ben tried his best to be friendly.

“So,” he said, looking at Tom and you. “How were the holidays?”

“Mind your own business,” Tom murmured, which luckily no one but you had heard.

“Good,” you spoke over him and pushed your elbow against Tom’s side. “Quiet. Not many people around.”

“Oh, you stayed in school, didn’t you?” Ben asked. “You both?”

Tom didn’t answer and looked back at Ben without a hint of emotion on his face. You nodded and smiled.

“How about you?“ you asked. „What have you done? Have you met up?”

“Oh, yes we did,” Camille said. “Ben introduced himself to my parents and then took me to the cinema.”

“Cinema?” Tom and you asked simultaneously.

You had heard of cinemas before of course. But you had never been. Movies were a muggle invention, and even though it sounded tempting, you had never had a chance to go.

“Yes,” Camille confirmed. “We watched ‘Dead of Night’. That’s what it’s called, right?”

Ben nodded as he swung his arm around Camille’s shoulder. “Horror movies. My favourite.”

“Why would you do that?” Tom asked and took his cup from the server, who had come up with your order. “Go to the cinema. That’s such a muggle thing to do.”

“Oh, you’ve never been, huh?” Ben asked. “None of you have, have you?”

“You should have seen his face when I told him,” Camille laughed. She had, similar to you, grown up in a pureblood family as well.

“And you should’ve seen mine when I went to her house,” Ben added. “I’m still not used to wizard’s homes, you know. They’re so different. I like them.”

Tom stiffened next to you.

“You’re muggleborn?” he asked, his mouth agape.

“Indeed mate. Didn’t you know?”

“You’re a mu-… muggleborn,” Tom stammered and looked over to Camille. “But you, you’re a pureblood, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Camille said, a baffled smile on her face.

Tom still had a hard time believing what he had just heard. “And you… You two. Even though…”

“Tom,” you whispered, trying to escape both Camille and Ben’s amused looks, and patted him on the thigh again.

“Excuse me,” he cleared his throat and motioned with his hand. “I just. I didn’t know.”

“Well now you do,” Ben shrugged before taking a big sip of his butterbeer. “Best of both worlds, am I right?”

“Right,” you said when Tom didn’t answer.

Changing the subject seemed necessary, but you couldn’t think of anything worth talking about. The only thing you had been doing was tending to the potion, and that was something you would rather keep a secret.

“The worst thing is that none of you folks have phones at home,” Ben went on.

“Phones?” Tom asked.

“Telephones. You can call other people and talk to them.”

“I wish I had one,” said Camille. “I told my father about it and he thinks it’s a great idea. Maybe we’ll get one of those ‘phones’.”

That was interesting. To talk to someone directly, even if they weren’t there? No apparating, no Floo Network. Muggles might have been weak, but they sure knew how to handle their handicaps.

“Why would you need to do that?” Tom asked. “Talk to someone on the phone.”

“Well, it spares a lot of time. No need for owls or letters. You just pick it up from the hook and speak.”

Tom seemed to think about it for a moment. Then he shook his head. “But owls do the job just fine.”

“Not as quickly,” Ben grinned.

“Well, then I’ll send an urgent owl if I need my message to arrive sooner.”

Ben stifled a laugh and took another drink. “I mean, of course, mate.”

“I think it’s interesting,” you said. “And you only hear the voice of the other person? You can’t see them, right?”

“Exactly.”

“Fascinating,” you mumbled. “What other things do you have that we don’t?”

Ben looked into his cup for a moment and hummed. “Well, muggles invented the train, which we all use to go to school.”

“Oh,” Camille gasped. “Wait until he tells Tom about cars.”

Tom clicked his tongue. “Of course I know about cars.”

“Have you driven one?” Ben asked.

“No. Obviously not.”

“You should one day,” Ben gushed. “My father got a 1943 Bentley recently. Technically I’m not allowed to drive it, because I don’t have a license. But I’ve seen Father drive a lot. So I borrowed the car one night and it was life-changing.”

Tom took a drink and raised one brow. “I’d rather just apparate.”

“Yes, that’s great too. But it doesn’t have the same feeling. It’s really liberating. And much more comfortable than brooms. I could take you all on a ride someday in summer. The car fits four people.”

“Why?” Tom asked before you could agree.

Ben raised his eyebrows again, a smile still plastered on his face. “For fun?”

“For fun,” Tom repeated and looked at you as if to ask you what Ben was trying to tell him.

“You should do more things just for fun, mate,” Ben chuckled. “Might help against that constant frown.”

Camille and you laughed quietly, both turning your faces away from the boys and you bit your tongue. Tom straightened his posture, his eyes darting across the table, apparently thinking hard.

“We’ll see about that,” he said and raised his glass. “Mate.”

Please consider leaving a comment and tell me what you think so far :) They motivate me so much to keep writing! Let me know if you want to be tagged, or untagged. Thank you for reading!

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limetameta · 4 years ago

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for the prompts u asked.... maybe tom being jealous? Or tombrax + showing off, whatever you want

Tom Riddle hid his disdain as best as he could. What with growing up in the orphanage where fickle matrons took offence to every little sneer, he had thought himself a master of disguise and impassivness. Alas, Abraxas Malfoy seemed to bring out the worst in him.

Eileen Prince was just talking to him for fuck's sake. But the way she was talking to him! Oh ! Now that was something he couldn't easily forgive or forget. Tom was one of those remember and resent type of people. It kept things interesting in his life. Against everyone's most ardent tries, Tom had not grown up a good christian.

She had been partnered with Abraxas in potions while Tom dealt with the scatter brained Septimus Weasley. While the Gryffindor was brilliant, he wasn't nearly as funny or fun to work with as Abraxas was.

Septimus glanced over to Eileen and Abraxas' table and failed to hide his curious smile. "Ohoho." He only said. Tom asked him if he wished to elaborate on these inarticulate noises. Septimus only replied with an even more confusing eyebrow wriggle. THE FIEND! Tom Riddle refused to be mocked. He diced the ingredients and cursed Slughorn for his inter-house friendship bullshit. Dumbledore was happy with how everyone sat. So was every other professor. But no! Slughorn had to be the better person! He wanted to help everyone network and branch out of their comfort zone so he could collect more students.

Abraxas was the odd man out and he remained sitting with a Slytherin. He laughed that high laughter of his, not unlike a peacock. And Tom almost cut his finger from the rage that overcame him that Abraxas was laughing at Eileen's commentary on anything.

Septimus whistled.

Tom glared.

Septimus' grin widened. That bastard.

"You really want to try me?" Tom hissed under his breath so only Septimus heard him, defaulting to his Woolwich accent. "I'm a prefect, Weasley. I can make your life hell."

"What's hell?"

Tom forgot that most of these purebloods had fuck all clue about christianity. He sputtered, momentarily forgetting to be intimidating. "It's," then he thought better of it and gave up because if he started explaining hell then he would have to explain what heaven was and then he would have to explain Jesus AND THEN he would have to explain the holy trinity and from his previous experience it just was not worth it.

Slughorn instructed them that after they made their amortentia everyone would go around describing their smell.

Tom thought that he didn't want others to know what his smelled like.

But damn it. He couldn't sabotage his potion now.

Ugh.

Eileen giggled.

Tom's foot began to tap. He hated this lack of control.

Walburga Black was the first one to demand that Slughorn inspect her potion. "It is perfect," she said. Slughorn just smiled and told her not to get ahead of herself. "AND IF IT ISN'T PERFECT, THAT'S BECAUSE OF PREWETT'S LACK OF SKILL!"

Prewett, wisely, said nothing. Everyone and their cousin knew that nobody talked back to Walburga Black.

"What does it smell like for you?"

"It smells like victory."

That was vague to anyone that did not know that Orion Black had lucky socks he called victory. Tom did not say anything about them being cousins but he thought that it was... a little...backward.

Tom catalogued most people's smells just out of curiosity.

Avery's amortentia smelled like weed. Not weeds. No. Literally marijuana. Tom was amazed that that could be a bloody smell.

Lestrange's smelled like quidditch locker room. Tom was somehow disgusted in a way he did not know he could be.

He tried to smell his amortentia and couldn't find a distinct smell. This worried him. Had he bungled the potion???

Septimus Weasley looked too giddy to not have a smell.

Walburga yelled at Orion when he said that his amortentia smelled like lavender. "AND NOT ROSES?!" Everyone knew that Walburga's perfume was made of roses. "NOT ROSES!!!"

Orion looked away and tried to hide behind Shafiq.

Walburga almost crossed over to him to fight. People held her back.

Slughorn tried to calm her down. "Miss Black, I will be taking points from Slytherin if you do not calm down."

That did it.

Eileen looked at Abraxas and said: "I smell birds." Abraxas owned like 5 peacocks. After being rich that was his key personality trait. Tom wanted to remove Eileen off of the face of the Earth.

Avery noticed Tom's balled fists and took initiative. He gasped. Everyone looked at him.

Zephyr Avery, proud founder od Hogwarts' orinthology club, had this to say: "Eileen, I'm beyond flattered. But my heart does not belong to anyone except the call of birds!"

Abraxas began laughing again. Tom smiled at Abraxas.

It was Abraxas' turn to say what his smelled like. He bent down. Smelled the potion. And recoiled.

Tom did not think this was a good sign.

"It smells like cheap cologne! Ugh!"

It was so silent that if someone dropped a pin it would echo.

Walburga screeched. "HA! RIDDLE, I THINK ALL OF SLYTHERIN WILL CHIP IN TO BUY YOU PROPER COLOGNE!"

Laughter filled the classroom. Slughorn patted him on the back in consolation.

Tom Riddle wanted to die. But he was happy. But he wanted to die. But not literally die because he was terrified of dying. But he did not want to exist anymore.

"What does your amortentia smell like, Mr. Weasley?"

"Smells like carrots and apples."

"Okay." Slughorn and everyone had no idea who this might be but Septimus was smug.

"Mr. Riddle?"

His amortentia smelled like nothing. But he couldn't say that. So, he looked at Walburga Black and whispered, shyly (HA! AS IF HE WERE EVER SHY!): "The most beautiful rose."

Walburga Black took out her wand: "MUDBLOOD!!!! YOU UPSTART! YOU FIEND!!!"

She was not properly held back this time. Tom Riddle had to run out of the classroom, trying his best to stifle his laughter as he dodged her curses.

Slytherin wound up losing 15 points for that. Tom made them 20 so they were still winning.

#abraxas malfoy #lord voldemort #tom riddle #abraxas malfoy/tom riddle #abraxas malfoy x tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #amortentia #horace slughorn #avery sr #fic

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theshopkeepofremnant · 4 years ago

Link

Genre: Sci-fi/cyberpunk AU

Length: 33k

Rating: Teen

Summary:

What would you do for family?

For Yang, the answer is everything. Anything. Pulling jobs on the dangerous streets of the sprawling metropolis of Vale with her do-gooder sister at her side, she has plenty of opportunities to prove it. But she's ready to get out. To take Ruby and leave the city behind. When the opportunity of a lifetime comes their way, Yang is all in, despite Ruby's protests. One last job, then they'll be set for life. Free. Simple.

But when you let yourself get tangled in the glossy and duplicitous games of the rich and powerful, things are rarely simple, and they're never free.

(Chapter 1 below the cut)

“I still don’t understand why we’re going to work with some corporate princess,” Ruby muttered.

Yang scanned the busy street through her aviators. Not that she needed them. Sunlight hadn’t found its way down through the towering buildings crowded around the dirty streets of Vale in decades. Maybe in the city center, depending on the day. But not in their neighborhood. At most, the dark glass protected her from the occasional glint off an oil slick left behind by one of the rust buckets parked on the curb. She liked how they looked, though. Cars hummed by, still no sign of their client. “It’s not complicated, Ruby. We need a real job.” When her little sister looked ready to protest, she clarified, “That pays real money.”

Ruby pouted. She may have long since stopped being a child, but even at twenty-two (nearly middle-aged for someone raised by the streets of Vale), Yang still thought of her as her kid sister. Her naive, do-gooder attitude didn’t help any.

“What about that shopkeeper last week? That was a real job,” she argued.

“He paid us in canned beans and ammunition.”

“Both of which we sorely needed,” Ruby remarked, her grin only slightly embarrassed. “Besides, he really needed someone to help him. We did a good thing.”

“Good things don’t pay bills,” Yang said. She tried not to think about the angry notices she’d received from their apartment complex. She failed. One more, and she and Ruby would be out on the street. Her worry was interrupted by a sleek limo gliding up to the curb. Car like that couldn’t idle long on a street like this. Like as not to find itself on blocks and missing everything but the frame. Maybe even that.

“There’s our ride,” she said, taking off her shades and slipping them into a pocket in her bomber jacket. The move was practiced but looked nonchalant. Cool. Shiny. She hoped. “Try to act professional.”

Ruby grumbled but kept it to herself as a stout man sprang from the driver’s seat and raced around to open the rear passenger door. “Ladies,” he said, his voice oddly respectful. “If you would?”

Yang elbowed Ruby as she snickered at the formal address, thanking the man and sliding into the dimly light interior. She couldn’t help but notice the feel of the glossy seat, and she ran her golden hand across the material as she settled in. Text popped up on her HUD: genuine leather. She fought the urge to whistle as Ruby plopped down beside her and the door shut with a solid thunk. Her eyes quickly adjusted, revealing the prim and perfectly still woman seated across from her.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” the woman said, her diction as crisp as the lines on her expensive-looking blazer. “I’m…”

“Weiss Schnee,” Yang filled in. “We’re not amateurs.” She looked the woman up and down again. From the famously white hair to the feint scar slashed across one of her two icy-blue eyes, she was unmistakable. Even if their Uncle Qrow hadn’t tipped them off on their supposed mystery client (“Hey, I’m the best fixer in Vale, you think I’d send you in without doing some digging?”), a blind person could identify those ringing tones from Weiss’s singing days.

“Fine, you know who I am,” Weiss huffed, leaning her head back and looking down her perfect nose at them. “Sadly, I can’t say the same. I was only told that you’re the best at what you do. I hope I was not led astray.”

“I’m Yang. This is Ruby. If a job needs doing, we do it. Period.” She leaned back, doing her best to match the haughty pose of their client. It almost worked.

“So it’s just the two of you?” Weiss asked, looking doubtful. And more than a little disappointed.

“Not exactly,” came a robotic voice.

Weiss snapped her head around, her eyes landing on a small pin on Ruby’s collar. Yang realized she must have high-grade optical implants to zero in on the speaker so quickly. Only the best for the Schnee heiress. “I don’t appreciate eavesdroppers.”

Ruby held up her hands, trying to placate the frosty woman. “That’s our netrunner.”

Weiss nodded, almost as if she’d expected the response. Hoped for it. Yang didn’t like the strange light in her eyes as she spoke. “The Winter Maiden, if I’m not mistaken? Best crafter and cracker of ICE on the net. Or so the stories go.”

“Yeah…wait. How did you know her and not us?” Ruby asked.

Weiss’s lips pursed smugly. “I am also not an… amateur.” She let her words hang before sighing and dropping the act. “We tried to recruit her at SchneeCorp a handful of years ago, shortly before she seemingly vanished. It was believed she’d either burned out or finally hit it big enough to retire. I had my suspicions those rumors were false. You’re a hard woman to find, Ms. Polendina.”

“I…” Penny wasn’t often caught off guard, but hearing her real name spoken by a suit must have been a shock. She quickly recovered. “You may address me as Winter Maiden. We are not friends.”

“Concerned that someone else might be listening?” Weiss probed.

“Of course not. The first thing I did when my friends entered your vehicle was sweep it and then isolate it. No listening devices were present, and you will notice that none of your personal devices have signal at the moment.”

Weiss simply smiled. “I expect no less from the best. Though I must say, I thought someone of your singular talents would be running with a more…impressive crew.”

Yang bristled but tried to swallow her pride. She couldn’t make an enemy of this woman. Not yet. “Much as I’m honored to ride around in luxury and be insulted by the daughter of the richest man on the planet, is there a point to all of this?” Maybe she hadn’t swallowed hard enough.

Weiss’s lip curled slightly, an instinctive show of rage, but she tried to hide it. Yang made a note of her reaction as the woman fussed with her skirt and settled herself. “I need you for a job.”

“So I gathered,” Yang replied, almost biting her tongue to tamp down her sarcasm. “What kind of job?”

“The impossible kind. The kind that wouldn’t even have a prayer without someone of Ms. Po…of the Winter Maiden’s caliber.”

Yang slumped back. “So you don’t need us, just her.”

Weiss examined the bed of her fingernails. “Not exactly. This job has a rather large and not uncomplicated physical component as well. Though frankly, I was hoping that she might be working with more experienced associates.”

Before either Ruby or Yang could retort, Penny’s voice piped up. “They are my team. I trust them, and they, me. I will not work with anyone else.”

Weiss sighed, then settled back into her seat and regarded the women in front of her shrewdly. She gave a graceful shrug. “Fine, if that’s how it is, then let’s not waste any more time.”

“Yes, we’d hate if you missed your evening spa treatment,” Ruby sniped, glaring up at Yang after receiving a metallic elbow to the ribs.

