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fiveisnumber1 · 4 years ago

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Timeless - Five Hargreeves x Reader

Main story parts:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29

_________________________

Pt 29 - Sir Reginald and the Kids of the Round Table

You watched as Five disappeared and Luther walked out of the building with Diego trailing behind. You continued to face towards the downstairs area as you mumbled,

"Great."

From behind you, you can hear Allison question curiously,

"Number Zero, huh?" Allison

You turn around to look at her, annoyance written all over your face. You didn't want to deal with the conversation like this, let alone at all.

"It wasn't my choice. You think I wanted to be reduced to a number? I didn't care in the slightest that zero came before one." You replied, "I'm a person with a name, not an experiment and I made sure he followed that."

"So you are dear old daddy's favorite. Y'know I always kind of figured so. Never understood why though since you're the exact opposite of what he wanted his children to be." Klaus says with a drunken laugh

"Hell if I know. Our relationship has always been...complex." You state as you cross your arms over your chest

You couldn't quite grasp if they were just curious about the revelation or if they were actually upset by finding out their dad had called you number zero. Even if Luther was done with his dad, he still seemed to care a lot about it and unfortunately, they all still had their issues with their father so you had no clue how they might feel. You hoped it was just curiosity because you had never wanted to be zero and you really couldn't think of a circumstance in which you would accept such a name. It would have to be the only option left to agree to such a thing but Five and you all were going to stop the apocalypse so it wouldn't be a worry. You stand around awkwardly as a silence looms in the air over those of you who were still in the apartment. Wondering if and when the rest of them would come back, you all waited for a bit. After a few moments though Klaus broke the silence and said,

"This had been nice but you know, I could really go for some tacos right now. Allison?"

"Tacos? Shouldn't we wait?" Allison questioned

"You know those guys. I mean, it could take forever for them to bro it out. Vanya, tacos?" Klaus replies

"Is there any way that tacos are gonna cause the end of the world?" Vanya asks

"I mean, there's only one way to find out, right?" Klaus remarks

"Sure is." Allison chimes

"Let's go!" Klaus exclaims

"Where are you guys going? We need to figure out how to stop the...apocalypse" You tried to exclaim but it was no use

You stood at the top of the balcony as you watched them leave. You were starting to understand how Five felt dealing with his siblings. From behind you, you hear a voice say,

"I've missed you all...so much."

Ben.

"If it means anything, I missed you too." You state as you turn back around looking in Ben's direction

He turns his head to face you and replies,

"It does."

He looked at you and you cocked your head to the side slightly, intrigued at the sight before you. You realized what had felt off about him earlier. You hadn't quite noticed it because when he sat on the TV stand he was so far away but with him up close you realized, you could see him. Clearly. Before when you saw him he was more so just a giant blob of moving particles. Sometimes you could make out a head or arms but it was like static on a TV, no picture was clearly there. But now everything was so defined. It was as if the static had cleared and now you could see him in high definition. You could see his hair, his face, actual appendages like hands and fingers, and...ghost clothes? The point was he looked more like a person. He was still just a bunch of disturbed molecules but now he looked real. All that visualization practice with Charlie finally paid off. Slowly, you approached the seat he was sitting in and leaned down so you were face to face with him. Ben looked back at you confused. You were so close and he didn't know what was going on.

"Are you okay?" Ben asks concerned

You pull back and stand up straight.

"Stand up, Ben." You command

"What?" Ben questions

"Stand up."

Ben hesitantly stands up. You had never been so demanding with him before and he was highly confused about why you were so adamant about him stand up. He looks at you silently as you tell him,

"Lift your arms up, like this." You demonstrate to Ben

"T-pose!" Charlie exclaims

"Correct, but not in this instance." You say turning your attention to Charlie before turning back to Ben "Just trust me."

Ben looked at you and although he was confused there was a genuine look in your eyes. Unlike his siblings, you were trustworthy, you had never done him wrong. Slowly, Ben raised his arms like you had instructed before he got his arms up fully you wrapped your arms around his torso. You were hugging him. It wasn't a perfect hug because he wasn't solid, and if you held him too tight your arms would go through him, but you could feel the barrier of molecules where his back was and tried to balance your arms there. It took a second for Ben to register what was going on but once he did he carefully wrapped his arms back around you. This was the first hug he had gotten in years. He couldn't remember the last time someone held him but at this moment he forgot that he was a ghost and for the first time in years he felt like a person. Ben leaned more into the hug as he took in every second of it. He had wanted this for so long. He tried to wrap his arms around you tighter to bring you, the only other person who could see him, closer. But as he did so his arms went through you and he remembered a glaring fact.

He was still dead.

Although he was disappointed by the reality of his existence and the façade of normalcy he felt a moment ago, he held on anyway. With the way things were going he didn't know if he'd get this ever again. After a bit, you pulled away and shot him a smile. You wondered if Klaus was kind to his brother with no real autonomy but you also hoped that Ben was kind to his evidently struggling sibling. You looked around the place and saw that no one had returned as of yet.

"Hmm. Five would've been back by now." You comment

"Unless he ran off to do something," Charlie retorts

"Good point. I'm going to go take a look around outside real quick." You state before turning to Charlie "Charlie talk to Ben while I'm gone."

"Where is he? I can't see him like you can." Charlie asks

You use your arms to gesture to the space before you where Ben was standing. Charlie approaches albeit confused but tries his best to stand in front of him. With that, you start to walk away to head outside to look for Five but as you do Charlie calls out,

"Wait! He can't reply. What do I talk about?"

"I don't know, Russian Literature?" You shoot back

"That's a big no-no in my house. Y'know with my dad working for the government and all."

"Right. 1960s anti-Russian sentiment. Uh, just talk about something he can relate to then." You reply as you walk away

Charlie turns to Ben and the last thing you can hear is him asking,

"Do you want to hear about my shitty dad?"

With that, you walk out to try and find Five but he would be nowhere to be found. After seeing Lila on the roof he immediately started to chase after her. One, because he absolutely despised her and wanted her dead but also because he didn't want her anywhere near you or his family. If he played along with her little chase game he could get her further from you and his siblings. Five follows close behind as Lila continues to run, leading him away from the main part of town towards the industrial sector. Five keeps his distance as he follows her to what looks like an abandoned paint warehouse. He hides behind a wall as he sees her grab a small plank of wood and smash open the window of a door, letting herself into the building. Cautiously, he trails behind her. Looking into the building he makes sure the coast is clear before spatial jumping behind Lila. Lila turns on her heel to look at Five. He shoves his hands into his pockets and with a sarcastic smirk on his face he questions,

"What's your game, crazy lady?"

"Who cares? You said if you saw me again, you'd kill me." Lila comments

"Oh, I remember." Five states

"Well, come on, big talker. Let's get this done." Lila taunts

"All right." Five replies

Spatial jumping Five attempts to attack her from behind but somehow Lila anticipates his movement and roundhouse kicks him in the jaw knocking him backward. Five grabs his jaw and attempts to get up while Lila runs away. Five chases her down a corridor of the abandoned warehouse, spatial jumping in front of her stopping her in her tracks. He then rushes her, jumping into the air to kick her but she leans back and dodges his attack. Landing on his feet Five immediately spins backward to kick her and lands a hit on her jaw. The two of them go blow of blow landing some hits on each other and missing others. Taking a few steps back Lila jumps over a large piece of concrete and Five follows. Looking towards where she should be Five finds nothing. He stops in his tracks but then hears,

"I'm waiting."

Five looks over to where the voice came from and there across the room stood Lila. He looked at her confused. How did she get over there so quickly? That didn't matter. Five jumped over to where she would be but once again she was nowhere to be found.

"Fed up yet, Five?" Lila mocks

Five turned to where the voice came from and there she was standing across the room again. Five stopped for longer and stared in her direction. The confusion and frustration of this situation built up inside of him. Looking around Five finds a pipe on the ground. Picking it up he spatial jumps over to where Lila was standing but instead of hitting her, he hits an electrical box. Turning around he sees her behind him and as she lifts one of her legs up to kick him he sweeps the other one out from under her making her fall to her back on the ground. Five then step on her neck keeping her in place. Through a choked voice Lila comments,

"You're better than I thought."

"And you are entirely average." Five belittles before calling "You can come out now."

Five can hear the familiar clacking of heels on the floor behind him. The Handler.

"Well done. You figured it out." The Handler says

"Well, it wasn't very hard. She fights like every one of you Commission drones." Five retorts, his focus still on keeping Lila down

"Hmm. No matter, here we are. Together again. I've gotta ask...did you miss me, you little shit?" The Handler questions

Five looks at her. His expression filled with subdued anger. There's a silence in the room except for the distorted laughter of Lila from the floor.

"You've got a good nose." The Handler comments

"You know, planting her in a psych ward, taking advantage of my simpleton brother, that was smart." Five replies sarcastically as he presses his foot down harder on Lila's throat causing her to struggle

"Well, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." The Handler states as she looks down at Lila

Five's head whips towards the Handler.

"She's your..." Five starts to question

"Daughter. Yes. And she's my only one, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't crush her windpipe." The Handler answers

Lila continues to struggle but Five reluctantly lifts his foot off her throat letting her go free. She gasps for air as she stands up and makes her way to her mother's side. She then slowly approaches Five getting in his face and states,

"I am so going to enjoy killing you someday."

"Lila, darling, would you give us a minute, please?" The Handler requests

"Yes, the grown-ups need to talk." Five adds with a cocky smile

Lila looks to her mother in hopes that she changes her mind but to no avail. Lila rolls her eyes and walks away to the other side of the room annoyed, angrily flipping a piece of metal so that it clatters to the ground. When Lila is far enough away Five takes a step closer to the Handler and in a low voice asks,

"What is it you want?"

"Do you like jazz, Five?" The Handler asks back

"I'd rather lick a cheese grater." Five retorts

"Aww. Jazz is like a beautiful woman. Complex, emotional, hard to please. She doesn't just give it to you...she makes you work for it." The Handler explains as she walks around the room

Five places his hands in his pockets and turns on his heel to face her. Keeping his distance he replies,

"I have no experience with the type of woman you're talking about so I'm really hoping that you're going somewhere with this analogy."