“Don’t make me regret my decision,” Weiss snapped. “You’ll each find a shard in the armrest nearest you. Please slot it in so we can begin.”

Yang and Ruby looked at each other, then reached for the small silicon and copper sticks. Yang ran her ‘ganic hand up under her waves of golden hair, finding one of the open slots on the shaved side of her head and slotting it in. Ruby smirked at her and stuck out her tongue. She kept her dark hair reasonably short for quicker access to her slots and frequently gave Yang shit for her ungainly mass. But Yang never yielded; what was the point of being a badass if you couldn’t look great at the same time?

Besides, Penny had long hair, and Ruby never gave her grief about it. Though Yang suspected she knew why the console jockey might get special treatment. Not that she’d ever say anything. They’d figure it out. Eventually.

Yang’s mind snapped back to the present as her HUD was replaced by schematics, a wireframe of a vaguely familiar building that scrolled across her vision-

“Want to tell me why we’re looking at SchneeCorp’s Vale Headquarters?” Ruby asked.

Of course she had seen it first. Yang knew it wasn’t just because of those fancy eyes she was rocking, though they probably didn’t hurt. Ruby had an incredible visual memory. She probably had most of the sprawling skyline of Vale memorized.

“That’s where you’ll find our target,” Weiss replied as though she thought this was perfectly reasonable.

Ruby reached up and yanked the shard from her socket. “Well, this has been preem, but you can let us out now. Thanks for the ride.”

“You haven’t heard me out.”

“We’ve heard enough,” Ruby replied. “Right, Yang?”

“I mean…”

Ruby whipped her head around, and Yang told herself that the look of betrayal would fade. Ruby would forgive her, but they couldn’t just leave. “Yang, come on.”

Yang swallowed. “No, we’re going to hear her out.” Ruby went from shock to fury to fuming resignation quickly enough that anyone unfamiliar with her mercurial moods would’ve suffered serious whiplash, but this wasn’t Yang’s first day. She rode it out and turned back to their potential client. “Go on,” she said. It was an effort to ignore the smug look on the woman’s face as she did.

“As you so accurately surmised, the target is within SchneeCorp’s local headquarters.”

“Which means it may as well be on the fragging sun,” Ruby muttered.

“Which means,” Weiss cut in. “It’s good that you have someone with so much insider intel. Those schematics include security measures and all other pertinent information needed for the extraction.”

“How recently was this data acquired?” Penny, asking the useful questions, as always.

“Yesterday,” Weiss assured her.

Ruby sighed and slotted the shard again, sulking as her silver eyes unfocused and she went over the data. “Penny, did you get my upload?”

“Yes, but even with this data, I see no good way to get inside.”

Yang knew that being jacked in like Penny meant she was processing things much faster than the rest of them, but it was always disconcerting how quickly she came to conclusions over the wire. Still, it never paid to doubt her. She looked up at the maddeningly calm woman across from her. “Got anything else for us?”

“Naturally. Does this mean you’re in?”

“It means we’re considering it,” Ruby said before Yang could commit them.

Weiss cocked one perfectly trimmed eyebrow, sensing the discord but smart enough not to say anything. “Fine. My father is hosting an exclusive party next week in the ballroom that occupies the top floors of the building. Only the biggest SchneeCorp investors are invited. I can get us in. From there, we simply need to slip-”

“Hold on, us?” Ruby asked.

Yang couldn’t argue with her sister’s reaction. “Look, Ms. Schnee-“

“Weiss is fine.”

“Ok, Weiss,” Yang said, feeling more than a little weird talking to a suit like they were chums. “No offense, but we don’t bring clients with us on jobs.” It wasn’t entirely true, but telling her they didn’t bring amateurs with them on jobs likely wouldn’t have gone over well.

“If I don’t come, there is no job. End of discussion.”

Yang ignored the blatant look of I-told-you-so from Ruby and did her best to only groan on the inside. She reminded herself that all of these annoyances were just going to lead to a bigger payday. A payday they desperately needed. “Fine, you come. What are we stealing?”

“Liberating,” Weiss corrected. “It doesn’t rightly belong to my father, so it isn’t theft.”

This time Yang couldn’t hide her annoyance. “I doubt security will care about that distinction. What is it?”

Weiss looked ready to retort but decided to answer the question instead. “A particularly valuable prototype. That’s all you need to know.”

“Ok, but are we talking a prototype tank or a prototype chip?” Yang asked. “That kind of makes a difference.”

“It’s,” Weiss fumbled, just for a moment, but then she recovered her composure. “It’s the size of a shoebox.”

“Why would you put a shoe in a box?” Ruby asked.

“No, you put a pair of…” Weiss looked between the equally mystified sisters. “Shoes come in boxes.”

Yang looked down at the boots that had been 3D printed for her at a dirty kiosk in a dirtier alley. “Clearly, we shop at different stores,” she deadpanned.

Weiss held up her hands, less than shoulder-width apart. “A box, this big. A shoebox.”

“If you say so,” Ruby said with a shrug. “How heavy? Feel free to give the weight in gold bars. You know, something relatable.”

“Assuming your head is full of lead,” Weiss snapped. “Lighter than that.”

Yang fought the urge to laugh at the frustration flushing Weiss’s face. Time to get back on track. “Ok, ok. Why is this ‘shoebox’ so important?”

”If this piece of tech works out, SchneeCorp will no longer just be the biggest company on the planet; it will become untouchable.”

Ruby shook her head. “Why would you want to sabotage your own company?”

Weiss bristled before going back to examining her expensive manicure. “It’s not my company. It’s my father’s.”

But Ruby wasn’t satisfied. “Still, why-?”

“Let’s just say he and I don’t always see eye to eye,” Weiss said. “Besides, I…I was recently disinherited.”

“Sounds like we’re getting in the middle of family drama,” Ruby snarked.

Weiss narrowed her eyes, but there was something sad there. Her voice seemingly didn’t get the memo, however. It was all ice. “Will you take the job or not?”

“I don’t like it,” Ruby muttered as they waved their way past the familiar bouncer. They were regulars at the Nest, the bar their uncle ran mostly as a convenience to host his real business.

“Yeah, Rubes, you’ve said like a million times,” Yang replied, striding through the mid-afternoon crowd toward the back. “But you know what I don’t like? Living on the street and scraping food out of dumpsters. Which is what we’ll be doing without this job.” Ruby grumbled. Like she had every time they'd circled this particular block. She let it drop when they approached their uncle’s table.

“Hey, my favorite nieces!” he called, waving a glass that Yang doubted was his first. She worried that his ever-present five o’clock shadow and disheveled hair were going from intentionally rakish to unkempt. But his drinking didn’t seem to be interfering with business. Yet.

Assuming this job didn’t go down in flames.

“We’re your only nieces, Uncle Qrow,” Ruby laughed, apparently oblivious to the reek of alcohol as she gave him a quick hug and flopped into the seat next to him.

Qrow chuckled and tussled her hair. “So you are. Did you meet with our illustrious client?”

Yang spun a chair around and straddled it, her arms crossed over the back. Ignored Ruby’s sour look. “Sure did,” she replied, searching his glazed eyes for the cunning intelligence that she hoped was still in there somewhere. “You sure this is on the level?”

“The money’s on the level,” he said as he took a long draw from his glass. “What else do you need to know?”

“It would be nice to know that we aren’t about to get flatlined helping some suit get back at daddy,” Ruby offered.

“What she means is,” Yang corrected, glaring at her innocently smiling kid sister. “We want to make sure this is done right, so we can collect our credits and walk away.”

Their uncle swirled his dwindling drink a few times, then raised it and rattled the ice. Moments later, a waitress placed a fresh glass in front of him. He thanked her. “Look,” he said, sampling the contents of his new cup. “I checked her out, asked around. I mean, she’s Weiss Schnee. It’s not like it’s hard to get info on her.”

“Did you know she got booted from the family?” Ruby asked.

Qrow nodded. “Of course, why else do you think I sent you two to talk to her? Sure, this is some corpo bullshit, no question, but she has real beef with her family. The job’s legit. Besides,” he added, smiling with his eyes over another gulp of the colorless liquid. “Her creds spend well enough. She paid my finder’s fee upfront, and I suspect her offer to you two was…generous.”

“It was,” Yang agreed.

“It has to be!” Ruby shot back. She turned to their uncle. “She wants us to break into,” she looked around, then lowered her voice. “SchneeCorp headquarters here in Vale.”

Qrow shrugged. “I know.”

“You know?” Ruby demanded.

“Hey, at least it’s not the main headquarters on Atlas station.”

“It may as well be!” Ruby retorted. “I don’t see how hijacking a shuttle and going to fucking space could be any more insane.”

“Calm down, kiddo,” Qrow said, a frown tugging at his lips. “It can’t be as bad as all that.” He turned to Yang, obviously looking for support. “What do you think, Firecracker?”

Yang had long since stopped correcting him when he used her childhood nickname. “It just feels…too big, you know? Don’t get me wrong, we need the creds, but why us?”

“She asked for the best, so I gave her the best.”

Yang shook her head. “Uncle Qrow, I know we’re family, and I appreciate the sentiment, but-“

“We’re not even close to the best,” Ruby supplied.

“Not with that attitude,” Qrow admonished playfully, but his grin faded under their twin glares. “Honestly? She asked for the crew with the best netrunner, and there’s only one I know personally that can claim that title.”

Ruby crossed her arms. “So she does just need Penny.”

“Look,” Qrow said, fishing for words of wisdom he didn’t have and settling on the truth instead. “The gig needs an all-star deck jockey and some competent bodies. You three fit the bill, and you need the money, so I gave you the nod. That’s all.”

Yang sighed, but none of what he said had come as a surprise. She knew where they stood in the pecking order, and she and Ruby both knew that Penny was way too good for them. “Good enough for me.” She looked over at her sister, still slouched in her seat with her eyes scanning the ground. No doubt memorizing the pattern of microscopic cracks in the aging tile.

Eventually, Ruby gave up pretending she didn’t notice Yang’s gaze and looked up, then let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, whatever, I’ll do it. Penny?”

“I am in,” chirped Penny’s voice, the barest hint of excitement in her tone.

Qrow smiled and polished off the remainder of his drink. “Shiny. Now tell me how you intend to pull this off.”

“We’re being followed.”

Yang gritted her teeth to stop herself from swearing out loud. She had suspected they would be at some point, but it bothered her that she hadn’t spotted them. She supposed she should be grateful Ruby had. “How many?” she asked, pitching her voice low and not moving her lips.

“At least three,” Ruby replied, hawking a loogie and using it as an excuse to look over her shoulder. “About two blocks back,” she added.

“Fangs?”

“Probably. They’re definitely Faunus.”

“Well, I suppose we knew we’d be spotted when we crossed onto their turf.” Yang pushed forward, dragging them deeper into the Fang’s territory. She hadn’t had many pleasant interactions with the Faunus gang, but the same could be said of most gangs that had held sway in Vale. She had no specific beef with them, and she’d always gotten along as well with her Faunus neighbors as anyone else. It wasn’t their fault that their great grandparents had killed time messing around with their genes before passing them on. So now some of them sported extra ears or claws or whatever, who cares?

But Yang wasn’t naive. She knew that many did, in fact, care. That was why most Faunus preferred to live in cloistered communities where they could protect each other from the assholes who saw them as less than human. It was why she and Ruby were receiving a lot of suspicious glares through mostly shut windows and doors.

She wasn’t the only one feeling the unwelcoming stares. “Maybe we should get out of here,” Ruby suggested lightly, trying and failing to play off her growing unease.

“We can’t,” Yang replied. “Uncle Qrow is right; we need this chick.”

“Why? The three of us have always managed in the past.”

“We need someone who can slip past a state of the art surveillance system. Unseen.”

“We can do that.”

Yang snorted. “Please, when have we ever done anything quietly?”

“What about the job for that guy? What’s-his-name…Port? No one even saw us.”

“Yeah, because Penny hacked the signal on their optical implants and literally blinded everyone.”

Ruby tried to look offended but only barely stifled a chuckle. “Ok, but how about that time down at the docks?”

“The time when you set off an entire crate of flash-bang grenades?”

Ruby grinned. “I mean, technically no one saw us that time either.”

Yang’s lip tugged upward. “Yeah, and I couldn’t hear for a week.”

"It wasn’t that bad. Oh!” Ruby exclaimed, seemingly unconcerned with their tail save for the furtive glances she stole when they turned the next corner. “How about the-“

“I swear if you’re about to claim the Oobleck job was anything but a disaster, I’m going to scream.”

“We got away clean!” Ruby protested.

“We set the building on fire.”

“The fire suppression system came on almost immediately. There was hardly any damage.” Ruby’s smile faltered under Yang’s glare. “Ok, maybe we could use someone a little more…discrete.” Yang rolled her eyes at the colossal understatement. “But how do we know she’ll even help?”

“If what Uncle Qrow said about her is true, she’ll help.”

“Assuming we even get a chance to talk to her,” Ruby muttered.

Yang looked around. “We still being followed?”

Ruby’s lips were tight as she replied, “Yup, one more just joined up.”

“Well, we may as well kick this party off.” Yang flipped her optics over to infrared. She only had lens implants, nothing as fancy as the wonders Ruby was sporting, but they did alright. At least she could tell that the next alley was deserted. “In there?” she said, raising her chin.

Ruby sighed. She’d never liked close-quarters fighting as much as Yang, but there was no time to set up a proper ambush, and numbers were not on their side. “Yeah, looks as good as we’re going to get.”

Yang nodded. “Let’s do it.”

“‘No Ruby, we don’t need weapons, we aren’t looking for trouble,’” Ruby mocked, grunting as she dodged a massive fist that passed right through where her head had been a moment before. “Great idea, Yang!”

“Don’t be such a baby,” Yang replied, catching the arm of her own attacker and twisting it painfully behind his back until he stopped struggling. “Tell your buddy to stop attacking, or I break your arm in at least seven places,” she added to her captive.

He sneered up at her until she gave his arm a gentle tug. Once he stopped crying out in pain, he quickly begged the other man to stop. Their two friends were already unconscious on the ground, caught unawares by the pair of sisters after entering the alley.

“Look,” Yang said. “We aren’t here for a fight.”

“Tell that to those two,” the man struggling against her grip growled.

“Oh, so you weren’t about to jump us?”

“I…”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Yang snapped. “We didn’t want any trouble.”

“Then what are you doing in Little Menagerie?”

“Looking for someone,” Ruby supplied, stepping away from her own assailant, just in case he got any ideas.

“Who?”

The sisters looked at each other. Discretion really wasn’t their strong suit, so Yang decided not to overthink things. “Blake Belladonna.”

The man’s face darkened. “Why?”

“We just want to offer her a job. That’s all.”

“And what if I’m not interested?”

The alley went deathly silent. The woman’s voice sounded so close, but there was no one else there. Yang flipped her vision to infrared, saw nothing, flipped it back, and found the same. She watched as Ruby as searched as many spectrums as she could. She shrugged.

Yang shoved the man away from her and raised her empty hands. “So that’s why they call you ‘the Shadow,’” she remarked.

“They call me many things. What do you want?”

“We just want to talk.”

“You have a funny way of showing it,” the voice replied as the air in front of Yang rippled and bent until a dark figure stood before her in a mimetic suit. Yang had never seen one in real life, but it lived up to the hype. One gloved hand reached up and pulled off the hood and mask obscuring her face, revealing a set of golden eyes beneath a splash of midnight hair and two pointed, cat-like ears.

Yang gaped. She’d been given a physical description, but her uncle had failed to mention that the woman was breathtakingly beautiful. A second look at the skin-tight suit showed she had the lithe body of a dancer or a gymnast to go with her perfect face. Yang was mortified as she felt blood rush to her cheeks as well as other, mercifully less visible places.

The woman, Blake, shrugged. “You want to talk? Talk.”

“I, uh, right,” Yang stammered, then forced her wandering mind back on track. “We want to hire you for a job.”

“I told you, I’m not interested,” Blake replied coldly before addressing the man at Yang’s feet, “Yuma, get those idiots off the concrete and go home. We’re done here.”

A thought occurred to Yang. “If you’re not interested, why are you here?”

Blake’s lip curled. “A couple of outsiders wandered into my turf. I came to ensure you didn’t cause too much trouble.”

“Oh please, you could have let these guys chase us off. Admit it, you’re curious.” Yang hoped that her charm hadn’t strayed from playful into desperate, but it was hard to stay focused with those golden eyes boring into her soul.

Blake snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she said, but there was no venom in it.

Ruby, however, was done watching her sister flirt. “Yang, she said she’s not interested.” Yang was about to argue, but she saw that sly expression Ruby often got when she was being clever, so she decided to let her take her shot. “Besides, we don’t need her.”

Blake’s eyes narrowed as she turned toward Ruby. “Is that so?”

“It is,” Ruby asserted. “We came here thinking you were something special, but you just have a fancy suit.” She shrugged and looked at Yang. “Come on, we can just buy one. That's cheaper than splitting the take with someone else.”

Yang’s instinct was to come up with some excuse to keep this shadowy beauty around, but she wasn’t going to mess up Ruby’s play. Not that she had time to anyway. Blake arched an eyebrow. “Is that what you think? That I just put on this suit and it does the work for me?”

“You telling me it’s not?” Ruby shot back.

“Aside from the fact that it was handmade for me specifically, there’s more to it than simply turning it on,” Blake explained.

Ruby crossed her arms. “Prove it.”

“I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

“You’re right, and we don’t have to tell you why we came. Come on, Yang.”

Yang fought a laugh as she followed her sister back toward the mouth of the alley. She was only a few strides from the exit when she was stopped short by an invisible hand in the middle of her chest. She looked down, barely able to discern a ripple in the air in front of her where she assumed Blake’s arm was. The fingers on her collar bone retreated slowly, almost a caress. Yang's breath caught, but not before she inhaled a trace of something wild and dark; the scent of moonlight cascading through clouds on a rain-soaked night. Of freedom and open spaces that Yang had never seen but could suddenly feel in her bones.

Blake chuckled and shimmered back to reality and pulled off her hood. “As I was saying. Anyone can wear a mimetic suit, but not everyone can move without making a sound, without rippling the air, or otherwise looking like a big, dumb, person-shaped distortion of light. I saw you searching for me. How many spectrums did you go through?”

Yang shook her head. “I only have visible and infrared.”

Blake made a face. “Child’s play.” She turned to Ruby. “How about you?”

“Those two, plus microwave, and UV for passive. I didn’t get around to active scanning.”

“And?” Blake challenged.

“Nothing,” Ruby admitted. “I suppose we could use you.”

Blake smirked. “You undoubtedly could.” Then she seemed to remember herself. “Unfortunately for you, I’m not interested.” In a flash, the hood and face-covering were back in place, and she vanished.

But Yang knew she was still there, could feel it, and it was time to show her hand. “What if I told you that the job involved stealing from the Schnees?”

There was a long beat of silence. Yang began to worry that Blake had already ghosted. Then her face reappeared, hanging in midair above seemingly empty air. Her mouth was drawn in a frown, but excitement danced in her eyes. “The Schnees?” she prompted.

“That’s right,” Yang said. “We’re going to rip off their next big prototype. From right under their noses. It will probably cost them billions.”

Blake’s eyes positively shone at that. “Well,” she said, her body shimmering back into view as she held out her hand. “Why didn’t you say so? When do we start?”

Yang took her hand, the fluttering in her stomach driven by more than excitement over a plan coming together. But she wasn’t going to think about that. Instead, she simply replied, “Now.”

Ruby marveled as Blake demonstrated her suit’s capability on their walk through narrow streets to the address Weiss had given them.

“See?” Blake said, going from completely invisible to a bouncing jumble of distorted light and back again before emerging back to full visibility. “It’s not just about the suit. The wearer has to know how to move. Otherwise, it’s nearly useless.”

Yang shook her head, pretending not to watch the display as she tried to focus on their surroundings. She still wasn’t completely sure about their client, and the last thing she wanted to do was march them into an ambush.

“Too bad it’s a bit of an odd fashion statement,” Ruby commented, indicating the strangely patterned black on black. Yang resisted the urge to voice her thoughts on the skintight outfit. Instead, she turned her head and took the chance to clear her throat.

Blake looked down at herself and shrugged, then reached up into a small pouch on her back and pulled out jeans and a long white jacket that really didn’t seem like they could have been hidden away in so small a space. She somehow stepped into the pants without breaking stride, then twirled the jacket around her shoulders. All of it effortless, fluid, and so cool that Yang nearly had a coughing fit as she tried not to visibly drool. Blake smirked up at her. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, shiny,” Yang wheezed. She stopped. “We’re here, by the way.”

The trio looked at the rusted steel door before them. The building was one of countless nondescript towers on the block, all packed in so tightly it was impossible to know where one ended and another began. The address was right, though, so Yang reached up and knocked twice, hard, wincing at the loud clang of metal on metal.

They stood in silence, waiting. As the seconds dragged on, Yang began to feel more and more like an idiot. Just as she was preparing a line to act like she’d planned on getting stood up, an unseen speaker squeaked to life, carrying the cold tones of their client. “That’s not the Winter Maiden. Who is she?”

Yang looked around but saw no obvious place for a microphone, so she addressed the door. “We needed an extra hand to pull off our plan. I’ll personally vouch for her.”

There was a long pause before Weiss replied, “Fine.” Then the door unlocked with an audible click.

Yang swung it wide and waved the others through, stopping Ruby as she passed. “Is Penny wired in?”

Ruby shook her head. “No,” she replied, “She’s going to join us.”

“In meat space, seriously?”

Ruby shrugged and stepped through the door. “Yeah, she said this is too important not to be here in the flesh.”

“Huh, crazy. She almost here?”

Ruby blinked, her eyes unfocusing as she accessed her HUD and sent a message. A moment later, she responded. “Yeah, she’s a minute or two out.”

“Preem,” Yang said, looking up and down the street.

Ruby grabbed her arm, pulling her inside. “She’ll be here,” she insisted. “Come on. Where’s Blake?”

The pair wandered into the darkened building, the remains of what used to be some sort of office but had long since fallen into disrepair. Muffled voices were coming from a room in the back, one of which seemed increasingly frantic. It occurred to Yang where Blake may have gone. She took off at a sprint through the empty hallways, making her way toward the sounds of distress, Ruby hot on her heels.

“Blake, what the fuck?” Yang cried. Their newest recruit was holding a gleaming, black sword. Its razor-sharp tip rested lightly against the throat of a very still, very wide-eyed Weiss.

“You said we were stealing from the Schnees, not working with them,” Blake hissed.

Yang faltered. She had considered telling Blake the whole truth but figured it would be easier to explain after she was in. She apparently hadn’t thought that line of attack through all the way. “Yes, we’re working for Weiss Schnee.”

“For?!” Blake demanded.

Yang cursed herself but pressed on, “But she’s the one who wants to steal the tech from SchneeCorp.”

“So I’m just helping one Schnee in a powerplay against another? No, fuck that, and fuck all of you. I thought maybe you two were on the level, not just a pair of grimmgirls working for corporate scum. For a fucking Schnee.”

The accusation hit Yang like a slap in the face. She’d been called a lot of things in her life. Many of them unpleasant. But to be equated to those soulless killing machines that traded flesh for chrome until they were barely human, anything to get better at zeroing targets, all for a quick buck… She looked down at her arm, gold and black and nothing like the one it had replaced. Then she looked at Ruby, at her wide and shining silver eyes. Those inhuman eyes. Those expensive eyes. She felt her blood begin to race, to boil, but she forced it down. She couldn’t let this fall apart. Not now. Not when they were so close to getting out.

She took a breath. “Look, I get why you don’t like the Schnees-”

“You don’t know the first thing about why I hate the Schnees!” Blake cried. “The things they’ve done to my people.”

“I know, you’re right. I don’t. Just like you don’t know my life story. And none of us know the full version of Weiss’s. But we’re all on the same side here.”

“Stop.” Blake leaned forward but didn’t pierce the porcelain skin under her sword. “The best you can hope for now is to convince me not to kill her where she stands. Go ahead, give me one good reason.”

Yang’s mind raced, but Weiss had apparently had plenty of time to think. “Because I want to destroy Jacques Schnee and everything he’s built,” she said, her voice tight as her throat moved against the blade.

Blake narrowed her eyes, and for a desperate moment, Yang worried that Weiss’s gambit might fail. Then the sword lowered with a snap. Blake pressed a hidden button on the hilt, and Yang watched in fascination as the blade collapsed into it. Blake stashed the weapon back in her small bag. “Either you’re the best liar I’ve ever met,” she remarked. “Or you have a truly screwed up home life.”

“You have no idea,” Weiss murmured, massaging the angry red spot on her throat. “Are you in?”

Blake curled her lip and crossed her arms. “I’ll stay to hear the plan. No promises.”

Weiss blew a breath out through her nose but didn’t press the point. Instead, she turned to Yang and Ruby. “Is there anyone else you’d like to bring in who might want to kill me? Or is it just her?”

Yang grimaced as she and Ruby finished entering the room. “Just her,” she assured her. “Penny’s generally not much of a killer.” Weiss glared at her, her eyes flicking over her shoulder when they heard the outer door open and close. “We’re back here!” Yang called. Ruby would have let her know if it was anyone but Penny.

Their favorite runner ambled in a moment later, all red hair and freckles and green eyes. “Salutations,” she said, looking around the ramshackle room. She didn’t seem to notice that her chipper greeting was completely at odds with the strained air in the room, but that was Penny for you. Yang gave her a wave, impressed that she had at least remembered to change out of her cryo suit before coming over. Truly jacking into the net was dangerous business, with heatstroke from neural overload one of many potential causes of death for the unwary. Longtime runners, like Penny, didn’t need anything too extreme, like an ice bath. But she still spent most of her waking hours in a suit meant to regulate her body temperature. More than once, after a job, she’d forgotten to change out of it before she came out to join them for drinks. At least she always took their ribbing in good humor.

“Hello, Ms… Winter Maiden,” Weiss corrected. She looked relieved that Penny was there, and Yang was reminded again why their team had really been selected. A job’s a job, she told herself.

“Ms. Schnee,” Penny responded, sidling up next to Ruby, of course. It was only then that she seemed to notice the extra body in the room. “I do not believe we have met,” she pointed out.

“Blake,” the Faunus offered, looking Penny up and down.

“My name is Penny. I am the netrunner for this crew. As this is a job, I prefer to be referred to as Winter Maiden.”

“Noted,” Blake responded, still giving Penny an odd look.

“You expect me to be heavily chipped?”

“I…yes,” Blake admitted. “Every netrunner I’ve ever met has been heavily modified.”

Ruby laughed and looked at Penny fondly. “She doesn’t need anything more than a basic link. Penny’s got everything she needs in that big brain of hers.” She reached up and patted her friend’s head.

Penny rolled her eyes. “I have told you, my brain is a completely normal size, it simply-“

“This is fascinating, really, but I’m on something of a tight schedule,” Weiss cut in. Ruby made a face but held her tongue when Penny squeezed her hand. Blake still looked less than thrilled, but she wasn’t pointing a sword at anyone, so that was a win. Finally, Weiss’s eyes landed on Yang. “Well, do you have a plan?”

Yang smirked and rolled her eyes. Working with this suit was going to be such a pleasure, start to finish. She tried to visualize a stack of credits as high as the stiff woman before her. It helped, a little. “As a matter of fact,” she said, smiling broadly. “I do.”