The Handler walks back over to him and with a smile adds,

"Under my leadership, the Commission would sound more like...jazz."

"And what about the board of directors?" Five questions critically getting up in her face

"Well, that's where you come in." The Handler replies tapping his nose with her pointer finger

Five takes a step back away from her and cocks his head to the side. In a firm tone, he states,

"Nope. No, it isn't."

The Handler walks around Five to the space behind him and elaborates,

"In exchange for the assassination of the board, I'm willing to get you, your family, and that girlfriend you love so dearly out of this timeline and back to 2019 where you belong."

"And what about World War III that's due to kick off in just a few days?" Five inquires turning to look at her

"Once you, your girlfriend, and your siblings are gone, that goes away."

"And the apocalypse when we get back to 2019?"

"That too."

Five leans in looking at her critically. The cynic in him was screaming about the nonchalant nature of her statements. This was a woman who would do anything for power so Five knew there was some type of plan she had in her head. In a lowered voice Five angrily criticizes,

"I distinctly remember you telling me that that apocalypse had to happen, that it was supposed to happen."

The Handler walks around Five once more so she is directly behind him. As she walks she explains,

"Back then I was toeing the company line, but once I'm in charge..."

The Handler then presses herself up against Five's back leans in closer to his ear. Five didn't like how close she was and tensed up as he felt her against him.

We can riff." The Handler whispered in his ear

Five took a step forward putting a small amount of distance between the two as he stated,

"Jazz."

"Exactly." The Handler replies as she walks in front of him again

Five turns and walks away from her scratching the back of his neck. Taking a breath he turns back around to face her, a sizable distance now between them. Looking at the Handler, Five questions,

"What about the board of directors, hmm? I mean, nobody knows who they are."

"Correct. But once every fiscal quarter, they get together for a board meeting."

"Where?" Five asks looking at her curiously

"The question is when. They meet somewhere in the timeline but never in the same place twice. The exact location and date of these board meetings is the most closely-guarded secret in the Commission."

Five looks around, an unsurprised smirk appearing across his face. He turns away for a second as he comments,

"But you know where it's gonna be, don't you?"

"Would I be any good at what I do if I didn't? Listen Five, don't think about it as killing the board for me, think about it as getting to live out the rest of your newfound life with (Y/N)."

With the sound of your name leaving her mouth and hitting his ears he quickly turns on his heel to face her. A wave of adrenaline and anger coursed through his veins as he flashed closer to her. He stared her down with malicious intent as he demanded,

"How do you know her name."

"Oh calm down Five. I work for the commission how could I not? Truly, your love story is one for the ages, don't you think?" The Handler remarks in a cheery yet malevolent tone

She walks towards him that facade of kindness and charity not fooling him in the slightest. As she walks around him she details in that false-kind tone,

"Two best friends fall in love at a young age before being separated for years on end. You witness her death and swear to go back and prevent it with only some book and a necklace to remember her by. How sweet."

As she comes back to stand directly in front of him she comments,

"I bet you're wearing that necklace right now, aren't you?"

Indeed he was. Hiding under the shirt his academy uniform was the locket you had given him all those years ago. Unconsciously, when she mentioned it he brought his hand up to cover where it rested as if trying to protect it from her. Trying to protect you from her. Five lets out an angered huff before commanding firmly,

"You leave her out of this. Whatever game you're trying to play is between you and me."

"Fine. But remember, doomsday's right around the corner, and the way things are going, I'm your only option to save her."

Five takes a step towards her and looks her dead in the eyes.

"Not yet you aren't."

And without another word, he flashes away. He was going to get you and his family out of here and he was going to do it without her help.

You on the other hand had gone outside to look for him but he was nowhere to be found. As you turned and walked back towards Elliott's place you mumbled to yourself,

"Hopefully it doesn't take him four years to get back."

Teleporting yourself inside the building you can hear Charlie say,

"And then when I was ten my mom died and my dad hired a nanny to take care of me instead of you know doing it himself. Because he sucks."

"I wish you could hear me because you are so right!" You can hear Ben yell back

You smirk a little at two of your friends hanging out and bonding over shitty dads. You still couldn't relate but it was funny to hear them so passionate about it. Transporting yourself upstairs you tell the two of them,

"Can't find him."

"Well, the good news is he's like a boomerang. He always comes back." Charlie replies cheerfully before adding "I don't blame him though. That family meeting was shit."

"He has a point. It was so bad." Ben comments

You plop down on the couch across from the two of them and ask aloud,

"When was the last time we actually had a good family gathering?"

"Our 13th birthday party," Ben answers just a little too fast

He wasn't wrong though. Granted, you had never been to a family gathering again until Reginald's funeral but from that experience, you were sure that there were probably plenty of awful gatherings before as well.

"I guess it was better than it could've gone though. It was mainly a lot of arguing and only one murder attempt this time." You comment

"You base how well a gathering goes on how many attempted murders there are?" Charlie questions

"Partially," you answer

"I say this with the utmost respect but y'all are fucked up." Charlie states

"Yeah. I know." You reply nodding your head

You kick your feet up on the coffee table trying to find some type of relaxation after all of the mess that had occurred. It had felt like a week's worth of activities was shoved into less than 24 hours. If only you could put a stop to this whole apocalypse mess. You lean back more on the couch and as you do so Ben asks,

"So you've been living with my dad in this time?"

"Yup. I didn't choose it though, it was more of just a domino effect of events. Dropped in the alley, found by mom, who was an actual person in the '60s surprisingly, we met your dad, human mom adopted me, human mom started dating your dad, and then we just permanently moved in with him." You explain "But it's alright, I typically just hang out with Charlie and we avoid people most of the time so it's been fine. Right, Charlie?"

"It's decent," Charlie says with a shit-eating grin

Ben gets a laugh from Charlie's impersonal response and you roll your eyes.

"Okay, wow." you respond sarcastically before turning to Ben and asking "What have you been up to Ben?"

"Reluctantly following Klaus and his cult around for the past 3 years because I had nowhere else to go."

"You know I'm both surprised and not surprised that Klaus started a cult." You respond

"From what you told me it seems pretty on-brand for him (Y/N)," Charlie says

"Well, he rolled the highest charisma stat of the family." You responded

"Huh?" Ben questions

"Don't worry about it. It's not important. Just an old D&D reference that my friends would get." You reply to him, your voice dropping off

You missed your friends. You missed a lot of things from 2019 but the experiences and memories with them are what you missed most of all. You loved being with Charlie and you wouldn't trade his friendship for anything but it was the little things like weekly D&D or going out and wrecking criminals or Wii Just Dance competitions that you wished you had back. You had to get out of this timeline at some point so you hoped you'd see them again.

"So where have you been staying now since you've been back in Dallas, Ben?" Charlie questions somehow forgetting he can't hear the response

"The cult has a sprawling estate in the more affluential part of Dallas. It's been pretty abandoned but we're all back now." Ben answers also forgetting that Charlie can't hear him

Charlie and Ben stare at each other in silence waiting for someone to say something. You snap out of your thoughts and burst out laughing realize what was going on. It was even funnier because while you could see Ben looking back you knew anyone else viewing this would see Charlie just staring off in the distance. Through your laughs, you chime in,

"Charlie, you can't hear him, remember?"

"Oh right," Charlie replies with a small chuckle

"Anyway, he's living in the abandoned estate near our houses. I guess it's not so abandoned anymore though since the whole cult is back."

"Oh, so that's whose cult lived by us. Small world I guess." Charlie says

"It must be interesting living with a cult." You remark

"It's a mess," Ben replies

"A mess? It can't be that bad can it?" You question

"You should stop by and visit tomorrow. See it for yourself." Ben suggests

"Well, we'll have to see where the day goes tomorrow given the...everything." You explain gesturing vaguely

You were about to say more when you suddenly felt a quick flash of disturbance. It was a familiar feeling and knew exactly what it correlated to. Turning your attention towards the downstairs portion of the building you called out,

"Five, is that you?"

After an unfortunate encounter with the Handler, Five was in a poor mood, to say the least. But there was just something about the sound of you calling his name that made him feel a bit better. A small smile came to his face and he spatial jumped once more up to the top part of Elliott's building. He saw you sitting on the couch and asked,

"How did you know I was back?"

"I can feel the disturbance of your spatial jumps. Feels like the back of my neck got flicked."

"Ah, I see." He replies

He then walks over to the couch you were on and sits right down next to you. Wrapping one arm around your shoulders he pulls you closer and places a soft kiss on your temple making you blush.

"Where did you go, Five?" Charlie questions

"Unfortunately, I had a run-in with Diego's crazy girlfriend and found out her mom is my former boss." Five explains

"So she wasn't just some random girl. She was a plant." You comment

"Yes. She was trying to get to me the whole time." Five adds

"Of course Diego would be the type to fall for a plant," Ben said sarcastically

You rolled your eyes but he had a point. You loved your brother dearly and in many cases, he was very tactile and smart but when it came to women and his emotions he had some room for improvement. As you all sat there you could hear the phone ring from the other room. Charlie promptly gets up and goes to answer it.

"Hello? Oh hi. Yes, I can put her on the phone." Charlie says before calling a bit louder "(Y/N) it's for you."

You were curious as to who could be calling you so you got up from the couch and headed into the kitchen with Five following along behind you. Taking the phone from Charlie you place it to your ear and say,

"Hello?"

"Oh, (Y/N) sweetie it's so good to hear your voice! Charlie had called last night but said that you had gone to bed already. I was so worried about you. Are you doing alright?" Your mom asked

"Yes mom, I'm doing alright," you responded

"Oh thank goodness. Listen, Charlie's dad said it's safe for the two of you to come back home." Your mom added

"Oh, okay. I'll let him know. We'll be back soon." You reply

"Okay, sweetie! I love you!"

"Love you too Mom."

You hang up the phone and turn around to look at the group of people behind you. Focusing your attention on Charlie you tell him,

"Your dad said it's safe for us to go back home."