#janurwby #rwby #fanfiction #cyberpunk #heist

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kriscme · 4 years ago

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One Life to Live

Hi, so now we come to the end. The final two chapters. Thanks to everyone who’s been following this story. It can be read on AO3 too. My name is Kris22 there. As always, thanks to Ronja for allowing me to write fanfic of her Hunger Games fanfic “The Chance You Didn’t Take” available on AO3 and Fanfiction. And thanks to Loueze for her encouragement and support. Chapter 37 By the time the television crew was due to arrive, Peeta and I were as convincingly in love as two people could possibly be. Of course, it was helped a great deal by the fact that we actually were. Even so, we were hardly looking forward to our private lives becoming public again and cameras following us around as we went about our daily routine. We worried about how intrusive it might be. Cressida had promised it would be tasteful, but the Capitol idea of tasteful can be very different from the districts. I was afraid that it might be like that show I once saw on television about a houseful of people under constant surveillance. They couldn’t even shower in privacy. Would it be like that for Peeta and me? Would they follow us into the bedroom? Expect us to perform? Our one consolation was that we’d be left alone once filming had ended and we vowed to ourselves that we’d do nothing newsworthy for the rest of our lives. The day came. The house had been cleaned and tidied. Everything was where it was supposed to be to reflect a couple who lived together as romantic partners. Buttercup was bathed and freshly groomed. I had the scratches to prove it. Peeta, always considerate, had baked an assortment of breads for the crew, although I told him he shouldn’t bother. At 7 am everything was in readiness. 10 am came and went. And then 11 am. At 2 pm we were still waiting. At 4 pm we wondered if we’d got our dates wrong. It was 6 pm when Haymitch finally got around to telling us. They weren’t coming. At all. The video Remus took had violated victor media protection. I had been filmed without my consent, wasn’t engaged in illegal activity and hadn’t voided my own protection by taking on a public role or seeking publicity. Plutarch knew this but gambled that in our ignorance, we could be coerced into co-operating. And once filming had started, our media protection was automatically revoked, since we had clearly consented to it. It took only one phone call from Haymitch to President Paylor to have it sorted. I suppose it’s of some consolation that Plutarch was severely reprimanded and threatened with dismissal. And that he was also out of pocket for the purchase of the video and pre-production costs. As for Haymitch, I couldn’t decide whether to thank him or kill him. He had certainly saved us from our lives being turned into a media circus for a second time but he’d let us have the worry of it for a whole week. Peeta calmed me down and reminded me that it had brought us together. Haymitch’s defense was that he was sick to death of our crap and wanted an end to it. He thought that a week of living together would get us sort out our differences and he was proven right. I argued that it would have happened anyway, although I had to concede probably not as quickly. With that in mind, I decided to let him live. The year rolls around. Peeta doesn’t move back into his house. It was never discussed; it was simply taken for granted. We keep busy. Peeta still works at the bakery as a specialist cake decorator. He’s a partner now. The sign above the new premises reads “Carter and Mellark Bakery and Patisserie.” I teach at the school and on weekends I hunt. Marcus wrote to ask if I was interested in culling pest species such as wild dog and feral pig. I jumped at it. It seems you can be a hunter and a conservationist. Haymitch works at the council and raises geese, which he does a pretty good job of considering he’s inebriated most of the time. We attend two weddings and one toasting. Arthur and Lace don’t wait long before they tie the knot, or to be more accurate, thread the needle. Predictably, it was the source of much hilarity for Max, who was also invited. At least he refrained from making jokes until after the ceremony. I enjoyed catching up with Sateen and her husband Roy. They have a little boy. They called him Felt. Poor kid. The second wedding was Octavia and Thom’s. Octavia made a beautiful bride with her rich auburn hair and fresh complexion. Venia’s fear that their past as prep team to the Games would jeopardize their position in 12 proved needless. Everyone knew who they were. They’d seen them on television. Flavius’s bright orange hair and Venia’s facial tattoos made them easily recognizable. But people had moved on. They were tired of holding onto resentments – especially for three harmless beauty therapists whose former “victim” still willingly availed herself of their services. The toasting was ours. One day, we just did it. There was no planning, no prior understanding that we’d have one. It was the middle of winter. We were snowed in and confined to the house. Peeta got a roaring fire going and we picnicked in front of it using odds and ends from the pantry. We had some stale bread to use up and toasted it by the fire. He’d hold the toasting fork with a piece of bread to the flames and offer it to me when it was done. The significance of it entered our heads at the very same moment. It was just a look followed by a kiss. Nothing needed to be said. One day we might make it official, but for us we’re more married than any piece of paper or big party could make us. Johanna won the election for District 7 mayor. She’s kept very busy but we talk on the telephone regularly. She’s coming to visit 12 for a few days next month. Doubtless she’ll be as disruptive as ever. But sometimes we can use a little stirring up. That’s what Johanna says anyway. She takes full credit for getting Peeta and me back together and I can’t say she’s entirely wrong. And we had a visit from my mother! I had her possessions shipped to her home in District 4 and it seemed to have jolted something inside her, because soon after she was making plans to travel here. It was a short visit. She was nervous about coming here, of the memories it could evoke. But aside from the Village, there’s nothing left of the old Twelve. The debris from the bombs has long since been cleared away, new buildings have replaced the old, and the grass grows long and thick over the meadow. We had a long talk about her reasons for not joining me in Twelve after I’d been released from the Capitol. She feared being pulled down into a depression along with me. I understood. When you’re in the grip of it, you can see no way out. My mother, having recovered once, was deathly afraid that she wouldn’t recover a second time. And since misery feeds on misery, she would likely have only made mine worse. Peeta is somewhere in the house repairing the painting of the primrose he did for me. I don’t visit Prim in her room anymore except for that one time I when I wanted to tell her about my toasting with Peeta. She wasn’t there. She hasn’t been for a long time. It was then I realized that Prim doesn’t reside in any particular place. She’s with me every time I think of her. I took down the primrose painting from the top of the dresser. It belongs somewhere where I will see it every day. I had an idea for a book, similar to my family’s plant book. It’s to preserve the happy memories of the people we’ve lost. Lady licking Prim’s cheek, what Cinna could do with a length of silk. In my best handwriting, I carefully record all the details it would be a crime to forget and accompany it with a photo if we have one, or a sketch or painting by Peeta. There are photos of Finnick strewn across the dining table as I try to make my mind up on which one to use - a publicity shot that shows off Finnick’s sea-green eyes or a photo taken of himself and Annie at their wedding. “Katniss, I was looking for some kind of adhesive tape to fix the painting and I found this letter in one of the drawers in the study. It was addressed to me, so I opened it.” I look up, wondering what Peeta’s talking about. He holds the painting in one hand and a sheet of paper in the other. He leans the painting up against a wall and then pulls out one of the dining room chairs to sit across from me. He lays the letter down in front of him. I immediately recognize the handwriting on it as my own. It’s the first letter I wrote to him after the mayor’s party before I thought better of it and wrote a second. But not before putting it in an envelope and stuffing it in a drawer. I’d forgotten all about it. I try to snatch the letter away but he swiftly puts it out of my reach. “Dear Peeta,” he reads. “I’m writing to you because – ““You don’t have to read it. I know what’s in it,” I say. “Give it back.” I make another grab for it but he’s too fast. “. . . because I’m sure to get it wrong, or miss something important if I do this face to face.” He stops reading and hands me the letter. I take it from him, refold it, and slip it beneath the memory book, hoping against hope, that this will prevent any more mention of it. “Did you really want to break off all contact with me?” he asks, frowning. “I didn’t think it ever got that bad. When? Why?” I sigh. Why didn’t I throw the damn letter out? “It was after the mayor’s party. I was very upset when I wrote it. And then I had second thoughts and wrote you another. That’s the one I slipped under your door. I’d forgotten about this one.” He gives his head a shake. “I don’t understand. Nothing happened that night. Not between us, anyway. Did someone say something? Was it Max?” His lips thin in anger. “That – “ “No,” I say quickly. “It was nothing Max did.” I let out a breath, and plough forward. “It was something you did. You and Lace. It was when you sneaked off to have sex.” There’s a moment of stunned silence. “What?” “You know what I mean. I saw it all. Well, not all, but I did see the two of disappear through those swinging double doors only the staff used. And when you came back, Lace’s hair was all mussed. And if you didn’t have sex exactly, it was something close. That was really tacky, Peeta. Civilized people have more decorum than to do that. Civilized people wait until they get home. Civilized people – “ “Katniss, we didn’t sneak off for sex. Cass invited me to see the kitchens once the dessert course was over. That’s where we went.” Oh. I guess that’s a reasonable explanation. But that dream had been so vivid. “Then why was Lace’s hair messed up?” “Was it? I don’t know. I don’t remember anything different about her. We went to see the kitchen, Cass showed us around, and then we came out. Nothing else happened.” “But it was sticking out,” I insist. I know what I saw. The scene plays again in my head. I was at the bar with Haymitch and Max, sampling shots of whisky and getting drunker and more agitated by the minute. Agonizing over what they could be doing. Kissing, fondling each other, maybe even fucking. “And then you didn’t even look to see if I was still there when you came back,” I add in a small pitiful voice. It sounds so pathetic, saying it aloud. It’s a trivial reason for cutting someone out of your life. Just because they didn’t look for you when they came into a room. But after everything, that’s what tipped it over for me. What finally made me give up hope and decide to end it. He reaches across the table to take one of my hands. “Katniss, look at me.” I turn my face away, and he gives my hand a tug. I reluctantly meet his gaze. His eyes look earnestly into mine. “I can’t explain the hair, okay? But I can tell you what I do remember about that night.” He pauses, as if waiting for my approval before he proceeds. I shrug. “Go ahead.” He closes his eyes for a few seconds. “You, looking so beautiful in your Cinna dress. And me, assailed by memories of other entrances and other gowns. Being dragged around by Lace from one boring conversation to another, unable to resist looking around to see what you were doing. And Max, who didn’t leave your side for a minute unless it was to get you another drink. I was jealous of him without knowing why but attributed it to a fear of losing your friendship.” He pauses and adds, “At the time, you didn’t seem very happy with me.”I feel a twinge of remorse. He’s right. I was often moody and distant with him. The tape viewings weren’t going as I wanted and I’d recently learned of a pattern book he was making for Lace, similar to my family’s plant book. “You seemed to be having such a good time together, at dinner and on the dance floor. So, when we came back into the ballroom, I just didn’t want to be reminded of it. I kept my head down and headed for the nearest group of people. And then I did my best not to think about you. I’m sorry. I hurt you and used Lace to hide from my feelings. But that’s the truth, awful as it is.” But not nearly as awful as what I’d convinced myself of. I don’t know what to say. I feel so foolish. So much anger and pain for something that existed only in my imagination. And I’d also assumed that Peeta’s willingness to help me with the Marcus thing was due, in some part, to either empathy or guilt for having being in a similar situation himself. “No, I’m the awful one for jumping to conclusions. I thought the worst. You’d never be so crass as to do something like that. I owe you an apology. I should never – “ “You don’t owe me anything,” he says, interrupting me before I can go further. “In fact, the opposite is true. You wouldn’t have thought it if I hadn’t given you reason to.” He reaches across for the memory book and flips through the pages we’ve done so far. My father. Peeta’s father. Boggs. It stops on Rue. Peeta has drawn her poised on her toes, arms slightly extended, like a bird about to take flight. There’s a reason why I asked him to portray her like this. It’s how I want to remember her. You can’t change the past, but you can bring the best of it into the future. “Let’s make a deal. Only good memories for us from now on. Like this book you’re working on.” He walks over to where I’m sitting to pull me out of my chair. “Now come show me where you want this painting hung.” I take him into the living room. It’s the room we use most and where I’ll see it every day. As I decide where to place it exactly, Peeta comes to stand at my back to hug me from behind. I lean back against his broad chest and luxuriate in the strong arms that encircle me. My dandelion in the spring. The lullaby that Prim liked as a baby comes to mind. Here it’s safe, here it’s warmHere the daisies guard you from every harmHere your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them trueHere is the place where I love you. “I was thinking over the mantle? Or maybe on the far wall . . .” ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 38 Lace’s story: what happened on the night of the mayor’s party. It wasn’t fair! This was supposed to have been her night. She had been looking forward to it for weeks ever since Peeta casually mentioned it on one of their date nights. The mayor’s inauguration party was to be the biggest social event in District 12 in living memory. All the important and influential people in the district would be there. For ambitious Lace, it was invaluable in terms of creating contacts and securing the kind of clientele that could afford to buy her evening wear, a design niche she wanted to develop. Besides, she dearly loved a party and she hadn’t been to one in ages. The last one had been the district party where she had met Peeta for the first time. He didn’t remember it though. That was fortunate since she had come to District 12 for a new life and a new identity and didn’t want her past in District 8 compromising it in any way. Since she was to be her best advertisement, she put a great deal of thought and effort into her gown. She hadn’t much money saved but she splurged the lot on pale yellow satin and then spent many hours making it up. The final touch was a trip to the salon to have her hair colored and styled. It was an extravagance, keeping up the hair color. But she loved it and it formed something of a disguise as it was subtly different from the typical ash brown of the natives of her home district. As she entered the ballroom, Lace felt she was at the beginning of an exciting new phase. After a slow start, her business had gained momentum and she was making a steady income. A few family members had also made the move to 12 which added to her sense of security. But best of all, was the man on whose arm she clung. How did she get so lucky? Peeta Mellark! Her teenage crush. The romantic heartthrob whose posters had adorned her bedroom wall. The boy she had married in her dreams every night. What a fortuitus twist of fate it had been that day when he came into her shop to have a coat made. A flirtation had led to a date at a restaurant and then another, until she could now, without exaggeration, call him her boyfriend! True, he wasn’t quite what she had expected. He seemed a bit aimless, and he liked activities she had outgrown, like hanging out at the ice-cream parlor and the swimming pool, but he was Peeta Mellark! And he really was so sweet and considerate with his little romantic gestures and compliments to her beauty. He told her she was a wonder. And the more she kissed and flattered and stroked, the more wonderful she became. It was a mutual admiration society that she was more than happy to live in. The one blot on her happiness was Katniss Everdeen. Lace had mixed feelings about meeting her. Katniss was intimidating. Her reputation as romantic heroine, fearless symbol of the Rebellion, skillful warrior and (privately thought by most of the populace) savior from another Snow, preceded her. But most intimidating of all was her relationship with Peeta. He talked about her all the time. Not in a romantic sense, it was true, but it was clear she occupied a great deal of his thoughts. The Games had been mandatory viewing and Lace, like everyone in Panem, had watched Peeta gaze at Katniss with love in his eyes. But Peeta had an explanation for that. It had been an illusion. He thought he had been in love with her, but it turned out that he was in love with his idea of her, rather than who she really is. But now he thought of her as very good friend with whom he shared an unbreakable bond. As for Katniss, well, she had never loved him. It had all been an act on her part. That should have been reassuring. And it was. Sort of. But Peeta had lost many of his memories and what was left was distorted, so how could he be certain? But what gave her most pause wasn’t Peeta. It was Katniss. It was clear at the first meeting that Katniss didn’t like her. Katniss wasn’t rude, but she was cool, even giving her the once over when they were first introduced. And when Lace and Peeta discussed a housewarming gift from the two of them for Lace’s brother, a shadow passed over Katniss’s face. It was subtle but unmistakable. Katniss wasn’t as disinterested in Peeta as Peeta made out. That’s why Lace gatecrashed the tape viewings. If there was anything going on, she wanted to know about it. She didn’t trust Katniss one inch. Unfortunately, the second of the tapes triggered the memory of a traumatic incident for Lace and she reacted hysterically. Peeta asked her not to attend anymore and she had no choice but to do as he said. However, despite Peeta watching video tape of hugs and kisses and romantic slow dancing at Capitol parties, nothing changed between herself and Peeta. If Peeta had ever loved Katniss, it appeared that he no longer did. Even Leevy’s revelations in the salon that day didn’t worry her for long. So what if the star-crossed lovers had been real? It still aligned with Peeta’s version. What had happened in the Games and during the tours was before Peeta had realized his true feelings for Katniss. And she’d already guessed that Katniss was in love with him. The party was everything Lace had dreamed of. So elegant. The women in evening gowns, the men in dinner suits. Waiters with silver trays laden with flutes of sparkling champagne. The tables resplendent with starched white tablecloths and napkins and gleaming cutlery. She turned to Peeta to kiss his cheek. “Thank you so much for bringing me,” she said. “You really are the best boyfriend.” He brushed her lips with his and gave her a fond smile. “Only because I have the best girlfriend,” he replied. She beamed and squeezed his arm. She could hardly recall a happier moment. And then Katniss Everdeen arrived. Lace’s practiced eye immediately recognized her gown as haute couture. Cinna, probably. Deep blue, the bodice studded thickly with diamonds – were they real? – with a strapless sweetheart neckline and more diamonds scattered on the skirt. It dazzled and Katniss dazzled with it. Luxuriant dark hair cascading down her back in loose curls. Smooth olive skin, fine features and those surprising eyes. Silvery gray, the colour of storm clouds. She had a man for each arm. The school teacher Max Matson, who all the girls agreed was very good looking if you could get past his personality, and – it couldn’t be – Arthur! Lace’s friend who adored her since they were children together. She knew he was coming tonight but not with her! She felt the arm beneath her fingers stiffen and her glance swiftly turned to his face. Peeta appeared stunned, his mouth gaping slightly. There was admiration, certainly, but also something darker and more sinister. Recognition. A memory, perhaps several, had resurfaced. Lace’s happiness dimmed as if a cloud had passed across the sun. But she rallied, pulling Peeta quickly along to greet the new mayor and his wife who were momentarily on their own. Lace was in her element. She was a natural networker. She loved to interact with people and was always searching for opportunities. Peeta seemed a little distracted though. Looking around, not quite keeping up with the conversation. She followed his gaze, and it led directly to Katniss Everdeen, who, no surprise, was looking directly at him. They both looked quickly away, but that was of no comfort. It was clear that they were on each other’s mind. Meanwhile, she was pleased to observe, Arthur had detached himself from Katniss and was busy working the room too. Now there was a man with get-up-and-go. He didn’t let his natural reserve get in the way of achieving his ambitions. Lace waved him over and he changed direction to come to her side. Soon they were talking business, a fascinating subject for them both. She didn’t notice how restless Peeta was during the exchange. Dinner was announced and everyone made their way to their allocated seats. Unfortunately, theirs was a dull table and not even Lace’s pearly laugh could liven it up. A burst of laughter from nearby grabbed her attention. Arthur and Haymitch seemed to be at the center of it. It caught Peeta’s attention too. He seemed envious, it appeared to Lace. But whether it was over the entertaining company or because Katniss was seated there too, she couldn’t tell. After the food had been served, people resumed their mingling, moving from table to table. Peeta wanted to talk to Katniss. Ordinarily, Lace wouldn’t feel particularly threatened by this. Over the preceding weeks, Peeta had confided to her that Katniss seemed uninterested in spending time with him unless it was watching the tapes. And even then, she often seemed angry with him. Lace immediately guessed the situation. Katniss had grown frustrated with Peeta. He hadn’t responded as she’d hoped and she was distancing herself as a form of self-protection. As long as this status quo was maintained, Lace felt safe. But after tonight, she wasn’t sure of anything. Lace demurred. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea. Katniss appeared occupied and hadn’t he told her that she didn’t seem keen on his company lately? It was best to leave her alone. But Peeta said that they should, that it would look odd if they didn’t. So, when Max headed off in the direction of the bar, leaving Katniss on her own, Lace reluctantly let Peeta lead her to where Katniss sat. It was an awkward conversation. Lace embarrassed herself with her ignorance on what it meant to be a victor at the district parties and having to face the families of the dead tributes. Worse, she let it slip that she had been to a district party. Her story was that she’d been a factory worker in 8. Factory workers weren’t allowed to attend district parties. Fortunately, Peeta didn’t pick up on it, but Katniss appeared to sense that something was amiss. There was an awkward pause. Peeta broke the silence. “Are you going to let me talk to Katniss?” he said to Lace, pretending to be annoyed. She had intended to stay at Peeta’s side, but perhaps it would be better to leave before she dug herself a deeper hole. “Okay, okay,” she said, in mock surrender. “I know when I’m not wanted. I need to go to the ladies’ room anyway. Just stay out of trouble and don’t bug Katniss.” There, that would show Katniss who’s really in charge and hopefully plant a seed that Peeta wasn’t exactly happy in her company either. She stroked his hand and kissed his cheek, enjoying her Svengali-like effect, knowing that his eyes would follow her as she walked away. She went to the ladies’ room as she said she would and did the usual things women do there. She wanted to get the timing right and was gratified to see Peeta waiting for her at their table when she returned. The dancing started up soon after and Lace pulled Peeta to his feet. She loved to dance. Peeta didn’t. His prosthetic leg made it a chore rather than a pleasure and he had faint memories of dancing at Capitol parties. But he wanted to be a good boyfriend, so up he got, and shuffled dutifully around the dancefloor with her. But then Katniss and Max came into view. Max had Katniss pulled tightly against him and he swung her around in a series of fancy turns, almost lifting her off her feet. They were making fools of themselves, thought Lace. That’s no way to behave at a formal event. So undignified! So tasteless! She turned to Peeta, expecting him to be as unimpressed as she, but his face was hard, giving away nothing. Suddenly, he put his head close to hers and whispered words in her ear. She nodded and followed him through the double swinging doors the staff used to bring food from the kitchen. It had been pre-arranged. Peeta had told her about it. Cass from the bakery was to show Peeta around the kitchens. He had never seen a commercial kitchen before. While he marveled at the long row of ovens, the walk-in freezer, the huge storage room, Lace could barely stifle her yawns. So boring, and it was fricking cold in there after the warmth of the ballroom. But she stuck a smile on her face and did her best to appear interested but she was hardly in the mood to hear about the merits of blast chillers when her heart was breaking. Somehow, she had to widen the gulf between Katniss and Peeta. She had to ensure that any fledgling signs of a possible reunion between them was snuffed out before it could begin. And then she had an idea. Just as they were about to re-enter the ballroom, Lace ruffled her carefully styled hair and swiped the back of her hand across her mouth to wipe away some of the lipstick, smearing it a little. Let Katniss believe that she and Peeta had snuck away for some canoodling in a dark corner. Isn’t that what Peeta and Katniss did as star-crossed lovers? Sneaking off to be alone when they were at fancy events? It was in a fan magazine she’d read, anyway. With a bit of luck, Katniss’s mind would go straight there. She scanned the room and saw Katniss by the bar with Max and Haymitch. The hour was growing late and the crowd had thinned but there was a group of merry young people standing around nearby. She started to lead Peeta in their direction, but he seemed to have the same idea and led her. And when his arm went around her waist and he pressed a fond kiss to the crown of her head, relief flooded through her. Everything was as it should be. She turned in his arms slightly to look over his shoulder and managed to catch a glimpse of Katniss’s stricken but resolute face, just before her hasty exit with a startled Max close behind her. Satisfied, she leaned her head against Peeta’s shoulder and he squeezed her waist. She had worried over nothing. It was inevitable that as Peeta regained his memories they’d be focused on Katniss. They were, after all, the memories that Snow had meddled with. It didn’t mean that Peeta was wrong when he said his feelings for her had been an illusion. The real proof of who he loved was in who he chose to be with. And that was her, Lace Bomul from District 8.

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give-me-back-my-rhodey · 4 years ago

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Let’s Burn the World Down - AUgust Day 6

Title: Let’s Burn the World Down

Author: Purple_ducky00

Rating: Teen

Relationship: Clint Barton/Tony Stark, Background relationships: Bucky/Natasha, Steve/Sam

Link: Read on AO3

Summary: Tony falls in love with the guy he keeps meeting in the ER. Too bad the guy already has a girlfriend... or does he?

+++++++++++

For a billionaire, Tony has to go to the hospital very often. Whether it’s a lab accident, a car accident, an assassination attempt, and/or anything else, Tony finds himself in the ER at least once a month. His insurance is higher than his standards, which isn’t saying much, Tony surmises, because he’s halfway in love with the guy he sees almost every time he goes.

They’ve seen each other so frequently that they’ve started nodding to each other and saying, “What are you in for?” like they do in the movies at the police station.

Although he’s being truthful, Tony knows that most of his incidents sound very made up. “Oh, they sent someone to assassinate me, but I managed to flirt my way out of it with only a stab wound.” “My lab exploded.” “My robot dropped a steel sheet on my foot.” “I tripped on something and fell off my porch to the porch below.” But he is even more disbelieving of this man’s injuries.

The guy says stuff like “I shot myself with a boomerang arrow.” “I was skydiving with my dog and my parachute got caught on a tree branch, and an eagle attacked me.” “I think that pizza I ate was too old.” “My old circus buddy tried to kill me. He failed.” “I fell out of the vents, and the bad guys beat me up.”

Today Tony comes in because he had to jump through a window to avoid Sunset Bain. He now has glass sticking out of his side, and he’s sitting calmly until a doctor can see him. The man limps in, bloody and skin mangled on his leg. The others in the ER gasp as he signs in and takes a seat beside Tony. “Hey man, what you in for?” He asks.

“Jumped out a window to avoid my ex.”

“Mood.” The man nods sagely. “I just battled a cougar and won. Before you ask, yes it was the cat kind, although I don’t doubt that a middle-aged woman couldn’t do this if she was rejected.” He gestures to his leg. Tony barks out a laugh.

“Oh, they could. Trust me. By the way, I never got your name. Or did you want to stay anonymous?” Tony asks.

The man shakes his head. “We’d go great no matter how we do it. Name’s Clint.”

“I’m Tony.”

“Yea, I know.” When Tony looks at him, surprised, Clint pats his shoulder placatingly. “You’ve got these people fooled with your greasy shirts and hats, but I never forget a face. Don’t worry, I won’t rat you out. But why do you come to this crappy ER all the time? Aren’t you supposed to go to the ones that are made for rich people?”

Tony shrugs. Truthfully, the first couple time he came, it was because he had happened to be in the neighborhood when disaster struck. He had struck up conversation with Clint, and he decided that if he were able to talk with him, Tony would keep coming to this ER. “I don’t know. I’m in the area a lot, I guess.”

Tony gets that he has problems. He knows that he quickly falls in love with anyone who will show him kindness or even just the time of day because he didn’t get enough love and attention from his parents as a child. He goes to therapy, and he does make an effort to figure out which people are being nice only because they want something, which people are just simply being nice, and which people are flirting. It’s still hard sometimes, like now. He doesn’t think Clint wants something because 1.) he just said that he won’t rat Tony out and 2.) he could have taken Tony’s wallet very easily many times. But is Clint just a nice dude, or does he like Tony?

A nurse gets Tony just as another comes for Clint. Tony lies on his side for far too long as they pull glass from his body. When he’s cleared to go, the doctor tells him, “You have to be more careful, Mr. Stark. You’re not invincible, and I’d hate to see anything happen to you.”

“Thanks Doc. I’ll do my best.” He shakes the man’s hand.

On his way out, he sees Clint talking to a beautiful redhead. She is reaming him out in Russian, calling him and idiot and a few other unsanitary words. Clint tries to console her, but she grabs his hand and pushes him into her car. She speeds off, still shouting in Russian. Tony’s heart drops. He has no chance with Clint now. No one would give up a woman like her for him unless they wanted something.

The next time Tony gets hurt, he goes to the ER near his home. He is in and out shortly, but Tony feels incomplete. He misses the easy camaraderie with Clint. I can still joke with him as friends, right? There’s no harm in that. He reasons, but he chickens out the next time, when he accidentally burns his arm with his blowtorch, and then when he gets shot. This keeps happening until it has been at least three months since he last saw Clint.

Tony gets drunk in a bar | in Brooklyn. Very, very drunk. The thing about being a Stark – you can hold your liquor very well, and even when you are so drunk most people black out, you can still walk and talk albeit hindered a little. Well, Tony is that drunk, and this is when he tends to overshare. He’s telling the bartender, a beefy man with long brown hair, about Clint. “So, there’s this guy, you know. Only time I see him is when I go to the ER. He’s really cute, he’s got like tons of biceps, and he’s funny. We used to see each other all the time, and I think I love him. But one time, I saw him, and he had a girlfriend. Super, smoking hot redhead – like I don’t even stand a chance. So, I’ve been avoiding him. It’s dumb because he doesn’t know I like him, and I keep convincing myself that I can still talk to him as friends and such, but then my brain just tells me he has a girlfriend, and I end up going to an ER near my house. You know?”

“Not really.” The bartender grins. “But I’m not an ER regular.”

“That’s too bad. It’s fun there sometimes.” Tony pats his hand somberly. “Sometimes we freak people out with our injuries. But we’re calm. It happens so much that we’re just like ‘meh’. The doctor told me to be careful because I wasn’t invincible, and I was like ‘ok, I’ll tell my enemies to stop trying to kill me. I hope it works.’”

The bartender throws back his hand and laughs. Tony drains his glass of Scotch and asks for another. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” The bartender asks. What was his name? Barney? Barn?

“Barnes!” Yells someone from the other end of the bar. “I need a mimosa stat!”

“Shut your whore mouth Wilson!” Barnes yells back. “I’m not serving you anything after what you and Steve put me though last night!” He turns back to Tony. “The dude’s dating my step-brother, and our walls aren’t soundproofed. I hate them so much.”

“I could soundproof your walls for you.” Tony offers. He’s not sure why he offered, but he did. It’s not like he hasn’t done it before.

“Thanks for the offer, but Nat and I will get them back at some point. Maybe we’ll do it on the couch.” Barnes grins. “Someone else can make Sam’s mimosa. Wanda’s working that end of the bar anyways.” He gives Tony one more Scotch and says, “This is your last one. I’m going to have to cut you off because I don’t want you to die.”

Tony quietly sips on his drink while Barnes makes other drinks. Once done, he stuffs a few hundreds in the tip jar and turns to leave when a scarlet-haired woman sits on the stool beside him. Tony blinks at her for a second, thinking that she looks familiar. Barnes’ face lights up, and he comes over to her. “Hey, come here often?” He asks, fake seductively.

“Don’t be an idiot,” She tells him and pulls his face in for a kiss. Tony realizes why he thinks she looks familiar. She’s Clint’s girlfriend!

He spins on his stool to face them. “You bitch!” He yells at her, then clamps a hand over his mouth as Barnes growls a warning. “I am so sorry. I don’t know your situation. You could have broken up with him, or hey, you’re a threesome, or an open relationship. I’m sorry. I was just caught up… and I’ll just go.”

Tony stumbles off the stool and heads out of the bar. Mind swirling with liquor and shame, he doesn’t notice he’s in the street or the ugly purple car headed towards him until it’s too late. Frozen, he stares down the lights until the car smacks into him.

Lying on the ground, the last thing he remembers is a person jumping out and yelling, “What are you doing, you idiot? Tony?”

Tony wakes up in a strange place. He feels like he should be in the hospital, but he’s not. Looking around, he sees a lot of… purple. “Ugh, no one should have this much purple anything,”

“I take offense to that.” A voice says. Wait… that’s Clint. Tony wildly tries to sit up, and Clint comes into his line of vision. “Hey, hey lie back down! I don’t think anything’s broken, but you should probably just let your body rest for a while.”

“What happened?”

“I hit you with my car because you were standing in the middle of the street. Why were you standing in the middle of the street?” Clint looks worried.

Tony tries to wave him off. “You know, just for the thrill.”

“Tony, most things I do are just for the thrill, and I know it’s idiotic to stand in the middle of the street.”

“Yeah well, the thing I did before it was idiotic, too, so I’m pretty good at that.” Tony sighs. He doesn’t really want to get into it because Clint will probably make him leave. Tony’s good at leaving. Everyone makes him leave after they learn his true self. Ah, well, what does he have to lose but the love of his life?

“So, last time we were both at the ER, I saw the woman who picked you up. I guess I just figured you were dating the way you both interacted with each other,” Tony explains. “Well, at the bar last night, she came in and made out with the bartender. I called her a bitch because my first thought was that she was cheating on you. Then I remembered that it had been three months, and I didn’t really know anything about you – you might have broken up, or were poly, or open relationship. Point is, I’m an idiot who speaks before he thinks then faces the consequences, even if they’re not direct.” He is very confused when Clint starts to laugh. “What’s so funny?”

“I can’t believe you called Natasha a bitch and still live to tell the story.” Clint says between gasps. “That’s fuckin hilarious. I am sorry that I hit you with my car.”

Tony is thoroughly confused, and Clint takes pity on him. “Natasha is dating Bucky, the bartender. She’s my best friend and confidante. She gets angry when I do stupid things, but I still do them. We are not dating, never have, and never will. Hopefully, that clears things up.”

“A little.” Tony just feels disoriented. This is not something he has ever had to deal with before.

There’s a knock at the door. This “Natasha” pokes her head in. “Hey Clint, is he ok?”

“Yea, come in. Tony meet Natasha Romanoff. Natasha, this is Tony Stark.” Clint gestures to the both of them.

Natasha smirks. “Hi Tony.”

“Hi,” He says weakly. “I’m sorry for calling you a bitch. I sometimes talk before I think, and I’m sorry.”

“Just don’t do it again. Are you guys hungry? Bucky’s making blini.”

Clint nods. “Tell him I love him. We’ll take two plates. You like blini, right?” He directs the question at Tony.

“I think so. I’ve only had them once or twice,” Tony says. When Natasha leaves, he tells Clint, “You don’t have to stay with me. I’ll be fine.”

“Well this is my room, so I want to stay here. By the way, how have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while. I was starting to think you took my fancy ER comment seriously.”

Tony grimaces. “Well, it’s a long story. But I did end up going to the ER near my house a couple times. It’s hard to get no injuries in the stuff I do.”

“Well, I don’t blame you for going to the uber fancy ERs, you know, because there’s better service or whatever. But if you do, can we hang out somewhere other than the ER, then? I kind of missed you, man.” Clint looks at Tony earnestly.

“The main reason I stopped going to our ER is that I saw you with Natasha and thought, ‘how could I ever compete?’ I would tell myself to just go. I could talk to you as a friend, and not me crushing on you, but I always psyched myself out when I got hurt, and I just went to the ER by my house.”

“You’re crushing on me? Wow. I did not know that. I crushed on you the first day I saw you, and I thought you were just being nice. I’m a dumpster fire on my best days.”

Tony shoots him a wicked grin. “Then let’s burn down the world together.”

#ironhawk #background buckynat #background samsteve #au_gust_2020 #i write!#hospital au #no powers au #tony stark #clint barton

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name-me-regret · 4 years ago

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If The World Was Ending 4/?

If The World Was Ending Chapter Four: Los Angeles, I’m Yours

Read on AO3.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

“There is a city by the sea A gentle company I don't suppose you want to?

And as it tells its sorry tale In harrowing detail Its hollowness will haunt you

Its streets and boulevards Orphans and oligarchs A plaintive melody Truncated symphony. An ocean's garbled vomit on the shore Los Angeles, I'm yours...”

~ Los Angeles, I'm Yours - The Decemberists

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

‘Hey, Buck, it’s me. I just want you to tell Christopher I’ll be a little late picking him up, got our hands full here. It’s a good thing you’re missing it. Hope you guys are having fun.’

Buck was exhausted and lightheaded, but constantly looking for the boy with curls and a smile bright enough to light up a room. “Hey! There’s a kid under here!” a woman yelled.

“Christopher?” he exclaims, desperately clinging to any hope that it’s the little boy he’s looking for. “Hey! Hey, guys!” He hurries over, water sloshing around his legs and the Chris’s glasses hanging around his neck. “Hey, hey, big guy! Me and you, come on!” A man that’s almost four inches taller than him (which is impressive since he’s 6’2, hurries to help him. “All right, three, two, one. Go!”

They lift the heavy sign off the child, and as the others cheer and help them stand up, his hope is crushed when he sees it’s a twelve year old girl, not Christopher. The woman consoles the crying girl and Buck sighs in deep seeded exhaustion.

When someone says they might have seen Christopher at a Cupcakery on Strand, he forgets his fatigue and is moving again. He’s so wrapped up in wanting to find Chris and already numb, that he doesn’t notice that the edge of the sign has cut his arm pretty deeply.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Tony landed at a gas station, the water having receded, but the debris has done damage to the pumps and some were leaking. After pushing the emergency shut off button, he called it in and put up caution tape he’d snagged from a Home Depot store blocking off the driveway. Hopefully people would stay away, since there was a lot of spilled gas.

“Iron Man, there’s a fire at a Shell Gas Station on West Century Blvd,” he heard a woman’s voice from dispatch. He had just gotten back in the air as the call came in, heading toward the areas still heavily flooded with water. He was about to go put that fire out but saw a little boy in a yellow t-shirt sitting on top a car. “J, put out that fire out, I have eyes on a child in need of rescuing.”

He swooped down as the boy lifted his eyes to the sky, his small face covered in mud but looking relatively unharmed. Tony landed next to the car, making sure not to land too hard and risk upsetting the water and possibly knocking him over. “Hey, buddy,” he said, the faceplate lifting up.

“You’re Iron Man,” he said with a bright smile that made Tony smile as well.

“I sure am, what’s your name?”

“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers,” he told him, making Tony grin again. He had an adorable lisp, and it made his heart melt. Despite what they said about him, he liked kids. It’s just that he feared turning out like Howard and messing up the life of an innocent child that made him never want to become a dad.

“That’s true and your mom and dad are smart for having taught you that.” He could tell he was having a hard time keeping his head up, and he didn’t think it was from fatigue. Maybe a disability.

“My mom... she’s gone,” he told Tony with a sad, quiet voice.

“Well, my mom is gone too, and my dad.” He sat on the front of the car, and besides shifting a bit, it didn’t move too much under the weight of the armor. “It’s okay to be sad, you know?” The kid nodded, squinting at his face. “How about this, my name is Tony. Now you know my name, besides being Iron Man. Is it okay to give me your name now? Or your dad‘s name?”

“I’m Chris,” he finally said.

“Alright, well, let’s get you to the nearest hospital, Chris. The nice people there will make sure you’re not hurt and get you home, okay?” He reached out and gently picked him up, the kid gripping his shoulders a bit clumsily.

When Tony took to the air, he made sure not to go too fast. If he did, he might hurt Chris and that’s the last thing he wanted. That meant it was slow going, but it also allowed him to hear Chris as he cried out joyfully at flying.

Tony smiled at his resilience, and was sure Chris was going to be alright.

The man took him to the field hospital they’d set up at the decommissioned VA hospital on Sawtelle, handing him over to a nurse, who was in charge of the kids; getting their names and the names of their family to reunite them later. “Stay strong, kid,” he told him. “I’m sure your dad will find you soon.”

“Bye, Tony,” Chris said as he waved at him as he was carried away.

“Cute kid,” he hummed, before blasting back into the air despite his tiredness to continue helping more people.

That’s how he spent the rest of the day, putting out fires and rescuing anyone that was trapped or stranded, and unfortunately finding a lot of corpses in the water. He hated to move on after tagging them, but there were other, living people that needed him. Tony nearly lost it when he found a drowned infant and he couldn’t just leave her, cradling the tiny body in his arms and carrying her to the nearest hospital.

He had to take a break then before he fell apart completely, stepping out of the suit for the first time in several hours. There were several relief workers also taking a break and he sat with them as they welcomed him and tried to hand him some rations. “I uh...” he hesitated, fighting back a full body shudder that went through him as memories of being poisoned as a child filled his head. He’d taught himself never to take anything that was handed to him ever again. “I don’t... like to be handed things,” he finally managed to say.

The woman, a few years older than him, smiled and nodded, setting the rations down on the seat next to him. Tony was grateful, since he usually got derisive looks or sneers from people that thought Tony was just a stuck up rich person. The woman’s eyes were kind, and maybe she saw that it was from a trauma, or maybe she didn’t. He was just grateful when she made no comment.

After a moment, he grabbed the rations and the bottle of lukewarm water. It wasn’t the worst thing he’d eaten, so he scarfed down the dry protein bar and chugged the bottle of water. The sun was starting to sink as they shot the breeze, Tony making a note to set up a relief fund for not only the people affected by the tsunami, but also the ones working tirelessly to help those in need.

It was almost half an hour after sunset that he stood and bade them farewell, stepping into his suit and going off to help once again. He was sore and exhausted, but there were so many people still out there that needed someone. If he had to, he’d be that someone. Although, he figured after an hour or two he’d take a longer break, and maybe drop by Evan’s house to finally reassure himself of his safety.

As he was flying over Oceanside, he heard Captain Nash calling for medical transportation for 17 people, recognizing his voice almost immediately. He wouldn’t be able to carry that many, but maybe he could help. As he touched down, he scanned the area and immediately saw the downed light post, sparks flying from it, and even more alarming is when JARVIS indicated the leaking gasoline truck. Bobby immediately hurried over to him as soon as he landed. “Tony, we could really use your help,” the man says.