"Oh." Charlie says "That's unfortunate."

"Very." You reply with a sigh

Everything was moving so fast. You had just gotten your boyfriend and you barely got to spend any time with him. Sure you two had a few sweet moments together but with the looming threat of the apocalypse again you didn't know how many more you'd get and when. Your poor mother though. She probably stayed up all night worried about you. You didn't want to prolong that worry because it wasn't something she deserved. You turn your attention to Five and place a hand on his cheek.

"I swear we never get enough time together," you say as you look into his eyes

Five wrap his arms lightly around your waist and looks at you with love in his eyes.

"No time is ever enough time with you, ma chérie."

"Perhaps you're right," you comment

"I know I am." He jokes

You roll your eyes at him. Even in the most chaotic of times he always managed to make your heart skip a beat.

"Well, I better head out then." You state

Five leans down and places a kiss on the top of your head, holding you closer in the process. Oh, how you loved this boy. Tilting your head up you placed a peck to his cheek before slowly leaving his embrace. Gently, you pull your hand back from his cheek and see how he leans into your touch. You smile at him,

"I'll see you soon my love."

"As soon as can be." He replies

You and Charlie then started to make your way out of the building with Five following the two of you until you reached the door. You looked back at him one more time before finally exiting and making your way to Charlie's car. The two of you get in the car and Charlie drives the way back to your house. When you arrive, you both exit the car and head inside. You had barely stepped through the door when your mom threw her arms around you pulling you into a tight hug in the same manner as when you came home after your car being shot up only a few days before. Your poor mother having to deal with so much stress about your safety in only a few days' time. You wouldn't wish this on anyone.

"I'm so glad you're okay, sweetie." Your mom exclaims

"Me too, mom." You reply

From the corner of your eye, you can see Reginald approaching you all. You let go of your mother and turn to face him along with Charlie and your mom.

"I see that you managed to bring her back safely," Reginald says to Charlie

"Yes. Not a scratch on her, sir." Charlie states

"Very well. It's pleasant to have you back at the manor (Y/N)." Reginald states

"Thank you." You reply flatly

You all stood there for a second but you didn't want to be there much longer. Trying to make a quick getaway you start to walk towards the stairs but look back at the others saying,

"I think I'm going to change out of this gala dress and into something more comfortable so I can relax after such a day of tension. How about you go home and do the same Charlie and then we can all have dinner together."

"Sure, that sounds like a good idea. I'll be back." He says before leaving the manor and heading to his car

You continue to walk while looking towards your mom and Reginald and accidentally bump into Marie causing her to drop a piece of paper on the ground. Bending over you pick up the paper as she profusely apologizes to you. Quickly, you skim over the paper and see what it reads.

From the Office of Sir Reginald Hargreeves

To My Pursuers:

I, Reginald Hargreeves, request the pleasure of your company for a light supper on the 20th of November, 1963, at half-past seven o'clock.

1624 Magnolia Street Dallas, Texas

You knew that location and you had a strong hunch of who those pursuers that were being addressed were. Looks like you knew what you were doing at 7:30 pm tomorrow. You hand the letter back to Marie and accept her apologies saying that you were not paying attention to where you were going before heading upstairs to your room. The rest of the night went on without a hitch and as usual, Charlie slept over for the night. The two of you stayed up late as you discussed the events that had occurred in prior days and how the dots were starting to connect together. You also detailed the letter you had read and your plans for the following day.

That was not a smart decision though as it led to both of you sleeping in significantly late. By the time you two woke up, it was already the afternoon. Trying to make sure you were able to do everything you wanted to do, you both quickly got ready ate a small meal, and sped off down the road towards Klaus' cult estate. Both of you had wanted to see it in person and wondered what went on behind the closed doors. And you were already invited by Ben to see the chaos of cult life so why would you turn such an invitation down. As you approached the driveway to the estate Charlie slowed the car down. Turning into the driveway Charlie carefully approached the building. Once you were close enough to it you stepped out of the car and walked the short distance to the entrance as you did so a woman in loose blue clothing and a flower crown noticed the two of you and smiles.

"Hello, friends! Are you here to meet the prophet?" She asks in a kind voice

"Why yes, we are." Charlie states

"A spirit of your prophet invited us to come today." You add

"How lovely! Please follow me." She instructs

The two of you look at each other before following the woman inside the house and down a corridor. As you follow her you see lines of people kneeling on opposite sides of a door. Some are playing tambourines while others hold baskets in their hands. Suddenly, the doors to a room open and you watch as Klaus walks out of the room in only his underwear. That was not a sight you ever thought you would have to see and yet, you did. The followers who held baskets in their hands threw flower petals at Klaus. Whatever was going on had barely even started but you could see why Ben had called it a mess. You and Charlie approach a little closer and see a large room filled with people in blue clothing sitting on the floor. You and Charlie give each other a side-eye glance before looking back at the scene before you;

"Okay, thank you. Sit down. My name is Klaus, and I am an alcoho...Sorry, that's the wrong meeting." Klaus starts

Klaus lets out a nervous laugh but the group is unfazed. You watch as the followers look on with eager eyes as they listen to every word he says. Realizing he needs to say something Klaus continues,

"Uh, in my walkabout, I did a lot of thinking, searching, ruminating, and there's something that I'd like to share with all of you. I'm a fraud. Yeah, I- I've been lying to all of you from- from the start, and, uh...I'm a complete and total fraud." You can see Klaus look over to Ben after finishing his statement and Ben giving him back an acceptable nod. The crowd murmurs to themselves but not long after one man stands up from the crowd and looks around at the others. "Me too. I- I'm a fraud too." The man says

"What is going on?" Charlie whispers to you

"I don't know." you reply quietly

The man approaches Klaus and knees before him continuing,

"I'm the worst kind of fraud. I- I am a fraud to myself. But your scriptures say, As long as I know how to love I know I'll stay alive."

"He used the song I Will Survive by Gloria Gaynor as his "scripture" to these people. I bet he did, I bet he stole it." You comment quietly to Charlie

Right after you finish your statement to Charlie, Klaus replies to the man, "But that's not scripture. Okay? That's a song lyric by disco diva Gloria Gaynor, and I stole it!"

"Called it." You state

The crowd murmurs the name Gloria Gaynor to each other in confusion as they wait for Klaus to speak more. Klaus didn't know what to say though and you could see him cracking under the pressure of trying to admit his falseness to the group.

"Look, eh, you guys don't wanna follow me. I can't lead you anywhere. I'm not a guru, I'm not a messiah, I'm...I'm a...fraud! And I don't know what I'm doing up here. I- I don't. I'm just, you know...making it up as we...You- You people should all just...go back to your families." Klaus rambles

The man who had kneeled in front of Klaus before could be heard crying. Letting out a sigh Klaus approaches the man, places his hands on the back of his neck so he will look at him, and in a hushed tone states, "Keechie...Stop, stop, stop, stop. Look, look, look at me in the face, okay? It's okay. It's okay, though. Listen. Everything is gonna be okay. Okay?" "I understand." The man replies

"Good," Klaus says "When we admit our own fraudulence, only then can we experience true humility." The man continues "No, no, no, no, no, no! That's not what I meant. It's not what I meant." Klaus exclaims turning to the group

All the members one by one stand up exclaiming aloud how they are a fraud. You look across the hall and see Ben there standing with a shocked face. As Klaus climbs up the few stairs to stand in the archway again the lady who had brought you into the house approaches Klaus and says,

"Prophet, two visitors have come to see you."

Klaus takes a look in your direction and sees you and Charlie standing there. Opening his arms wide he exclaims with a smile on his face,

"(Y/N)! Come here!"

Reluctantly, you approach him and bring him into a hug. It was quite awkward given the fact he was only in his underwear but yet it was kind of sweet. Even with all the stuff he had done and was currently doing he was still the same Klaus you knew as a kid. You could hear as the crowd of followers went from exclaiming their fraudulence to quiet whispers.

"What brings you and your friend here (Y/N)?" Klaus asks

"We were invited by a spirit of yours," you answer

Klaus takes a look over towards Ben before replying,

"Must've been the pushy and annoying spirit that dragged you here."

"Prophet, who is this (Y/N)?" Keechie asks

"Ah. (Y/N) is my...soul sister..." Klaus lies "We have walked similar paths in life, seen similar things, and although we were physically separated as children our souls are intertwined."

There are oohs and ahhs that come from the crowd of people in the room before you and from behind you, you can hear Charlie trying to stifle laughter. Turning to look at him you shoot him a death glare. This was not entertaining.

"Oh soul sister to the prophet, do you have wisdom of your own that you can bless upon us?" Keechie asks as he kneels before you

"Oh jeez..." You mumble pinching the bridge of your nose "what did I get myself into?"

"Klaus, don't put (Y/N) through this." Ben comments from the sidelines

"Uh..." Klaus says "Hey soul sister, do you have anything for them?"

"Oh my god, Klaus," Ben complains

From behind you, you can hear Charlie start a slow chant,

"Knowledge. Knowledge. Knowledge."

You whip towards him and exclaim,

"Charlie!"

He does not stop though, instead, he just continues to chant and encourages the followers until all of them are chanting,

"Knowledge! Knowledge! Knowledge!"

"Fine!" You exclaim

All the people in the room quiet down and look at you intently. Taking a deep breath you wrack your brain for something to tell them. Completely bullshitting this whole ordeal you take a page out of Klaus' playbook and start to quote a song lyric,

"If you're lost...you can look, and you will find me. Time after time. If you fall...I will catch you. I'll be waiting. Time after time."

You then turn to Klaus and simultaneously you both repeat,

"Time after time."

When the two of you finish there is an uproar of cheers. People excitedly repeat the "knowledge" that you had blessed them with to themselves and to each other. These people were so brainwashed, it was ridiculous.

"What the fuck..." You say to yourself

"Yeah, I know." Klaus responds "How about I go put on some clothes and give the two of you a tour?"