He wasn’t sure what he could do to help, but he could see the strain on his face, both from worry and fatigue from a long day working, so Tony would do what he could. “If it’s within my capabilities, then I’ll do what I can, Cap,” he told him. The man usually liked to work on his own if he wasn’t with Rhodey, the Avengers having been a one hit wonder that hadn’t panned anything. After all, no one had come to help him when the Mandarin had destroyed his house and he’d been presumed dead. However, it was different with Nash and his people. They all looked dirty and tired, having been working all day. The crew of the 118, and a lot more other rescue personnel had been working tirelessly to save people, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to help them when they asked for his help. He motioned toward the light post. “I imagine it has to do with that Sword of Damocles over there? And the truck leaking gasoline?”

Bobby was momentarily surprised, but shook it off before he nodded. “Yes... you know, one of my men called it just that.”

Tony smirked. “I‘ll have to meet him when we aren’t sitting on a potential explosion that could kill everyone here.”

The Captain nodded. “Well, I’ve sent two of my firefighters to acquire some vehicles, but I would feel so much better if the gasoline could possibly be neutralized.”

His mind was going a mile of minute, wondering if it would be better to douse the gasoline with kitty litter, or try and move the lamp post up and out of the way. Tony must have been talking out loud without realizing it, meaning he was more tired than he thought.

“Wait, are you sure you won’t get electrocuted?” Bobby knew the man was a superhero, and had faced many dangers, which included terrorists and even aliens. However, he wasn’t invincible, and he was just as human as Bobby was underneath his high-tech suit.

“Not to worry, Cap my suit once took a hit from Thor’s lighting and I’m still here. I’ve had 36 suit upgrades since then,” he said with a smile. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Famous last words,” the man said with a strained smile.

“Bobby, are you making a joke about my possible potential death?” he asked with mock shock, then gave him a wink as the face plate snapped closed before the man could respond. He flew toward the lamp post, grunting as he felt the shock of the electricity surge through the suit. It wasn’t as bad as when Thor had blasted him, but it was constant until he lifted the lamp post and away a bit.

‘Power at four hundred percent capacity,’ JARVIS intoned like deja vu.

Tony chuckled as he moved away from the light post, the thrusters in his boots keeping him in the air and not touching the gasoline that had already spread this far. He gave the thrusters more power as he went higher into the air. “J, give me the location of the nearest pet shop.” Tony figured that the best thing to do was bury it in non-flammable kitty litter and hope for the best.

“Alright, Cap, I’ve bought you some time, but try and hurry your men,” he told him over the frequency. He hadn’t seen Diaz among them, so perhaps he was one of the ones that had gone to get some form of transportation.

He flew there as fast as he could, knowing the others were on borrowed time. The window of the PetSmart he arrived at had it’s glass doors still intact. “Remind me to pay for these doors, J,” he said as he crashed through them in a rain of glass shards and metal. He went to the cat’s section, and the lights were out but he had flood lights on his suit, and night vision on his HUD. Tony yanked a shopping cart along and started to pile inside several bags of kitty litter, as much as would fit inside the cart. He rolled it outside and then hurried over next door to the hardware store,. “I hope they don’t try to arrest me for looting.” He grabbed two tubes of sealant that he put in a bag and dumped it into the shopping cart, making another note to pay for everything he was taking. “Next time I’m going to aim for a Sam’s or a Costco,” he sighed, lifting the cart.

It was harder to fly back at high speeds without losing the kitty liter, but he managed without dropping a single bag. He cursed when he saw that the lamp post had fallen despite his best efforts, the sparks making the gasoline catch fire, and he dropped the cart. Tony didn’t want to move the post again, so he grabbed one of the ten pounds bags and tore it open before he upended it over the flames. This particular brand was made from bentonite clay, which meant it wasn’t flammable. He managed to douse the flames with a second and third bag, but to make sure it didn’t catch fire anytime soon, he used every single bag to spread it over most of the area around the lamp post. He also got the sealant and after managing to lift the truck at an angle where the gas wasn’t spilling, used both tubes of the white plaster like sealant so make sure no more would spill. When that was done and he carefully set it back down, waited a moment to make sure it wasn’t still spilling, and then used the caution tape someone had left behind to wrap around the whole area. Just to be sure.

He saw the firefighters of the 118 loading the patients into what appeared to be mail trucks and was amused. “Alright, Cap, threat neutralized for now, but I suggest you double time it out of here,” he told him. He knew that neither he or Bobby were military, but he remembered that the guy with the nametag Diaz had a military bearing to his movements. If he hadn’t served, then he’d eat his own helmet.

“Thank you for your help, Iron Man,” he radioed back.

“Neither rain, nor snow, nor tsunami, Captain Nash,” he joked.

He heard a groan on the other end. “I hope you and Chimney never meet and become friends,” a woman’s voice said over the radio.

Tony chuckled to himself as he continued on. As he went over the city where no lights were on except the occasional fire, he felt his eyesight go dark. If it wasn’t for JARVIS taking over, he’d have crashed, and as it was, he was disoriented as he came back around, and realized that he’d fallen asleep mid-flight.

Well, he guessed it was time for that break he promised himself, and changed course toward Evan’s house. Tony didn’t have many actual friends, since people always wanted him for either money, fame, or in the case of Sunset, to steal SI prototypes. So, wanted to make sure one of the few friends he had was fine, since he wouldn’t deny that he’d been thinking about him ever since this morning.

So, he was looking forward to seeing his friend face to face after all these years.-

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caterinawriting · 4 years ago

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The Cost of a Legacy (1)

Summary: He sees her and she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, everything perfect. Well except the fact that they’re growing up during the revolutionary war. Their love will hit many hurdles and what the future has in store may not be what they planned.

Pairing: John Laurens x Reader

Words: 2,144

Not my gif

1765

“John hurry up, fathers already waiting in the carriage!” Henry, John's younger brother called. John slipped his shoes on and ran down the stairs to see his youngest brother James. “John I wanna go to New York too! Why is daddy only taking you and Henry!” He cried, tears welling in his small eyes.

“Aw James, father says you're too young, he's only taking us to watch how he does business. It's a punishment.” He looked down at his brother that wasn’t buying the excuse “Think about it we're going to be on a long journey for 12 hours in an uncomfortable carriage, while you're here playing with Martha and Mary.”

The younger boy wiped his tears and nodded before hugging his brother goodbye. John turned and waved before entering the carriage and shutting the door “Let’s go” His father told the driver, “John you console your brother so much, he'll never grow to be a strong man if you keep treating him like one of your sisters.” Henry Laurens was a ruthless man, always believing his sons should be strong independent men. John and Henry Jr both nodded at their father before retreating into silence, their father had an important meeting and the last thing he'd want is to be bothered by his loud children.

12 hours later

“John, Henry wake up.” John stood rubbing his eyes trying to kill his tiredness. His father would punish him if he seemed tired during his very important meeting. “Boys step out, straighten your suits, make sure you look presentable, the last thing I need is for you two to look like street boys in front of Mr. Gavalanch.” Mr. Gavalanch was a rich man who owned ships that transported slaves to the colonies, then sold them to Henry who sells them through the colonies. It's how John's family made most of their money, their way of life, at least that's how John saw it. If this was how their father supported his family, and how John and his brothers would support theirs when the time came that was fine.

His father led them to one of the nicest homes John had ever seen, even nicer than their home. His father brought his hand up to knock, his knuckles right at the door before he paused. John and Henry Jr looked up at their father wondering why he hadn't knocked yet, their father took a deep breath, and finally after a couple of those he knocked.

The door opened and there was one of the scariest men John had ever seen, he was tall and broad. His mustache trimmed and hair perfectly placed, eyes piercing. John couldn't help but notice that Mr. Gavalanch was very unflattering to look at. “Mr. Gavalanch how are you?” His father extended his hand to the taller man, “Henry please come in, I see you brought your children. Boys enter, come out of the heat.” Mr. Gavalanch moved to let them in, John had noticed that Mr. Gavalanch hadn't shook his father's hand, not a good sign.

“Go ahead into my study Henry, boys why don't you go see the town?” John's father retorted “Oh no Mr. Gavalanch my boys are here for our meeting too, I thought it would be good for them to see how our business works, you know teach them young. Besides my boys don’t know the city very well, they'd get lost.” Mr. Gavalanch laughed and began leading Henry to his office, “Henry their boys too young to care for this business, maybe in a couple of years they'll be ready to sit in but now no. (Y/N) Come down! My daughter can show them around, she's only 4 years younger than your oldest.” John heard a loud bang and a voice from upstairs “On my way Daddy!”

“My (y/n) is my princess, my only child. She is as beautiful as her mother, if not more. Unfortunately, my wife Mary died before we could have any more children, so boys you'll watch after her well.” John and Henry Jr nodded fearing the man, they heard footsteps from the staircase.

Down from the staircase was the most beautiful lass John had ever seen, Mr. Gavalanch was right (y/n) must have gotten her beauty from her mother because she looked nothing like her father. She walked up to John and extended her hand to him “(Y/n) Fiore Gavalanch” John took her hand and kissed it “John Laurens a pleasure.” She smiled at him and he swore his knees had never felt so weak, she turned to Henry Jr and repeated the action. Mr. Gavalanch smiled and leaned down in the middle of John and Henry “Don't fall in love boys, she's too good for both of you.” He moved to his daughter and whispered in her ear and she nodded and pecked his cheek. “Okay, Henry let's have our meeting, take good care of her boys.” He waved bye and entered his office, Henry turned to his boys and gave them a stern look, John supposed it was to remind them to be on their best behavior.

“Okay, so do you boys have anywhere specific you'd like to go?” They both shook their heads, she stood there for a moment and it seemed like she was thinking. They stood in silence for a couple of moments then she gasped. “I know!” She pulled the boys so they made a circle “Do you wanna learn about your futures?” She whispered.

“What? How?” Henry asked, confused, she smiled, grabbed their hands, and let them out the door. “My friend Angelica knows someone who can tell you one thing about your adult life.” She led them through the town until they reached another rich home, not as big as (y/n) but huge. She knocked waiting for an answer, the door opened and a girl with dark hair opened “(Y/n)! Who's this?” She eyed the brothers. “This is John and Henry Laurens, their father is having a meeting with daddy. I wanted to know if you could take us to get our future told.” Angelica laughed and nodded excitedly. “Yes let me just go tell my father.” She ran back into her home, (y/n) turned back to us with her thumbs up. He turned to Henry who pulled him to the side “John should we do this, like isn't this witchcraft?” His brother was always too cautious. “No, we are not going to perform witchcraft, we're just listening to what they say, if you're not comfortable then you don't have to do it.”

“Then I won't.” Henry turned back to (y/n) who was still waiting, “Come on Angelica!” She yelled, growing impatient. “Okay I’m good, NO ELIZA you're not coming!” John saw Angelica push a smaller girl back inside before slamming the door. “Follow me” Angelica linked arms with Henry and began leading the way. (Y/n) smiled at me before linking our arms, “So does your father import slaves, or does he distribute them?” John looked at her shocked he wasn't expecting her to ask that. “My father trades them, your father imports them right?”

“He does, is that what you plan to do when you're a man too?” Her tone got sharper, “I suppose it's what my father has set for me and my brother.” He shrugged, “And you suppose that because I personally don't, when I'm a woman I'm going to move away so my husband doesn't inherit my father 's business, then I’ll die with him. So my family's involvement with this horror will be diminished.” He laughed but immediately stopped when he saw how serious she was. “I'm sorry I'm not laughing at what you said it's just you're so well-spoken and educated for a 9-year-old.” She gave a small smile “My father hired me private tutors to educate me. He says women deserve to be educated like men, how else can we educate our children.”

“I'm not 100% sure how the business works yet, my father says I’ll learn more when I’m older.” She nodded “Well pay attention well because I'm sure you'll change your mind when you see what that business truly is.” Angelica stopped, the pair silenced, “Were here.”

(Y/n) smiled eagerly, she pulled him towards the most unkempt house he'd ever seen. Angelica led them to the back of the house where a woman was sitting staring at the sky. “Excuse miss we heard you give predictions of one's futures.” The woman looked at Angelica, her piercing blue eyes scaring him, “I don't predict, all I say is true. It could happen today or 15 years from now. I don't know when all I know is it will occur.” She motioned for Angelica to sit down and reached her hand out which the young girl took. The trio watched in awe as the woman closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“You must find a way to keep yourself satisfied, you'll see that with the time you won't get everything you want. One day you will have to give up your happiness for another, but you mustn't let this stop you from finding your own happiness.” She let go of Angelica's hand and motioned for John to come over, he switched positions with Angelica and took her hand. “You young man are destined for greatness, but you must be careful because arrogance and cockiness will be your downfall. If you keep on the right path you will be successful.” She let go of his hand and looked at Henry “No thank you, Miss my mother would approve of me doing this.” She simply nodded and turned to (y/n), (y/n) sat down with the woman and took her hand “Oh you my dear will struggle dearly, I can see you will have to overcome much.” (Y/n)’s smile faded “You my dear have plans but not everything will come together for you.”

“Is that all you see?” (Y/n) asked, hoping for something uplifting. “I see one more thing but I don't know if I should tell you.” “Please tell me, I can take it.” The old lady took a deep breath and said 4 words that would confuse (y/n) for years. “Your first will die.” (Y/n) ripped her hands away and looked up at the group “Let's go home guys” Angelica suggested waving goodbye to the old lady before making her way out of the property.

“Do you think it's true, what she said?” (Y/n) asked them as they made their way back uptown. “No, I don't think so, everyone says that lady is crazy. She probably had nothing better to do than scare kids, right.” Angelica replied, looking at John and Henry, “I don't believe in that, that's why I didn't do it.” Henry said, walking a bit ahead, (Y/n) simply nodded. They continued on their way home but all that she could think was her first what?

They arrived back to Mr. Gavalanchs home after leaving Angelica at her home and sat on the steps. “I'm sorry for taking you guys so far for a hoax, I wish we had done something different.” John looked at the beauty next to him, “It was interesting to say the least. I just hope on my next visit you don't take me to see dead bodies. ” He joked, causing her to laugh and his brother to groan, “No don't worry next time you're in town I'll take you somewhere special, fancy, and beautiful.” (Y/n) smiled at him before gasping “You too Henry!” Henry snorted “Don't bother I'd rather not I’m better off in Carolina.”

“So it's a date then?” He smirked, “No sir I'm afraid I'm too young for that, for now, we'll call it a catch-up, every time we see each other we'll ‘catch up’ deal?” She extended her hand “Deal” he took her hand but instead of shaking it he turned it and planted a sweet kiss on it. (Y/n) blushed, taking her hand back.

The door opened and there his father and Mr. Gavalanch stood, “Princess your flushed why don't you go lie down for a bit.” “Yes daddy goodbye Henry, John.” And with that, she ran back into her home turning to look at John one more time before running up to her room. “Well, I'll see you next time than Henry, send me a letter when you've got control of the situation okay?” His father nodded waving goodbye, leading his boys down the steps, “How was it father?” Henry Jr asked, “I'll tell you later boys get in the carriage we've got a long ride home.”

“Father I don't want to come next time” Henry Jr complained, as he entered the carriage after his father, John looked up at the home once more seeing (Y/n) waving frantically from her window, he waved back smiling. “Well, I do.”

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

Well this is part 1 its a little odd I know, but I got the idea one day and thought it would be interesting to incorporate an idea like this. Next chapter will be when they are older. Let me know what you guys think!

Thank you :)

#hamilton #john laurens x reader #john laurens #reader insert #angelica schuyler #eliza schuyler #peggy schuyler #alexander hamilton #lafayatte

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queen-of-bel · 4 years ago

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i think someone already asked for paz and kaz?? if not then them, in case someone asked for them, kandori and maki for the hc meme!

MY TWO FAVE DUOS EVER. i’ll do them all bc i could fill out a hundred prompts about them

Persona 1, Persona 2EP, general Metal Gear spoilers incoming

Putting under a read more because it is loooong (sorry in advance)

Kandori

realistic: Oh, Kandori was absolutely the one who alerted Nanjo to his existence in p2ep. I’ve written multiple posts on Kandori’s motivations, but bottom line, Kandori wanted to work against Nyarlathotep’s plans as much as he believed his fate would allow him to. Kandori had infinite strength and should have been the impenetrable stronghold that kept Tatsuzou safe. He is the only boss in the entire game to not have a low health stance, and he resists everything. He’s able to catch Tatsuya’s sword with one hand, as Tatsuya says:

“Kandori tilts his face out of the way, and when my blade grazes his ear, he grabs it with his left hand. All I have to do is pull back, and it’ll cost him his fingers. He gives me a broad, natural smile. However, even when I yank it with all my strength, my sword doesn’t move a centimeter. It’s like it’s caught in a vise.”

Kandori’s revival should not have been found out by anyone (especially since everyone watched him die the first time). But somehow, the word leaked back to Nanjo. It’s not impossible to think that it was Togashi who leaked the information, but there’s a line of Kandori’s that really makes me think Kandori himself was the source.

Once Maya et. al + Tatsuya arrive on the Nichinmaru, Kandori says that “all the players are in place”, implying that he’s the one who brought them all together like this. This was a very meticulously crafted plan, and it only could’ve worked if Nanjo heard of Kandori’s revival, which leads me to believe that it was Kandori, not Togashi, who spread the rumors of his own revival.

while it may not be realistic, it is hilarious: Due to the high levels of contempt he feels for Tatsuzou, I’d love to think that Kandori just fucks with Tatsuzou constantly. He’ll move all the furniture in Tatsuzou’s office just a few inches to the left, or he’ll swap the position of some of the books on his shelf. It’s infuriating to Tatsuzou bc Kandori’s antics are just enough that he knows something is off, but he can never pinpoint exactly what it is. Kandori, meanwhile, insists that nothing is wrong, and convinces Tatsuzou that it’s just his old age getting to him.

heart-crushing and awful: I bet Kandori kept tabs on the P1 crew during his time under Tatsuzou. While he’s said to have an obsession with Tatsuya, there’s no reason to believe that the care he showed for Maki in P1 went away, and he’s grateful to the P1 cast for saving her. I like to think that Kandori found out that Reiji’s going to have a child, and stashed away a large amount of money (bonus points if he embezzled from Tatsuzou) to send to him, especially since Reiji’s girlfriend’s house collapsed. Kandori doesn’t sign his name on it or anything, so the money arrives to Reiji in an unmarked envelope, with only Reiji’s name written on it.

Reiji first thinks that it might have been Nanjo who sent the money (because that envelope is packed, and Nanjo is the only person he knows rich enough to send that much). Nanjo denies this, and after a while, the two of them come to the conclusion that the only other possible person could have been Kandori. Reiji thankfully accepts the money, and this whole incident reinforces in his mind that “Takashi” was the right name to choose for his son.

unrealistic: In order to cope with the boredom and emptiness he felt as SEBEC’s Mikage-Cho branch president, Kandori set up a secret room in SEBEC filled with video game consoles. During the height of his depression, Kandori would just be so engrossed in his games that he would forget he has actual meetings to go to. Cue Takeda apologizing profusely to clients, saying that Kandori’s running a bit late, and Takeda has to practically drag Kandori by the collar out of the little gamer den that he’s created for himself.

Maki

realistic: After her training under Eriko, she realizes that she misses painting and wants to pick it up again. She eventually incorporates that into her profession, becoming an art therapist.

while it may not be realistic, it is hilarious: Maki really wants to be good at baking, but she’s terrible at it. You know, like this:

She knows that she’s created a monstrosity but at least it’s still edible, right? So she brings these to P1 cast reunions. Nanjo is just appalled, and has to excuse himself because he knows he’s just going to be too blunt (prompting Mark to call him a “dickweed” again). Yuka, having no filter, just straight up says how horrible they look, but then she offers to teach Maki how to bake, since she’s pretty damn good at it herself.

heart-crushing and awful: Maki definitely regrets not accompanying Maya to the Nichinmaru. She doesn’t blame Nanjo/Eriko for not being able to save Kandori, but ever since she heard that Kandori was alive again, she’s wanted nothing more than to talk to him again.

She thinks that if she were there at the undersea ruins, maybe she could have convinced him to come along with her. This regret is just going to add to the massive amounts of guilt she feels over the Mikage-Cho incident.

unrealistic: It took ideal Maki a while to perfect her “cringe” negotiation. When she first tried it, she would burst out laughing too much, absolutely ruining it, and angering a lot of demons along the way.

Paz

realistic: Kaz has constantly asked her to come feed treats to Nuke with him. She’s always agreed, because that’s the role she’s supposed to play, but she really hates it at first. Eventually, as she comes to like Kaz more, it becomes the highlight of her day, and she begins to really look forward to it. She finds herself prolonging Nuke’s feeding sessions, just so she can spend more time with Nuke and Kaz.

while it may not be realistic, it is hilarious: So you know how Paz couldn’t stand Kaz at first? She wasn’t exactly subtle about it, so everyone at MSF knew that Paz thought Kaz was an enormous idiot. Cecile was so happy to find someone else who felt that way about Kaz (and she’s always wanted a reason to get closer to Paz), so she goes to Paz to air her grievances about what a pest Monsieur Miller is being. Paz, meanwhile, does not give a single shit. She still thinks Cecile is just a ditz, and now she’s irritated that she has to deal with both Kaz and Cecile’s annoying antics.

heart-crushing and awful: I’ve thought about this for a long time. I really have. But there is nothing, absolutely nothing that can be any more awful than what we got in canon. I have a lot of characters that fall under the “deserved better” category, but Paz takes the top of that list.

Paz is a unique character in Metal Gear in that she was not supposed to have anything to do with war. Other characters’ lives in the series were intertwined with war, whether by choice or by fate. Even characters like Chico or Sunny were born into it, given their parents and upbringing.

It’s never clear how Zero was able to come in contact with Paz, but I think it was intentional to never specify it. It’s not important to know how Zero found Paz, because fundamentally, Paz is not an important person. She’s nobody special. She was literally just some random orphan living in the US, and Zero went out of his way to drag her into his plans.

To me, Paz’s character parallels the child soldiers in Zanzibar Land. They’re both representative of how ruthless Zero and Big Boss were in their quests to fulfill their interpretations of the Boss’ will. Zero and Big Boss were both willing to employ any tactic possible to reach this end goal, and they didn’t care about the pain and destruction they left in their path.

But I digress...

That being said, I think Paz felt sick when she saw MSF soldiers playing with the mini remote-controlled ZEKE that Huey had built. For her, it was just a reminder of the duty that she had to carry out. She wasn’t allowed to be happy at MSF, and she eventually would have to fight to the death with Snake.

unrealistic: Writing Love Deterrence with Kaz and Zadornov made her want to learn how to play the guitar. In my totally self-indulgent “Zero and Skull Face both get brain aneurysms and drop dead 4 days before Peace Day” AU, Paz approaches Kaz and asks him to give her guitar lessons.

Kaz

realistic: The morning after the monthly birthday party at MSF (you know, where Kaz invited everyone to see the real Kazuhira Miller?), he’s embarrassed as hell. He been so protective of Paz the entire night, and it turned out he was the crudest person at the party. He goes to apologize to Paz, and can barely look her in the eyes as he’s doing so. Paz, meanwhile, can’t stop laughing. Her opinion of Kaz had been softening ever since he visited her when she was sick, but interacting with him during the party had really made her like him. Kaz still feels a bit of shame, but upon seeing Paz genuinely laugh for the first time, he can’t help but feel so publicly embarrassing himself was all worth it.

while it may not be realistic, it is hilarious: MORE 90S FOXHOUND PETTINESS

The first year that both Big Boss and Kaz are at FOXHOUND, Kaz bakes a cake for BB’s birthday. As BB accepts the cake, he wonders if Kaz has forgiven him, but then he looks down at it and sees

And these are the cheapest, shittiest cigarettes that Kaz could make, because you know his petty ass rolled them himself. BB picks up a cigarette and it’s so sloppily rolled that it immediately falls apart and the tobacco spills all over the cake and the floor and BB looks up to Kaz and Kaz is just smiling back like

heart-crushing and awful: Ohoho, I have many thoughts as to Master Miller’s life post-Zanzibar Land and his final moments. Now that Big Boss is finally dead, Kaz’s life loses all meaning. Skull Face, Huey, Big Boss, they’re all dead, and suddenly, the decades of anger he carried with him has nowhere to channel itself to. I think he becomes an empty shell of a man, just sort of running on autopilot.

So when Ocelot breaks into Kaz’s house to kill him, you absolutely know that Ocelot wasn’t discrete about it. There’s no way that Ocelot’s overdramatic cowboy ass didn’t gloat about it, to show that he was able to get the upper hand in the end.

Kaz just doesn’t care.

Kaz’s life is plagued with regrets. While none of it was intentional, his impulsivity and short-sightedness has really screwed over a lot of people and absolutely destroyed so many people’s lives. I think when Ocelot came to kill Kaz (and I’m going to toss in a bit of torture, just because Ocelot’s petty ass remembers Kaz complaining about Ocelot’s getting “too many kicks from his ‘art of interrogation’”), Kaz just resigned and doesn’t even attempt to fight back. He knows that this is a sad and undignified way to die, but he believes that this is karma and he deserves it.

unrealistic: Okay I’ve talked about this a little, but I want to add to it.

Kaz absolutely kept a Burn Book like in Mean Girls.

After MGSV, Big Boss and Ocelot make their way in the book as well. Underneath Ocelot’s picture, Kaz writes “Too gay to function. Also, cowboys are stupid.” BB has got 5 whole pages dedicated to him, but the line that Kaz is most proud of is “Didn't shower for a month... during SUMMER, and to this day still hasn't washed his hair.”

Thank you for asking!

send me a character and i’ll give you some headcanons

#OH LORD THIS IS SO LONG I'M SORRY #mg #p1 #p2 #takahisa kandori #maki sonomura #paz ortega andrade #kazuhira miller #also now i want to rewatch mean girls #i saw the shower quote in the burn book and immediately thought of bb #also how can you not hear the 'too gay to function' line and NOT think of ocelot #90s foxhound x mean girls crossover #is it a surprise that these two are my fave duos ever?#the parallels between them #heartbreaking #thinking of zero as nyarlathotep #very juicy food for thought #answered

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taste-thewaste · 5 years ago

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Brave Things-Madderton fic

Title: Brave Things Ship: Madderton Word count: ~1400 Summary: Taron’s depression has been impacting his relationship with Richard, who urges him to get help. It isn’t easy, though. TW/CW: self-harm undertones, mentions of depression, anxiety A/N: A lovely anon submitted the sentence prompt of “that was a brave thing you did today, love” and this is what came out. This is fluffy and kind of sad and born as a result of my own issues right now lol. I hope you enjoy <3

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“Okay. Thursday at 2. Yeah, I’ll see you then. Thanks.” Taron clicked his phone off and set it down on the table. He’d taken the phone call standing up, pacing back and forth by the console table by the front door, his back to Richard, who was lounged casually on the sofa. He stood there for a minute, not saying anything, and Richard didn’t say a word. Finally Taron turned around and gave Rich a shaky smile.

“Proud of you, bubs,” Rich said softly, and Taron nodded.

“Thanks.” Taron flopped down gently on the sofa next to him.

“Want to talk?”

Taron shook his head immediately. “No, no. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. I’m good.” He smiled again, still shaky.

Richard answered Taron’s smile with one of his own, sad and still. “You can say you’re good all you want, love. I’m not going to believe it.” He reached out and grabbed Taron’s hand and tried to twine his fingers through T’s, but Taron’s hand had tightened, wouldn’t allow Rich to do what he was trying to do.

“I did what you wanted me to do, Rich. What else do you want from me?” Taron asked, and his voice was curt and flat, void of emotion completely. He wrestled his hand away from Richard’s.

Rich scrubbed his hands over his face and sighed. “T, you know it’s time. I didn’t want to push you. I just want you to be happy.”

Taron folded his arms over his chest, folded into himself. Rich had seen it happen a thousand times. He’d been watching Taron shut down in front of him for months, and when he got like this, Rich knew he wouldn’t get anything else out of him. He’d spent ages trying to coax him out of it when he was like this, and it never worked. Instead, he reached over and kissed Taron, gently, on the side of his head, and then went to start fixing dinner.

-------

Taron was mostly silent for the rest of the night, picking at his dinner and watching TV with a blank look on his face. Rich snuck looks at him every so often as he pushed his own dinner around on his plate, his mind racing with a million things he wanted to say but with no idea of how to say them.

He wanted to tell Taron that he was sorry he didn’t want to do this, but he knew how good it would be for him. He wanted to tell him how scared his behavior had made Rich over the last few months, how he woke up sometimes just to make sure he was still there, still breathing. How he sometimes took inventory of every sharp item in a given room, every object gleaming with the potential to be dangerous, seeming to light up in his eyes like they’d been doused in lightning; how he sometimes braced himself before rolling over in bed and saying “good morning” because he didn’t know if it would be a good morning for him; how he left his cell on, the ringer turned up jarringly loud no matter where he was or what he was doing, because he was terrified of ever missing one of T’s calls or texts; how his heart ached to watch Taron fold into himself instead of opening up. How he didn’t mind doing these things with and for Taron, because he loved him wholly and completely, no matter what the state of his mental health was, and he would do anything for him...but he was so scared of messing up, and scared of how much worse it could get.

You are not broken, he would tell Taron if he thought he would listen. You are whole, just the way you are, even with all of this going on. You are bright and talented and kind and funny and marvelous, exactly this way, exactly as you sit here right now. He would gather Taron in his arms if he would let him, hold him as tightly as possible, whisper nothings in his ear and nuzzle his cheek and cry with him, oh, he would cry with him, if Taron would let him. He did enough crying of his own right now, because loving someone who was suffering every day and thought their life was meaningless, when you know just how incredible they are, was hard. More than hard, it was almost impossible sometimes.

But he couldn’t say all of these things, because he had said most of them, in one form or another. It didn’t do much or help much, when he said those things, because Taron didn’t believe them. He’d spent months reassuring Taron that he was not a broken, useless man, that he had so much to live for, that things would get better. He’d always shaken his head vehemently, denying Richard’s words, until one day he’d just glumly nodded, saying “Okay,” in the quietest, defeated voice.

He’d started doing that around the time that Rich’s soothing words had started to include a gentle cajoling, a plea for him to get help, something that Taron had fought tooth and nail. He’d told Rich that it was pointless to try to get help. He’d said he was broken and it was useless to try to get help. He’d said he didn’t need help, he just needed to suck it up and get better on his own. Time and time again, Rich had refuted these claims, begged the man he loved to get help. Taron had always refused.

Until this afternoon, when he’d finally made the phone call to schedule an appointment with a therapist.

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That night, they laid in bed together, Taron’s back to Richard. Rich had hesitated three or four times, aching to reach out and hold T, but wanting to respect his space. Finally, without any intention of doing so, he said softly, “That was a brave thing you did today.”

Taron didn’t roll over, but his voice drifted over. “No, it wasn’t.”

Richard reached out gently and laid a hand on Taron’s back (he jumped, just slightly, and the tiniest lump formed in Rich’s throat). “Do you really not see how brave it was?”

“I just made a phone call, Rich, it wasn’t a big deal, I haven’t done anything yet.” Taron’s voice was still flat, as it had been earlier, and it still chilled Richard, just a bit. He rubbed small circles between Taron’s shoulder blades.

“It’s a huge deal, love. Huge. I promise.”

Taron rolled over and Richard was surprised to see he had tears in his eyes. “Oh, bub,” he said quietly, and stroked Taron’s cheek with one thumb.

“I’m scared,” Taron said softly, and Rich nodded. His heart thumped in his chest, a sign of his own hope, his own fear.

“I know. I know you are. But this is going to be so good for you. And I promise, I will be right here the whole time. If you want me, that is.” Richard hesitated for a brief moment, then opened his arms tentatively. Taron scooted closer to Richard, fitting his body snugly against Richard and allowing Rich’s arms to tighten around him. Rich nearly cried as he buried his face into Taron’s soft hair, continuing to rub his back gently. Over the last few months, Taron had shied away from being touched, as if he was afraid of being comforted, afraid of what it might bring out of him.

As Rich held him in his arms, he felt Taron’s body shaking, ever-so-slightly. Whether it was from tears or from anxiety, he didn’t know, but he was shaking none-the-less. Rich rocked him back and forth, gently. Taron’s voice came then, tiny and sad. “I’m sorry for what I’ve put you through,” he said.

Richard’s answer was firm, immediate, powerful. “I’m always going to be here. There’s not a single thing for you to be sorry about. When I said I loved you, I meant that I loved you...whatever version of you there is, whatever problems either of us might have. Nothing’s ever perfect, love, but if we have each other, we can do it. Whatever it might be.”

Taron didn’t say anything, just buried himself back into Richard. The two stayed like that for a while, both of them thinking about how things were not perfect, how things would hopefully change, how they would both need each other’s strength.

#My fic #richard madden fanfiction #madderton fanfiction #taron egerton fanfiction

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rkiverse · 5 years ago

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otoñal - 1 | jjk

Chapter 1 → next

Pairing | Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre | fluff, angst + professor!jungkook, college!au, and very strong e2l!au

Warnings | for future chapters, there will be explicit language, lots of bantering, and lots of pining :-)

Summary | Of all the women Jeon Jungkook can have, he goes for the ones he can’t. And so when he’s faced with an arranged marriage, his best buddies come to the rescue with a proposition that leaves him with no choice but to go with. Little did he know, said ‘proposition’ has something to do with a student he doesn’t get along with quite well.

→ to get into the mood of this series, i highly suggest listening to this!

Word Count | 1.7K+ words

Jeon Jungkook is everything a mother would ever want for her daughter. He graduated university with nothing but honours and a gpa any student would die for. He's currently pursuing his Masters degree at the young age of 23. He's written three research papers throughout his undergrad, all of which made him fully known and recognized in the field of molecular and cell biology. Jeon Jungkook is the man of every woman's dream, the boyfriend they all dream of showing off, and the husband they dream of marrying.

But of all the women Jeon Jungkook can have, he goes for the ones he can't.

“Don’t you think it’s time for you to start meeting people, son? A business partner of mine has a daughter that we think might match you perfectly.”