"Why not? I guess..." You reply confused

Klaus goes and puts clothes on but as he does so many of the members of his cult come up and bow before you or touch you. it was odd, to say the least, and you definitely wanted it to stop. When Klaus came back out with his clothes he told the members to disperse as he took you by one arm and Charlie by the other showing you around. the estate was nice, but every time you ran into a member they'd look at you and Klaus in odd reverence. After what felt like forever you and Charlie decided that it was time to leave and never come back. You said goodbye to Klaus and waved goodbye to Ben, although you were sure that you would see them quite soon. Making your way back to Charlie's car you saw another person walking up towards the estate building. You can see Charlie's expression change from neutral to surprised.

"Hey, Dave." Charlie greets slightly confused

"Oh hey, Charlie. How are ya?" Dave asks

"Doing pretty well. How about you? The hardware business treating you well?" Charlie replies

"It's going well. I'm actually joining the army. Shipping off in about a week." Dave answers "But who's this Charlie? Your girlfriend?"

"Oh no she has a boyfriend already. This is my close friend (Y/N). (Y/N) this is Dave, we went to high school together but he was a grade above me. He was one of the only people who was nice to me." Charlie says

You extend your hand out to shake his and he grabs your hand shaking back.

"I haven't seen you around before are you new to the area?" Dave asks

"Oh, I dropped into Dallas about four years ago. I live with my mom and her partner down the road." You explain

"Well, it's very nice to meet you (Y/N). It's unfortunate we didn't get to meet sooner, but hopefully when I get back you, Charlie, and I can all talk and get some floats down at the diner." Dave says in a cheerful tone

This poor boy. He's so sweet and innocent. You just met him and you wished you could stop him from going off to war. Especially since he was probably head to Vietnam. It was an unnecessary war. All of the proxy wars were bullshit but you couldn't do much about it. You put on a smile as best as you can.

"That sounds lovely. I look forward to it." you comment "But we must get going, I have a family dinner to attend to, and I really don't want to be late."

"Alright, well it was nice to see you Charlie, and nice to meet you (Y/N). Hope you have a nice dinner." Dave says

"Thank you." You respond

"Thanks, Dave," Charlie adds

With that Dave heads off towards the mansion and you and Charlie head towards the car. When the two of you get into the car Charlie comments sarcastically,

"Oh, I dropped into Dallas about four years ago. Real clever."

"Shut up and drive." you retort

Charlie rolls his eyes with a smirk on his face and pulls out of the driveway heading towards the hotel where the dinner would be taking place.

While you were headed towards the Southland Life hotel, Five had already arrived. He looked down at his invitation to make sure he was at the right place but once he had done so he headed towards the entrance and inside the building. Making his way up an ornate staircase he looked around a bit before finding the elevator. Calling the elevator, the doors opened and Five stepped inside. He looked at the panel of floor buttons before pressing one of them and waited for the doors to close. None of his siblings had shown up. He was going to have to deal with the old man alone. He was prepared to do so...somewhat. But still he had hoped for him and his siblings to go together to confront him. Five stared off as the elevators started to close trying to build up thr confidence to face his father after all these years. He wished you could've been there by his side, but you had no reason to be invited, you weren't a "pursuer". Right as the door were about to shut and hand comes in to bring the doors back open.

"Wait up." Diego says entering the elevator "Hold it." Allison adds "Hey, everyone." Klaus greets drunkenly

Vanya enters the elevator silently as Luther follows quietly saying, "Excuse me."

Five looks around at his siblings. They all came. Five faces forward and a small smile appears.

"Good. We're all here." He says

Five's face returns to a neutral expression as the elevator doors finally close and they head up the floors to where they would be meeting their father. As they do an awful smell starts to spread within the elevator. "Oh..." Allison says

"Oof." Five complains as he pinches his nose closed

"Luther!" Klaus exclaims

"Oh, my God." Vanya comments "Sorry, I'm nervous." Luther apologizes

When the doors open to the floor everyone rushes out trying to get away from the toxic environment inside the elevator. Walking into the tiki bar where they were meeting the siblings catch their breath and take in some clean air. As they all make their way around the table in the center of the room Five turns to his siblings and says, "All right, when Dad gets here, I'll do the talking, okay?" "Got a few questions for him myself." Diego responds

"Hey, we don't wanna scare him off. He might be able to help us stop doomsday, get us home." Five retorts annoyed "No, we need to figure out why he's planning to kill the president."

It was ridiculous that he was still continuing on with this whole "Dad is going to kill Kennedy" thing. Could he not give it up for a day? For an hour? Of course not. That would require some form of critical thinking, of which he had none. "This is a matter of life and death, you imbecile." Five chastises "Okay, yeah, maybe we should take turns talking. Yeah?" Vanya suggests picking up something from a nearby table "Here, whoever has got this conch shell gets to talk." "Vanya, we don't have time for a debate, okay?" Five replies already frustrated at the group "Maybe I should lead. We all know I'm a better public speaker than the rest." Allison suggests grabbing the conch from Vanya "Okay, Daddy's girl." Diego comments sarcastically "Oh, jealous, Number Two?" Allison retorts "Hey, no more numbers. No more bullshit." Diego demands as he approaches Allison "Uh, Diego. You don't have the conch." Luther mentions politely

Diego gives Luther a smile before grabbing the conch from Allison's hand. Once he fully has it though he quickly proceeds to throw it at a wall smashing it to pieces. "Classic." Allison comments, rolling her eyes

As the siblings argued upstairs you had just arrived at the building. Charlie had parked around the back so you wouldn't been seen by anybody who may have arrived for this meeting. Before you got out of the car Charlie questions,

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I should be there. Whatever is happening is important and I should know about it." You reply

"This is going to be a family gathering but with Reginald. I can only assume it will go worse than the events of yesterday. Do you really want to deal with that?" Charlie asks confused

"No. But I feel I need to be there. This an issue for all eight of us."

"Okay but how are you going to get in unnoticed? You weren't invited after all." Charlie inquires

You step out of the car but lean down so you can look at him through the window.

"I'll just go in invisible. I'll only reveal myself if necessary."

"Alright. I'm going to go park a block away on North Griffin Street. Come find me after." Charlie says before adding "Good luck."

"Thanks. I'll need it." you respond

You stand up and watch Charlie drive away for a bit before turning to face the building. You take a breath before turning invisible and making your way inside. Taking the back entrance you head up towards the lobby and press the button to call the private elevator. You had been here plenty of times before for various meetings and parties that Reginald had to attend so you knew your way around pretty easily. Any regular person would take the main one but in a side hallway there was a special one used for grand entrances. Thinking that everyone must already be up there you knew that you could get in relatively unnoticed by using this elevator. When the doors open you stepped in and turned around, but as you were about press the close door button Reginald walked in to the elevator.

Shit.

You sucked in your breath quickly and covered your mouth trying to be as quiet as possible. You couldn't be found out. Not like this at least. Quietly you moved to the left of the elevator and tried to stay out of the way. Reginald reached for the button to the tiki bar floor and soon enough the doors closed and the elevator start to rise. When the elevator doors open Reginald quickly storms out of the elevator pushing through the private entrance doors. Still invisible you slip out of the elevator and through the door. As you enter the tiki bar you can see the shocked faces of all the Hargreeves children present. It had been a long time since any of them had actually interacted with their father. You head over to a seat near the table as you watch the scene unfold before you. Reginald approaches the table that the rest of them were surrounding and takes a seat. Once most of the Hargreeves had sat down as well he criticizes,

"Not only have you burglarized my lab, set my chimp loose, conned your way into the Mexican consulate, repeatedly stalked and attacked me, but you have, on numerous occasions, called me..."

He is cut off by Klaus though who sits down with a drink and greets, "Hey, Pop. How's it hangin'?"

Reginald looks over at Klaus annoyed before finishing his statement,

"Dad."

He looks back to the group and continues, "My reconnaissance tells me you're not CIA, not KGB, certainly not MI5, so who are you?"

There are a lot of deep breaths and looks off to the side. Saying they were his kids was probably a more difficult task than it looked from the outside. You could see your boyfriend shifting nervously in his chair as you then realized this was the first time he was face to face with Reginald since he ran away. Quietly, you approach him and place a gentle hand on his shoulder. You can feel him jump slightly as he turns his head back to see what was there. He looks confused for a second as he sees nothing but you squeeze his shoulder reassuringly and he realizes that it's you there with him. You just couldn't be seen. As no one continues to answer Five turns back to face his father and speaks up for the rest of the group, "We're your children. We're from the future. In 1989, you adopted us all and trained us to fight against the end of the world. Called us the Umbrella Academy."

You notice as Klaus drunkenly raises his martini glass after Five mentions the academy. What an odd thing to cheers. Then again you went and saw the cult that Klaus ran and compared to that it wasn't as odd. "Why on earth would I adopt six-" Reginald starts to question but is cut off by Allison

"Seven." Allison corrects "One of us isn't here."

"Dead. One of us is dead." Diego solemnly adds

Five reaches up and places his hand on top of your invisible one. To others it just looked like he was touching his shoulder but really he was reaching to you. He was glad that he had you there with him. From not too far away you can see Ben sitting at a table behind Klaus. "Dead, yes, but I'm here. Klaus!" Ben exclaims to him

Klaus turns to what looks like empty space but is really where Ben is and says, "Yeah, ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba."

"Tell them I'm here!" Ben demands "Enough of that now." Klaus retorts

Reginald and the rest of the Hargreeves look on at Klaus' unexplained behavior. When Klaus turns back around Reginald looks at the group once more and harshly asks,

"Regardless, what would possess me to adopt seven ill-mannered malcontents?" "We all have special abilities." Five elaborates "Special? In what sense?" Reginald inquires "In the superpower sense." Luther adds

Reginald sits up straight, a stern look on his face as he critically remarks,

"Called me old-fashioned, but I'm a stickler for a pesky little thing called evidence. Show me." "Everybody wants to see powers all of a sudden..." Allison complains taking a sip from her drink "We're not circus animals, okay? We're not gonna bounce balls on our noses and clap our hands like seals for your amusement." Luther retorts

Immediately, Diego pulls out one of his knives and throws it forward redirecting it so it just barely passes Reginald and lands in a wooden post across the room. You could tell by the look on Diego's face that he was frustrated. Reginald looks down at the notebook he had brought with him and starts to jot down notes. All of the Hargreeves lean in to try and see what was being written down. "What are you writing?" Diego asks "You are zero for two, young man." Reginald taunts

Quickly, Diego stands up and tries to make his way over to but Five flashes in front of him. Putting his hands up to hold Diego back he whispers to him, "Stop!"

"Now that is interesting," Reginald states as he looks on surprised

Diego sits himself back down and you decide to go sit at the bar. From the way things were going you felt it could get messy and you didn't want to be a part of that. "All right, uh, quick rundown. Luther: super strength. Klaus can commune with the dead. Allison can rumor anyone to do anything." Five starts to explain as he heads back to his seat "Except she never uses it." Diego jabs

Allison turns angrily to Diego and rumors, "I heard a rumor you punched yourself in the face."

As the rumor said Diego punched himself in the face. "Aah! Damn it!" He cried out

Allison slurps on her drink and gives him a pointed look even if he wasn't looking back. Five uses his hand to gesture to Reginald his point about Allison's power. Reginald then turns to Vanya and questions, "And you?" "Uh, maybe we don't take Vanya for a test run," Luther interjects "Oh, yeah, that's probably not a good idea," Klaus adds "It's fine. I can handle it." Vanya replies

"Handle it? Last time you handled it, you definitely blew up the moon." Allison states

Vanya doesn't listen though and instead picks up a spoon from the table and brings it back. Her siblings watch on as she brings it forward to hit it against her cup. "No, Vanya, don't!" Five exclaims

Vanya does not stop though and hits the cup causing a soundwave to ring out. Focusing the sound energy on the plate of fruit in front of her she causes it to explode. The fruit splatters onto everyone, except you since you had walked away. But although you didn't get hit with the fruit you did get hit with the soundwave. Doubling over from the pain of the disturbance the soundwave had created bite your tongue not trying to make any immediate sounds to alert the others to your presence. You would only become visible if it was necessary. Taking some quiet breaths, you sit on the bar top and are able to get back to normal and focus again. "Oops," Vanya says softly as everyone wipes the fruit off of them "That was impressive." Luther comments "Look, we know that you're involved in a plot to assassinate the president," Diego explains getting up from his chair

"You were recently hospitalized, isn't that correct? You still appear to be suffering from delusions of grandeur and acute paranoia." Reginald rebukes "Am I? Explain this." Diego retorts as he pulls out a photo of Reginald and shows it to him "That's you. That's two days from now on the grassy knoll at the exact spot the president's gonna get shot."

Reginald takes a glance at the photo before looking back up at Diego and commenting, "Well, I suppose you've solved it. You've single-handedly unearthed my nefarious plot."

You can see a slight glimpse of hope in Diego's eyes but it's cut short as Reginald ridicules,

"Is that what you want to hear? You fancy yourself a do-gooder? The last good man who will save us from our descent into corruption and conspiracy? This is a fantastic delusion. The sad reality is that you're a desperate man, tragically unaware of his own insignificance, desperately clinging to his own ineffectual reasoning. More succinctly, a man in over his head."

From the bar, you watch as the light in Diego's eyes slowly starts to fade and is overtaken by sadness and disappointment. Slowly he sits down more and more as Reginald's words cut deeper. You had seen them look on his face many times before, it was the same expression he would take as a child after Reginald harshly criticized him. Anger began to rise in you as you saw the trauma of his time in the academy and the feeling of not being good enough take over him. When Diego sits back in his seat he looks directly at Reginald and stutters out sadly, "You're wr-wrong."

Reginald ignores this though and starts to continue,

"Furthermore-"

You were done with this man and his mistreatment of your brother. Nobody talked to him like that. Not on your watch. Quickly, you whip out a knife and throw it in the direction of Reginald having it land in the spot on the table in front of him. The group all looks at the knife in shock.

"Enough." You yelled

They all turn to look at you. Jumping down from where you were sitting on the bar you slowly walk over towards the table.

"That was a warning, so I'd choose your next words carefully. I have nine more of those on my person and if you recall my 20th birthday" You firmly state "I don't miss."

Everyone was shocked to see you there, but most of all was Reginald.

"What are you doing here? You weren't invited to this affair." He demands

"Oh Reggie, I think it's highly important for me to be here." You say in a sarcastic tone

"How did you even get in here?" He questions

"I took the elevator with you." You explain "And then I sat around here for a while."

"Impossible. I didn't see you." He retorts

"You know Reggie, for someone who touts his intelligence you really can't put two and two together can you?" You sneer "Whatever do you mean?"

"I really have to spell it out for you, huh?" You say as you take steps closer to him "I'm. One. Of them."

"Oh really? So what can you do then?" Reginald asks in an insulting tone

"I can do a lot of things."

"Well go on then." He requests

You then start to explain your powers to Reginald. He didn't deserve an explanation but you did want to shove your abilities in his face.

"Well, there's a plethora of things I can do. You already know I can go invisible." You say as you make yourself disappear

"I can jump from place to place on a whim." You continue as you hop to different spots around the room

I can go through things and things can go through me." You add as you walk through the tables and walls around the room

"I can make things denser or lighter. Luther catch." You say as you throw him a glass

He catches it but is immediately pinned down to the ground and can't get up. You walk over to him and pick up the glass before turning back to Reginald.

"I can change the state of matter of an object." You explain as you turn the glass into a liquid and smoke before turning it back to normal and placing it on an adjacent table

"Hell, I can make things blow up by just thinking about it enough." You add with a smile as the glass blows up behind you

"I can create fire and water and smoke out of practically nothing. And I can see and feel disturbances in the world. I can do just about anything and you know why?" You ask rhetorically

"Why?" Reginald asks as he vigorously writes down notes

"Because I can control the things that make up this entire world. Molecules." you finish before adding "Was my demonstration to your satisfaction, sir?"

"Perhaps. Though, I am appalled that you were living under my roof for years and said nothing of your abilities."

"Why would I tell you about my abilities? You work with government. I wasn't about to be sent away to the MK Ultra project or used as a weapon of war. Now, let me get a drink before we really jump into things." You state walking over to the bar

"Absolutely not. What have I told you about drinking?" Reginald calls

"Yeah yeah, your mind is like a gold statue alcohol will only dull the brilliance, yadda yadda yadda." You mock "I'm still getting a drink."

"No." He demands firmly

The Hargreeves look back and forth between you and their father. The conversation between the two of you was contentious and yet there was something off about the way Reginald talked to you.

"And why not Sir Buzzkill?" You retort

"Because I'm your father and you'll respect my wishes." He states

And there it was. Reginald saw you as his kid. The way he was talking to you was odd because he was talking to you...like a parent. All the real Hargreeves children look on in shock. Their eyes wide and their jaws dropped at what he has said. There's a lull of silence before you burst out laughing.

"HA! You're not my dad. I have a dad. He's dead, but I have one." You say in an amused tone

You then head towards the bar and start looking through the drinks as you complain,

"Just because I live with you or you're dating my mom doesn't make me your kid. You tried to do this before, numbered your kids one through seven based on how much you liked them pretty much, and then were like you're number zero because it comes before one. No. I'm not a number. I'm not your favorite kid. I'm not your kid at all. I'm (Y/N)."

When you finally find something good, you grab a glass and start to pour it as you continue,

"Furthermore, If I were your child, I would've turned out like those sitting before you. The closest you'll probably ever get is the unfortunate title of father-in-law."

There's silence once more as everyone takes what you said in. You take a sip of your drink as Reginald looks on taken aback.

"You..." he inquires confused "are partnered with one of them?"

Grabbing your drink you walk over towards the table as you say,

"Yes I am and I don't appreciate that comparison type tone you used when saying that."

You continue to walk and go stand behind Five, placing a hand on his shoulder once more. You take a sip of your drink before adding,

"Honestly I'm surprised you're not happier. A woman of my stature coupled with one of your sons? And might I add, he's the most competent of your sons.”

"Hey!" Diego exclaims

"When you decide to leave JFK alone I will reconsider." You reply

"Look, forget about the president. We have a catastrophic war coming in five days. We need to figure out how to stop it." Five interjects

"War? Men will always be at war with each other." Reginald replies

"No, this isn't just some war. I'm talking about a doomsday. The end of the world." Five elaborates "Well, you're the special ones, aren't you? Why don't you band together and do something about it?" Reginald suggests

You all stare at Reginald but as you do you solely hear Ben yell out, "All right. Screw it."

Ben then runs and jumps into Klaus' body causing his arms to go up in the air and his body to start shaking. He was possessing him. You had no words for the given situation but the others did. "Is he having a seizure?" Allison wonders "Overdosing probably," Diego suggests "Should we do something?" Luther questions

"Klaus! Now is not the time. What are you doing?" Five questions

Klaus, or rather Klaus' body turns towards Reginald. It looked like a struggle though.

"I'm..." Klaus' voice says "Out with it, boy." Reginald commands "...Ben!" His voice forces out

Immediately after he falls to the ground and starts gasping for air. You can see Ben's passed-out figure next to him. Reginald looks on disgusted before stacking his papers and commenting, "Well...thank you for coming. I've seen about enough."

Reginald then gets up and starts to walk away from the table but Luther slams his hands down, stands up, and rips his shirt open exclaiming,

"Look at what you did to me. Look at it!” "Oh, shit. Why?" Five complains as slouches back in his chair

How did his siblings manage to completely mess up everything again, like it was the only thing they knew how to do. Downing more of your drink to deal with the progressively awkward nature of the situation you stood next to your boyfriend's side. Five reached up and took your hand in his. If none of his siblings were going to support him at least he knew he had you. Reginald looks at the scene before him before turning to Five and asking, "You in the culottes. A word, in private?"