Jungkook scoffs. “I’m still young, Dad. I have other things I want to accomplish first. I haven’t even finished my research paper―”

“Your fourth research paper.” His father cuts him off. Jungkook watches his mother place her hand on top of his father’s shoulder to console him. “We’re just worried about your future.”

“Worried about my future or your future?” He snaps. “For the first time in my life, I’m finally doing something I want to do and it has nothing to do with the family business.”

“Jungkook, we’re getting old.” His mother says softly. “We’re not getting any younger. We’ll need someone to run the business when we’re gone. Could you just please, consider taking over the business?”

Jungkook’s face softens. He sighs.

“I’ll think about it.”

"Hey! Stop the car!"

The car halts to a stop. From the driver’s rearview mirror, he could see a woman almost falling off her bike. You use the breaks of your bike to prevent yourself from being fully run over. As you maintain your balance, you carefully place your bike down on the ground and walk around the car to talk to the driver.

You tap on the window. The window rolls down to reveal a handsome guy who looks like he's around your age. He had adorable, doe-eyes and long, curly hair.

Completely taken aback but still quite pissed off, you fold your arms.

"You almost ran me over. Did you not see me through your rearview mirrors? How did you even pass your driving test?"

The driver looks at you apologetically. You furrow your eyebrows as you take a good look of the car. From the looks of it, you could assume three things. One, it’s an expensive model, given the fact that you’ve never seen such a car until now. Two, the car is most likely worth the same amount as the student debt you’re currently swimming in. Three, the driver must be some sort of heir to inherit such an expensive car.

"Sorry, I'm sort of in a rush and I didn't see you in the mirrors. Are you hurt anywhere?"

You scoff and nod at the parking sign. "You're not even allowed to park here."

"Last time I checked," he nods his head at the sign in front of the parking space. "I am allowed to park here."

You glance at the sign that read, professors and researchers only. You purse your lips into a tight line. Impossible.

You scoff. "Right, and the last time I checked, I'm a kinesiology professor."

The driver hops out of his car to get a good look of you. You don't seem to have any injuries. He takes a quick look at your bike to see an indent. He grimaces.

"Look, I don't know who spoiled your coffee this morning, but I really have to get to my lab room. I’ll pay for any damages I’ve made to your bike and I’ll take full responsibility for any injuries you have. Let’s just settle this, alright?”

You roll your eyes. "Fine."

You make your way around the car to pick up your bike. An idea pops into your head and you smirk. As you finally come back around, you reach into your bag for your warm thermos filled with hot, steaming coffee.

"I'm not sure if my coffee was spoiled this morning," you begin, "do you mind checking for me?"

Next thing he knows, his white button-up shirt is soaked with coffee.

"You're going to teach a course for the whole semester?"

Jungkook picks at his food with his chopsticks. Jimin fixes his glasses and stares at the quiet one sitting right across from him.

"Surprised?" Jungkook questions.

"What course are you planning on teaching?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "Immunology."

Jimin clasps his hands together, completely astonished. As he leans back in his chair to look at Jungkook with amazement, Jungkook slowly looks at him with a questioning gaze.

"Wow, and I thought you were already busy doing lab research." Jimin smirks.

“Now you're going to teach a course too? You're definitely going to overwork yourself."

"I have no choice," Jungkook shoves a cherry tomato into his mouth. "It's part of my Masters degree."

Jimin sighs with relief. "I'm glad I went forward with engineering."

Jungkook takes a quick glance at his watch before gathering his things. Jimin watches him amusingly as he finishes his sandwich. Lunch break was almost over and Jungkook had to get back to the lab room.

Jungkook smirks. "Don't miss me too much."

Just as Jungkook heads out of the lunch room, he hears Jimin reply, "I'll try not to!"

Jungkook enters his lab room on time and grabs his lab coat from the rack. Heading to his work station, he switches the light on and takes a closer look at his samples. Right across the room, he could see a familiar figure seated at their work station.

He places a slide with the sample underneath the microscope. As he checks out the sample, he purses his lips into a tight line. "Namjoon, you decided to show up early?"

He could hear Namjoon laugh. "I have a biochemistry lab to instruct at four."

"Undergrad lab?" Jungkook questions and Namjoon hums in reply.

"By the way, Seokjin left a copy of the syllabus for the course you're going to teach. What was it again? Immunology?" Namjoon asks.

Jungkook pries his eyes from the microscope and he locates the three-page syllabus at the corner of his work station. He grabs the syllabus and skims through it. "Yeah, it's an immunology course.”

“When’s the first lecture?”

“Tonight.”

“Now that I think about it, he might be a rich exchange student.”

You stab at your pasta with your fork. Seated right across from you is your classmate slash best friend, Jung Hoseok. You had met Hoseok in your first year of university. He’s one year older than you, but because he took a gap year before going to university, the both of you are in the same studying year.

“Could be,” he shrugs his shoulders. He pulls up a PDF document of the syllabus for an immunology course the both of you are going to take. “The professor posted the syllabus.”

“Already?” You question and he nods in reply. “The class is not until five.”

“You mean the class is not until an hour,” Hoseok corrects you.

The both of you read the syllabus together. You tilt your head in confusion. “It doesn’t seem like a huge workload. Should we be concerned?”

“I’m honestly just taking the course because students from the last semester claimed that it was an easy A.” Hoseok laughs.

“Who’s the professor?” You ask.

Hoseok reads through the syllabus again. “Some guy named Jeon Jungkook.”

“How are his ratings on rate my professor?”

Hoseok starts searching his name on the internet but frowns when he gets nothing. “I got nothing.”

You shrug your shoulders. “He’s probably new.”

Hoseok glances at his watch. “We should probably start heading over to the lecture room before all the freshmen take up all the seats.”

Outside of the lecture room was a line of freshmen students, waiting for the doors to be open. You and Hoseok head towards the end of the line. There was roughly five more minutes to spare before the lecture starts.

“I asked Namjoon if there was anything we needed to note about this class.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Namjoon took immunology?”

“No, he knows the professor.” Hoseok whispers.

Your eyes widen with curiosity. “Like... personally?”

Hoseok nods his head. “They’re research partners.”

The line up of students start moving up as the doors finally open. As everyone starts to pile into the class, you and Hoseok decide to sit three rows near the front.

“Is there any way you could possibly, I don’t know, ask Namjoon to help us pass the course?” You whisper, and Hoseok grins.

The both of you start pulling out your things. You don’t quite notice how the whole class erupts into whispers but when you do, you can’t help but try to find out. From beside you, you could feel Hoseok nudging you.

Standing at the front of the class was your professor. He had his back turned towards the class. He took a piece of chalk and began to write down his name on the chalkboard. You look around the lecture room to see what everyone was whispering about.

“Is there something I should know?” You whisper.

“Did you get a good look of him? He’s really handsome.” Hoseok mumbles.

“I didn’t, I was busy finding my pencil case―”

“Good afternoon, everyone. It’s nice to see you all here on time.”

The both of you cut your conversation short. You sigh, reaching back into your bag to find your pencil case. Hoseok continues to nudge you.

“It’s my first time teaching a class so please bare with me. I hope this will be a great experience for the both of us and I hope we could all get along.”

“____. Dude, just borrow my damn pencil. I need you to look at him, he doesn’t look like a professor―”

“Okay, fine, fine―” You finally look up and you feel your blood run cold.

It was like he sensed your gaze because suddenly, your professor’s eyes met yours and at that moment, you begged the heavens to make you disappear. He smirks, and his gaze stays on you much longer than it should. You’re the first one to look away.

The familiar pair of doe eyes.

His long, curly hair.

His white button-up shirt.

The coffee stain.

“My name is Jeon Jungkook, and I will be your Immunology professor for the semester.”

author’s note | this will be a short series! thank you so much for reading and i hope you guys enjoy this one! let me know what you think, feedback is very much appreciated on this blog! you can hit me up here! as for growing pains, don’t worry, i am still working on it. i will not post growing pains until i am 110% satisfied with it. please enjoy this for the meantime :-)

also i've been getting into figure skating a lot, specifically yuzuru hanyu. when i listened to the track of one of his short programs for this season, otoñal, i was immediately inspired to write this.

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skybiome · 5 years ago

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Left Behind

for @mine-sara-sp‘s shadow au. specifically, the au of the au because we’ve started rabbit holeing

warning: xisuma thanos snaps the shadows

part 2

Murmur wasn’t sure where Mumbo had gone. He wasn’t sure where any of the players had gone. For a week they had said things like "leaving" and "new season".

The shadow wasn't quite sure what that entailed, but about two weeks ago, all of the hermits had gathered around a special nether portal that Xisuma had made. All of them had waved goodbye to the gathered shadows and walked through the portal. Murmur’s summoner was one of the last ones few and told the shadow that he would see him soon.

Murmur was doing his best to keep up hope, but none of the shadows had seen any of the hermits in the full two weeks since they’d left. And a lot had happened without them.

Jigsaw had tried to mess with Apex and gotten himself killed. Apex had then tried to fight Killjoy and gotten killed. Keloid, Avarice, and Paladin had gone through almost everyone’s bases at this point and stolen any riches they could find. Trigger had wired the entirety of the shopping district and Hermitville with redstone traps. Solo had claimed the abandoned hippie compound as his own, and Shadoc was shaking up with Gleam and Clamor.

The shadow that Murmur honestly saw the most of was Admin. With Xisuma gone, Admin was the only one who had any access to commands. Occasionally, the shadow would join Murmur at the foot of the nether portal and mess with console screens.

Admin seemed especially partial to “the rubber ducky method”, as Mumbo has once explained to him. The shadow would explain whatever it was doing to Murmur, in an attempt to work out the kinks in its current project. That project being away to bring back the shadow’s that had been killed.

Two weeks in an Admin still had made zero progress. It had figured out how to change game modes though. The shadow of X could normally be found either at the steps of the season portal or sitting inside the shadow temple trying to bring back the lost shadows.

For the whole two weeks, Murmur had stayed near the portal, rarely venturing out of eyeshot in case one of the hermits came through it. And today seemed to be his lucky day.

Murmur was sitting at the steps of the portal, petting a rabbit he had managed to befriend during the lonely two weeks. Behind him, the season portal made an especially loud noise and the rabbit bolted into the tall grass.

The shadow looked behind him and saw Xisuma walk out of the portal. The helmeted man waved a hand in front of himself and a floating, semi-transparent screen appeared. He typed something into a bar at the bottom and tapped the screen, causing the text to disappear. Admin had once explained that those screens could only be pulled up by an admin.

“Murmur do you know where Shadoc is?” He seemed to be in a hurry. He typed something else into the console, then highlighted and deleted it.

All Murmur could say was, “Gleam.”

X thought for a second and then spoke to himself. “Gleam, that’s Keralis’s.” It looked like Admin got his rubber ducky solution from someone. The admin then looked back at Murmur. “Is he in the new village?”

Murmur nodded.

Xisuma said a quick thanks before lifting off the ground and heading towards New Hermitville. Murmur watched the admin disappear into the distance. He then turned his attention back to trying to find where his bunny friend had gone. Whatever Xisuma was doing, he probably could do anything about it.

A few minutes later Admin landed beside the portal and Murmur pointed him in the direction X had gone.

—

Xisuma touched down in the middle of the village. Almost immediately, Gleam came out of one of the houses and started walking towards the admin.

“Gleam, I know that this is a no-fly zone. Right now, I need to know where Shadoc is.”

Gleam just looked at Xisuma, placed one hand on its hip and held the other out to Xisuma.

X verbally sighed and pulled up the creative inventory. He grabbed a stack of diamond blocks and handed them to the shadow. Gleam’s eyes lit up even brighter than normal and it gladly took that diamonds from Xisuma. It mumbled something about “the iron skeleton” before running towards Hermitland.

The admin was genuinely surprised that the cache in Run hadn’t run dry already. Unless Killshot was restocking it when it got bored. Either way, Xisuma ran to where Bdubs’s iron golem skeleton rested.

It was easy to spot the shadow standing beside the massive skull. Xisuma walked through the grass, making sure that Shadoc heard his approach. It worked and Shadoc turned to look at the admin.

X pulled his helmet off and tucked it under his arm. He came to stand beside the shadow. They stood for a few moments before Shadoc spoke up.

“What brings you to our lovely server?”

Xisuma chuckled slightly at Shadoc’s sarcasm. “We miss you guys.”

“Then you shouldn’t have left.”

“We had to go. We’d already been on this server for far too long.”

“Things were getting unstable?"

Xisuma chuckled, "That's putting it mildly." When changing servers X normally tried to give at least a month's notice. He had been so caught up with all the issues with the shadow update that he had barely been able to give the hermits a week's notice. "We thought that you guys would come with us, that we could resummon you guys in season 7."

Shadoc was quiet for a moment. "What happened when you tried to summon us?"

"Everybody had new shadows."

The shadow made an agreeing noise.

"So are we just getting tossed aside for the newer, shinier versions of us?"

Xisuma turned to look at Shadoc.

“Do you really have that little faith in us?”

Shadoc shrugged.

“You all just seemed so eager to leave us behind.”

“Because we planned on everyone coming with us. A day’s barely gone by without Mumbo, Doc, Joe, or someone else asking if I’d finished the temple. And now that it is, I can bring all of you to the new server…”

“Why am I sensing a but after that?”

“In order to get the shadows to the new server, you need to die here first."

Shadoc didn’t say anything. When Xisuma finally turned to look at him, the shadow was sitting on the ground. He was messing with a flower and staring past it. Xisuma lowered himself to the ground beside Shadoc and set his helmet on the side of him. For a moment, he reached to set a hand on the shadow’s shoulder, but thought better and retracted it.

“I have a way to kill everyone at once.” The admin grimaced at the morbidity of the sentence. “Then you can be resummoned in the new season.”

The shadow picked the flower from the ground.

“Will it hurt?”

“For a split second.” Xisuma held up a hand and snapped. “Then you’ll be in the new season.”

“How do you know it will work? That we won’t be gone forever?”

“Because there’s already a few shadows from here that are there already. Even when I’m not in the server, I can see the console logs.” Xisuma waved a hand in front of him and pulled up one of the logs.

“Since all of the hermits have left, not much goes on in the console, but with the shadows being special mobs, the console tells when they die.”

The admin pointed towards a specific line of text. Shadoc leaned in closer to read it.

{Grian’s shadow was killed by Biffa2001’s shadow}

X scrolled through the logs some more and pointed to another line of text.

{Biffa2001’s shadow was killed by joehillssays’s shadow}

Xisuma swiped a hand through the floating screen, collapsing it so that only the bar to enter commands appeared.

“They’re already causing chaos with the new shadows. And the friendly shadows can’t wait to meet everyone.” Xisuma was mostly speaking about Joyful, but he was certain that the more shadows would at least be curious about the season 6 shadows.

“How would you…” Shadoc couldn’t bring himself to say “kill me”, so he simply lifted a hand and mimicked Xisuma’s snapping motion.

A sad smile appeared on Xisuma’s face. He turned back to the console window and pasted in a command.

/kill @e[type=Shadow]

“This will kill all shadows on the server at once.”

“And you’re sure that everyone will be on the new server?”

“I’m certain.” Xisuma didn’t like how unperturbed Shadoc seemed about everything and he knew it was something that he should be worried about, but right now, he just needed to get this done.

Xisuma reached forwards to enter the command. Shadoc watched the entire motion. X was centimeters from tapping to screen to enter the command when Admin crashed into the ground. He righted himself and turned towards his summoner.

“XISUMA! WHERE’S MY BROTHER?” He sounded pissed.

Shadoc was pulled from his daze at the interjection but Xisuma didn’t pause. He reached forward and entered the command.

In the corner of his eye, Xisuma saw his shadow freeze for a moment, before collapsing and leaving behind a very familiar inventory. X’s attention was focused on the shadow beside him though.

Shadoc was still holding the flower when he disappeared into a fuzz of yellow particles. Xisuma took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. The difficult part was done. Now he just needed to go back to season 7 and tell everyone they could resummon their shadows. But there was something he wanted to do first.

Xisuma put his helmet back on and carefully sifted through the contents of Shadoc’s inventory and held onto two things: the flower and his trident. The admin flew back to the portal and touched down in the field surrounding it. A little way in the distance, he could see a pile of items that he assumed had belonged to Murmur.

In front of the steps to the portal, Xisuma placed a pillar of spruce planks three blocks tall. He set an item frame on the top block. Inside of it he put Shadoc’s trident and was sure to align it vertically.

On the second block be placed an oak sign and wrote a brief message on it.

“A toast to this season and many more. Family is always stronger together.”

In front of the lowest block, X planted the flower.

He stepped back from the small monument and looked at it for a moment. Then, he climbed the steps to stand beside the lit portal. The admin took off his helmet to look at the server unobstructed. The portal had been built within earshot of Hermitville and Xisuma could see everything that had been built in the new area.

The build off was easily seen, towering above the tree line. Wel’s mansion and the church were also visible. Further off in the distance, X could see the edges of Hermitland. He could also see the faint silhouettes of the Area 77 planes through the clouds.

The admin rested his hand on the obsidian frame for a moment before stepping it to the shimmering portal.

#i have so many ideas and so few words #im going to combust #shadow people au #xisuma #my writing

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