He then walks away from the table and goes to sit over at the bar. You and Five look at each other as the rest of his siblings make their way to the elevator to leave. As Diego passes you let go of Five's hand and grave Diego's wrist stopping him in his tracks. He turns towards you and you can tell he was still upset from what transpired earlier. Without saying another word you bring him into a hug. No matter how upset you were at his actions you weren't going to place that above your love for your brother. Diego held you tightly, you were the only one who stood up for him when his father was beating him down. You were the best sister he could've asked for. From the elevator, Luther can be heard calling,

"Diego let's go.”

Diego pulls back from the hug and looks at you once more before silently turning and leaving. You hear the sound of the elevator door close and all that is left is you, Five, and Reginald. You turn to Five who is getting up to head over to talk at the bar and he turns to you.

"Just give us a moment." Five states

"Are you sure? I can pretend to leave and stay." You suggest

"No, darling. I need to do this myself." Five replies

You look at him softly and bring a hand up to his cheek. He places his hand on top of yours holding it in place as he gives a kiss to your palm. He then closes your hand up into a ball before gently holding it on the space above his heart.

"I'll meet you down in the lobby." Five says quietly

"Okay." You whisper back

Five lets go of your hand and the two of you split, him walking over to Reginald at the bar and you walking toward the main elevator. As you press the button to call the elevator up you hear Reginald call out behind you,

"(Y/N) I expect you home promptly.”

You let out a huff as you turn to face him.

"Fine...just don't get mom involved in this. She's already gone through so much with me." you softly ask of him

"I will not get your mother involved. Not even I want to place that stress on her." Reginald responds

"Good." You say nodding your head, a far-off look in your eyes "...good”

The doors to the elevator open and you reluctantly enter it. You press the button to the lobby floor and as the doors close the last thing you see is Five taking his seat next to Reginald. You hoped he would be okay being in front of him without you.

"You seem to be the sensible one, or as described, the most competent of the bunch." Reginald comments

"That's because I'm the oldest. You know, technically, I'm older than you right now."

Reginald looks at him slightly confused but when a bartender appears and places a bottle of brandy on the counter he offers,

"Cognac?"

"Just a smidge." Five says with a half-smile "The other night you quoted Homer at me. Why?" Reginald questions "You forced us all to learn it as kids. In the original Greek, no less." "You know, your dear companion called my coworker and ignorant ass in ancient greek the first time I encountered her." Reginald states

"Sounds about right. She has a sharp tongue and an independent mind, I admire it." Five explains, an amused smirk rising to his face as he thought of you.

Reginald slides him a glass of cognac and the two of them give silent cheers before taking a sip. Five places his glass down and his tone changes to a more serious one,

"This world ends in five days if we don't get out of the timeline."

"Worlds end. Paleozoic, Jurassic, and so on."

"We can do something about this one." Five states

"Man's greatest flaw: the illusion of control." Reginald retorts "I need your help. All right? You're my last sane option. Otherwise, I gotta make a deal that I really don't wanna make. What do you know about time travel?" "In theory?" Reginald asks

"In practice."

"I know it's akin to descending blindly into the depths of freezing waters and reappearing-" Reginald starts

"As an acorn. Yeah." Five finishes unenthused

"What transpired when you tried traveling before?" "I botched it. Big time." Five complains

"How?"

"I jumped too far forward in time. Accidentally brought (Y/N) with me and she got stuck 11 years in the future. Then I jumped without her and got stuck in an apocalypse for 45 years. Then I jumped too far backward, except this time I brought everyone with me." "Maybe your appetite is disproportionate to the size of your abilities. Start small. Seconds, not decades." Reginald suggests "Seconds? Look, no offense, but I need a bit more time for what I'm trying to accomplish." Five remarks "So much can change in a matter of seconds. One could overthrow an empire." Reginald starts before pausing for a second "One could fall in love. An acorn doesn't become an oak overnight."

"I was really hoping you had more than that." Five admits

"I'm sorry I can't be of more help." Reginald apologizes "I'm sorry, too. I gave you such a hard time as a kid. I didn't know any better."

Reginald looks over at Five before raising his glass and saying,

"No skin off my teeth, old man."

The two of them sit in silence and when Five finishes his drink he gets up and leaves. Taking the elevator down he finds you in the lobby. When the doors open you quickly make your way over to him and wrap your arms around his neck pulling him into a hug. Five holds you close but pulls back to look at you. Something was off about him.

"Did everything go okay?" You asked

Five looks away from you and off in the distance.

"Yes but..."

"But what?" you inquire softly

Five lets out a sigh and looks back at you. This was not the situation he wanted to be in at all. In a solemn tone, he answers,

"If I'm going to get us out of this timeline I need to go make deal with the devil."

"Well then, you lead the way and I'll follow you out." you reply "Just promise me something.”

"Anything."

"Don't turn around until you're sure we're all in the clear." you respond

Five pressed his forehead against yours as he held you close.

"Of course my love." he whispered

You tilted your head up towards his and place a soft peck on his lips before stepping away.

"I'll see you soon," you said

Five quietly nodded his head in response and with that he flashed away to go play some jazz with the devil in hell.

________________________________

Taglist: @xplrreylo @joebob15274 @insatiable-ivy @fruitsaladtree @angelpeachamber @academy-umbrella @lizziel1410 @ir3neeee @faith-quake @aliens-with-colas @sunsetcurve-1995 @lady-celeste25 @im-dead-and-hurting @nerdypinupcrystal @cherry-ki-d @anapocalypseinmymind @vicassa @2cuteforyourlies @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @shadowycreationcupcake @emily-hargreeves @metor-showers1994 @fivehargreevesforthewin @rinko-san @supernovavision @cicilisthebest @flickbix @hi-v-juice @magykal-777 @zosiaduda @thethirdwheelfriend @mysticracoon @isnt-it-loverly @officiallydarkgeek @lady1505 @always-the-very-worst @tinypandagirl @libidinexx @lemongrabbuns @itwasallred @deadandoverit @shlokage @keksi249 @theoriginalkat @we-stan-fiction @bi-idiot-fanfics @annnagennnie @izzyjojo4 @megasimpleplan4ever @flowertoty @grabthemoneyandletsgo @itsametaphorbriansblog @vanillacaramelhoney @satvaldiva @disaster-magician @margotsfandoms @emily-b-m @bluechildrenlickmytoes @soft-slytherin-sweetie @oceanspray5 @im-here-for-fanfics @thebloodrobin @freestarlight @starcurrent @lilacs-lavender @moatsnow @give-the-boy-a-hug @narikyuwu @whenyouregrungeaff

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hopelessly-me · 3 years ago

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This fic is for Nox who sent me a DM on discord and said she wants more witchy Clint. And since @noxnthea deserves all the good things in life- I had to write her some witchy Clint with a dash of future winterhawk.

I hope you enjoy it! (1765 words.)

Clint sat perched on a barstool, leaning over the desk and reading from his book. One elbow was propped up on the desk, his head on his hand as he read the lines. His other hand was near his mug of tea, the spoon spinning automatically for him, a thin purple line running from his finger to the mug. It was a quiet afternoon so far, and Clint really hoped it stayed that way.

The front door opened and he could tell from the giggle that his day just got a little less fun. Clint marked the page he was one and closed his book before he sat up straight. “Welcome to Herbs and Roses. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Thanks!” a girl called out cheerfully. “Com’on Buck,” she said, pulling at the hand of a man following behind her. He looked around the store a bit suspiciously, hesitant before he followed through.

Clint smiled and shook his head before he got up and made himself a mug of fresh tea. What he really wanted was coffee from across the street- the cutie behind the bar was always so nice, and it helped they knew his exact order so even in his sleepy states he could get his caffeine fix. But tonight he was supposed to work on some spell work, maybe even some shadow work, and coffee somehow made that worse. His friends had warned him that sometimes you needed to be off certain things when practicing spells you didn’t know because it could exaggerate the process. Apparently that was coffee for Clint, which was a damn shame.

“Hi.”

Clint nearly startled and looked at the girl that was standing much too close. She was a sweet little thing, big blue eyes and dark, curly hair. She gave off that energy of kindness, with a bit of spunk and a whole lot of fun- she was definitely someone Clint should hang out with after he took on too much negative energy from others. Being an empath was the worst.

“Hey. Something I can help you find?” he asked.

“I’m looking for a love potion,” she said, following Clint as he walked back to his spot behind the counter.

“A love potion? You?” Clint asked, setting his mug down and leaning in. “Seems unlikely. Who doesn’t fall for your charm?” he asked. Maybe a little flirting would soften the blow once she became demanding, if she became demanding.

“Apparently the guy I want to date,” she answered. “It’s a witches shop, right? Don’t you make love potions?”

“It’s not something we keep in stock, no,” Clint answered. “I am of the firm belief that everyone has body autonomy so I don’t stock items that take away any layer of that. No love potions, no truth serums. Usually the people using them don’t understand the consequences that come with their use.”

Soon enough the man she walked in with joined her and looked as surprised as Clint felt. It was the cutie from across the way who worked at the coffee shop. He smiled after a moment and looked at his sister before he gave a ‘what can you do’ type of shrug.

“Is that something all witches have to say?” the girl asked. “Some spiel about how bad things can happen, yada yada. Like it’s a liability clause so you don’t get sued.”

Clint laughed and picked up his mug and took a sip before he set it down. “I wish anyone luck suing me for using spells- those aren’t covered under anything the government takes seriously. But no, that’s not why I say that people don’t understand the consequences.” He propped both elbows onto the table and rested his head on his hands. “Let me ask you a question- what’s your name?”

“I’m not supposed to tell that to people, right?” she asked, all proud of herself.

“Hmm- yes and no. But seeing as I’m no fae and I am not collecting your hair, I think you are safe,” Clint teased. “My name’s Clint.” He offered her his hand.

“Rebecca,” she answered, shaking his hand for a moment.

“Rebecca. That’s a nice name. And who is this?” Clint asked.

“My brother, Bucky,” Rebecca answered.

“Rebecca and Bucky. Okay Miss Rebecca. How about I cut you a deal?” Clint said. “I will make you this love potion- I certainly know how to make it, I’ve made it before. But there is a price.”

“Five bucks?” Rebecca asked.

“Close,” Clint replied. “I will give you enough of this potion to make this person fall hopelessly in love with you for a year. But- in exchange I want Bucky here to drink it too for a year.” Rebecca’s eyes widened at the request. “That’s not asking too much. No cost of supplies. You wouldn’t owe me anything really. Just a moment to convince your brother that this is a good idea.”

“You would- you would make him drink it?” Rebecca asked, horrified.

“At least you would be asking him to do it, right?” Clint asked. “You are giving him that choice. Or would you have me add it to his drink without him knowing?” Clint asked. “Anyway, what is a year of someone’s time? Or even just a weekend? What did you want this potion for? A dance?” Clint guessed.

“I… I couldn’t. Not to Bucky,” Rebecca replied, stepping closer to her brother. Clint looked up at Bucky who didn’t look too concerned- he must have caught on to what Clint was trying to do.

“So if you wouldn’t allow it to happen to your brother… what makes you think I would allow it to happen to someone who also might not want that?” Clint asked. Rebecca stared at him before the lesson started to kick in. “Love potions strip away who you are and your choices, and replace them with the desire to appease, and love, the person who casts the spell. All your body autonomy? It's gone. And you have to hope that the person who made you drink the potion will grow bored and stop. And even when it stops- it doesn’t get much easier without time to heal and a good therapist.”

Clint stepped around the counter and walked down an aisle, looking at a row of books before grabbing one and bringing it back, setting it on the counter. “This book is filled with stories from people who were used by others, and by the spiritual world. Love potions, truth serums, spells to make you do the bidding of others, and people who used a spirit board thinking it would be fun. I think… you may benefit from reading this book.”

“How much is it?” Rebecca asked.

“It's from my private collection. As long as you bring it back in the condition I lent it, it’s free of charge,” Clint said. Rebecca nodded and picked the book back. “I know it’s October and that means it's spooky season and all the kids your age are looking at witchcraft and thinking about dabbling. And there is nothing wrong with dabbling as long as you know there is a give and a take. So. My suggestion?” Clint said. “If you want to dabble, come back and see me, and I will connect you with a person who can help you learn the safe way to do some things.”

“You don’t teach anyone?” Rebecca asked.

“I don’t- I’m not suited to be a teacher,” Clint answered. “I’m more suited towards… helping people find their paths and connecting them to others who can take that path too. So. Read this book and come back to me. Let me know if you are serious. No harm either way.”

“Thank you,” Rebecca said, hugging the book. “Bucky?”

“Go ahead, I’m going to stay behind for a minute,” Bucky said. Rebecca nodded and waved before she took off. “How many times a week do you get to give that talk?” he asked.

“You don’t even want to know,” Clint replied with a laugh. “Although having you there made it easier. No one ever thinks about the consequences unless someone they love is there.” Clint sat down on his stool and picked up his mug. “If it helps and she wanted to go through with it, I wouldn’t have done it.”

“That is comforting,” Bucky admitted. “So… witchcraft?” he asked, looking around the shop.

“Pays the bills. Been burned before in the past and want to make sure it never happens again,” Clint answered.

“Sounds like an interesting life story,” Bucky replied. “You know... when you get off work, since you were such a big help to my sister and all, I could make you one of those fancier drinks you like but rarely buy. All it would cost is some stories.”

Clint smiled and picked up his mug. “Sounds awfully close to a date,” Clint commented.

“No, a date would be taking you to dinner. I was thinking about asking that after the coffee repayment,” Bucky said. He leaned forward, his arms crossing on the desk space between them. “You can say no if you aren’t interested.”

“I am very, very interested,” Clint answered. “But tonight I have to… do-” Clint waved his hand at his book. “And I can’t have coffee before I do spell work or else I will end up with another disaster.”

“Sounds like another good story,” Bucky said, starting to smile. “When are you off next?”

“Wednesday. I get off at six,” Clint answered.

“Well, would you look at that? I’m off Wednesday at six as well,” Bucky said. “Meet me over at the shop when you are done here?”

Clint tried not to look or sound too eager. “See you then,” he said as casually as he could.

The door opened and Clint saw Rebecca’s head pop back in. “Stop flirting and let’s go.”

“You are… a huge problem. Do you make potions to make little sisters less annoying?” Bucky asked, walking backwards to the door.

“Sadly, no, or else I would have used it on my older brother,” Clint replied.

“Shame,” Bucky said, wrapping an arm around his sister’s neck and pulling her in, using his free hand to ruffle her hair. “Wednesday at six!” he said before he dragged them both outside, laughing and smiling.

Clint watched them as they went and picked up his mug. He slowly took a drink, trying to keep the giddy feeling down. “Okay Clint- that was… one way to get a date,” he said. “Now where were we-” he said as he opened his spell book.

#spooky season prompts #a wild prompt appeared

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palbabor-writes · 4 years ago

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Moniker

Hawks Week 2020 - Prompt: Rebirth

Character: Keigo Takami - Hawks

Warnings: Angst, some adult language, the drama of growing up

Word Count: 5433

“They need you to pick a name, Keigo. You’re old enough now and the data has shown that you’re learning how to control your quirk. The advancements we’ve seen in the last few months have been outstanding. The HPSC wants you to start making a name for yourself, publicly. We’re hoping, in six or so years, you’ll be operating on a professional level.

So, look over those names and pick one. Once you do, you’ll no longer go by Keigo Takami. No, that name will be expunged from the records.”

Why? He’d wanted to ask. Why can’t he keep his name? Does it really matter? What were they going to do with him? Why was he even in this program?

There were so many questions racing through his mind. But, he just nodded and looked out the window. What good did it do to ask? They weren’t going to tell him anything. This was all just another manipulation. They always tried, so, so hard to let him feel like he had a say in his name, in his life, in anything.

In reality, he was just their little puppet, floating along on a tight string.

Notes: Part of Hawks Week 2020, Day 7 - Prompt: Rebirth.

This fic, like my Shigaraki exploration, Phantasma is part of a smaller series I’m calling Hopscotch. There’s a ton of kids in the BNHA universe that just need a freaking hug, man. But, all this trauma does give me some nice topics to write about...Not beta edited, so all mistakes are mine, and mine alone.

Moniker mon·i·ker /ˈmänəkər/ noun a name.

Keigo Takami is a ward of the Hero Public Safety Commission.

He’s been a ward for most of his life. He’s used to the routine: the daily drills, the daily training, the daily lessons, the daily lectures, the daily monotony of it all.

He’s never alone.

There’s always a few of them hovering. They, being the agents who are assigned to his daily care and maintenance. They’re like black spots, bleeding out against the clean, crisp linoleum floors. He’s shuttled around like a chess piece. As if he needs a shadow to guide him. He knows this building inside and out. He knows just where to perch if he wants to avoid the cameras and he knows the secrets of at least five or six of his handlers.

They blurt stuff out around him. People never think kids are listening. Too bad for them, cuz, he’s got enough dirt to take them straight to the top if he wanted to. Not that he wants to. Some of the handlers are nice, but Keigo has learned that sometimes nice is another way to say: manipulative.

So, he imagines that he can flex a little control over them, too. He’s got the information, he’s just not sure who to take it to. He’s never seen the head of the HPSC. They remain an enigma. The leader of this whole thing is the one piece he hasn’t slipped onto the puzzle. No, whoever they are, they’re mysterious. He only knows they exist because he’s seen their hen scratch of a signature on his progress reports and monthly, “how are you doing Keigo,” emails.

Despite the mystery, the head of the HPSC is the one constant in his life. He can’t say the same of his handlers. Most of the people who surround him shift and change. They’re like a tide.

When he was younger, his father used to take him down to the beach. Keigo was always fascinated by the pull, the drag, of that dark blue water.

Yeah, these handlers of his moved in and out like a tide. Every month it was someone else. One or two might be familiar faces, but they never told him their names. Well, not their real names at least. No, no one ever revealed those. Keigo was accustomed to the secrecy of it all. It was kinda boring.

But, most days were.

It was just him and the various adults who were tasked with his lessons or training schedules. It was a never ending circle, a rotation of sameness that made his teeth ache. There were no other kids at the base. No, lucky him, he was the only one selected to receive this special training.

When he was smaller he’d been a little more excited. He’d wander behind the dark suits, clutching his Endeavor figure to his chest, his eyes scanning every room, every person, every crevice.

You can never be too careful Kei, his father had told him, his golden eyes winking down at him. Always keep your eyes and ears open.

“It’s a special program, Keigo. Starting today, you need to say goodbye to your name. You’re going to become a very special hero, okay?”

It was a younger man who had talked with him that afternoon. He can remember looking down at his toy, the plastic heavy, sticking to his clenched arms. Keigo can recall his small voice asking the man two questions: “Can I be like him? Can I be a hero who beats the bad guys?”

At the time, they had felt so, well, important to him. They were all encompassing, vital queries that needed to know the answer to back then. He disliked them now. They were stupid questions. Besides, what self respecting adult takes the word of a six year old seriously?

He’s eleven now. He’s way past those childish dreams. And, they still hadn’t taken his name from him. Oh, they hinted at it. He’d even caught sight of one of the lists.

The lists were the long rows and rows of potential hero names for Keigo. Not that he was asked much about any of this. His opinion didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. He’d only managed to see one of the lists a few years ago. His handler hadn’t been expecting him back so fast.

He wasn’t supposed to use his wings unless he was in the training facility. Little did they know, he’d been practicing. How could he not? He could feel each and every tiny thing with his feathers. It drove him insane. If he was drifting off to sleep he would feel the electricity humming through the walls. When he focused hard enough he could hear the distant conversations happening on the floors above him.

It was an endless march of noise, emotion, and sensations. He felt like he was overstimulated all the time, his skin too heavy for his bones. He wanted to scream some days: get these off me, I can’t, I-I can’t take it. But, he had to learn how to grapple with his quirk. It was part of him.

Still, sometimes he wished he was someone, anyone else.

‘Turn it off’, they said, ‘dampen the urge to reach out with your feathers’.

Yeah, right. Let them slip into his quirk, see how much they liked the all consuming sensation of it all. It was too much, too intense. Some days it’s a fight to make himself get out of his bed. Everything is just...too close, sometimes.

He’s just a kid, he wanted to tell them. Like that would grant him a reprieve. No, he already knew what answer they would give him. The HPSC had selected you for a purpose, a reason, Keigo.

They fed him such vague, well, bullshit. Yeah, he knows he shouldn’t say words like that, whatever. They shouldn’t be doing this, er, whatever it was that they were hoping to achieve with him. But, it’s not like the confirmed acknowledgement of their preposterousness would stop them. No, he’d learned to keep his mouth shut and his eyes open. It was the best way to survive the endless march of days and weeks. He would nod, practice, and then practice a little more in secret.

It’s his quirk after all. If he could perfect it, maybe they would loosen his leash.

His wings were still a little stunted. They could grow to longer points, but it took a lot of time and a lot of concentration. It was like his body knew exactly what he could, or could not, in this case, handle. More feathers meant more sensations. More sensations meant less sleep, less control, and, worst of all, less autonomy. There would be more tests, more training, more, more, more.

Still, he worked at it. It was a double edged sword. He both hated, and loved, the improvements he saw within himself.

Despite his impeded wing growth, Keigo could flap himself along now. He could even hover in the air for a little while, but his back would protest the strain after forty minutes or so. It hurt to hold himself up. His shoulders just weren't broad enough to maintain his weight. He’d been hoping that eating a little more would help. You know, beef him up a little.

He’d brought the subject up with one of his handlers, one of the ones he actually knew. The man had nodded, his curly blonde hair bobbing around his ears. And, with that, his food rations were extended. He was also given some other choices too. Some steak, veal, higher protein foods. He’d stubbornly stuck with chicken. He liked the taste. Never one to pass up an opportunity, Keigo took advantage of the larger portions and he gorged himself on the succulent meat.

Four weeks later, he hadn’t grown much. Maybe what, half a pound? Nah, most of that energy must have been consumed by his quirk. But, the more he ate, the easier it was to focus on it. Meh, still a win, win. At least from the HPSC’s viewpoint.

He mentioned that there are never any kids around the HPSC training facility, right?

Adults? You couldn’t swing a dead cat and not hit at least 4 or 5 of them, at any given moment. Keigo didn’t mind. He was used to adults. By nature he was quiet, observant. It was his habit to position himself in the corners of rooms. It let him see anyone and everyone who entered or left. He likes watching. But, he’s done that his whole life. Even before the HPSC picked him up he’d learned how to hone that skill.

Now, the trainers and handlers were trying to break him of that tic.

‘You need to curb that Keigo’, they’d say. ‘If you’re going to become a successful hero you can’t just sit in the shadows. We already have plenty of agents who are trained for that. No, you need to be more gregarious. Speak up, talk with people. You’ve been drilled in this skill, now show us what you’ve learned. We want you to be a hero’.

So, he myna birds what they ask. They’ll leave him alone that way. Sure, sure, he’s rewarded with gifts, with praise, with extra free time. But, it’s all so calculated. He can smell their intentions a mile away. He’s seen the books some of them read. They were books with titles like: The Psychology of the Child, The Developing Mind, Playing and Reality.

If that wasn’t obvious enough, he’d heard some of the conversations they passed as they handed off their shifts, the words lilting back and forth, like secret notes.

“Ignore his minor tactics. It’s just him responding to the attention. Only praise him when he’s behaving.” Or, “Give Keigo labeled praise. You know, build his self esteem. He’s so quiet, it’s hard to tell what he’s thinking. Pack a snack for him. That way when he opens up to you, boom! Treat in hand.”

Do they not realize how much he can hear? God, adults are dumb. Smile and give them what they want, or, say what they most need to hear and they’re eating out of your hand. Meanwhile, as they’re congratulating themselves on a job well done, they had no idea what thoughts were racing behind his golden irises.

No, Keigo is motivated by other things. One motivation trumps all the others: he wants to get outta this place. Just for a day, heck, he’d take an hour. Keigo is tired of the same walkway, the same lunch hall, the same dreary views of the city.

It’s springtime in Japan and Keigo can make his feathers molt. It’s a newer skill, one he’s withholding from his handlers for the time being. Maybe if he feigns a cough, he can pretend to be sick? He’s gotten pretty good at acting now. That was another one of his classes. It was like a, how to deceive someone 101. Actually, it was prolly called something like ‘Espionage for Tots’.

It was fun. He liked the smiles and serious faces he was asked to make. They should have slapped a big: “please, Keigo, don’t use these skills to deceive us” disclaimer on the door. He liked the guy that taught it, too. He was a short, unassuming man, but he would genuinely grin at Keigo each time he walked through the door for his session. Oh, wait. Was that just an act? He’d have to ask him. Boy, he’s good if it was. He needs to shore up his own skills…

He could always pretend that an imaginary sick day was part of the lesson. Look! My poor feathers, they’re molting, how sad. Also, cough, cough, I feel ill. No, ill is a bad choice of words. Ahem, I mean, I don’t feel so good. Can I lay down? Maybe prop open my window, for the fresh air. Oh no! I accidentally swooped out. Cough, cough.

Keigo isn’t even sure what he’d do with himself if he could manage to sneak out. It’s not like he’s not noticeable. He’s sporting at least 7 feet of ruby red plumage now. Well, if he’s gonna plan an escape, he might as well do it-

“Keigo,” it’s a sharp voice, and it startles him out of his musings. It belongs to one of the head handlers. Kaori? Yeah, that’s her name. Eh, the one she’d given him at least. She’s nice enough, a little rough around the edges at times, but she’s fair. Maybe, oh, maybe he can ask her about-

“Are you listening, Keigo? We need to go. The provost was expecting us over an hour ago. Where have you been? Mai couldn’t find you so she asked me to look for you.”

“I was up there.” Keigo points, his chin lifting to follow his movement, wings fluttering against his back. Despite her tone, Kaori doesn’t seem too upset. Her heartbeat is normal. But, that didn’t mean much around here.

“Up there?” Kaori’s tone is faint and a little awed. She turns her violet gaze to his, pursing her lips into a thin line. “Since when?”

“It’s been, ah, three months and sixteen days since I first made it to that perch. They didn’t like that I went so far. Eiichi said he was going to document it though. I mean, it ain’t too far. Guess I can go for a lower spot next time. I just like that I can see more up there, it makes it-”

“No, no. It’s fine Keigo. Don’t say “ain’t,” it’s slang. I suppose it has been awhile since I’ve seen you. How old are you now? Ten?”

“Eleven,” Keigo replies, his back straightening, wings arching beside his head.

“Mmm, eleven. Gosh, you’re growing up fast,” Kaori’s reply is sharp, practiced. Keigo rolls his eyes. She wanted to spark a reaction out of him. See if he’ll puff up with joy or grow sullen with her mistake of thinking he’s younger than he is. It’s easier to assign him extra training than really deal with him. At least, that’s what some of his handlers seemed to think.

“Have you seen the news?” Kaori asks, violet eyes resting on his amber ones. “There’s a mission coming up. Endeavor’s agency is taking it on.”

Keigo feels his wings lifting again, but he quickly suppresses the motion, his shoulders hunching forward. He never, ever, wanted to seem too eager. Not when they’d primed him for such an obvious tell. It’s not like they didn’t know what heroes he admired.

Yeah, Keigo had seen the news. He was permitted two hours of television each day. Most blocks were taken up with watching the latest developments. Sometimes he would shift the channel to a cartoon, but the television time would be lessened if he watched nonsense for too long. No, the tv was for educational purposes only, not for leisure or fun. He’d heard that line enough to have it memorized.

“What about it?” Keigo asks, falling into step with Kaori. She’s taking the long way back to his next lesson. Clearly, she’s wanting to glean something from him.

“Well, I was thinking it might be beneficial for you to observe the mission.”

“What, like on CCTV or something?”

“No. In person. We would need to fit into the crowd, but this mission has been widely publicized, it’s a miracle the villain’s haven’t heard about it.”

“That, or they want the fight.”

Kaori laughs. “Very good, excellent observation. You’ve improved Keigo. Consider this a set date. I will personally escort you to the mission viewing point. At the end of the exercise, I would like to hear your opinion on the matter.”

Keigo bites his tongue.

It’s too slick again, too obvious. The mission Kaori mentioned fits the profile of a raid, not the everyday, run of the mill, villain sting. Endeavor’s agency had been squaring up with the lower level fighting rings for months now. This was just another day for him. The number two hero promised to clean up crime and he was following through with that assertion.

So, why take him to see it now? Why did it matter if Keigo saw it in person? The data and video would be uploaded the next day to the HPSC database, he could just watch it and take notes then.

Why is she doing this?

Keigo chances a glance at her face. She’s pale, stern and stoic above him. Her heels click on the tiles and her back is ramrod straight. A few feathers bristle, feeling, listening, nah, her pulse is steady too. It’s hopeless. Maybe this is the challenge? Something to test him, to try and see if he can get a read on the unreadable?

“What’s the point of me going? What good does it do? My data sheets haven’t slipped enough to call for anything like this.”

“Don’t be so critical of everything Keigo,” Kaori scolds him, her purple eyes lingering on his spreading plumage. “It’s not a test, it’s not a drill. I just...I can remember what it was like to be a teenager and be trapped doing something I didn’t want to do.”

Again, Keigo is silent after her declaration. He’s not really sure how to answer. Pragmatic, logical, even angry responses, he’s used to those. This? What is this? Some kinda misplaced empathy? He never would have placed an empathetic bone in Kaori’s body before today.

They pause at the provost’s doorway and Kaori places an arm on his shoulder, demanding his attention with her strong grip.

“Let me know by tomorrow.”

And, with that, she’s gone, pacing down the long hallway, her heels tapping a sharp tattoo against the flooring. Keigo narrows his eyes, avian pupils dilating, focusing. Sure, maybe it was just an opportunity, a chance for him to get out of the headquarters for a while, but there’s always a catch.

******

The email comes a few hours later.

Keigo is sprawled across his bed, his wings tucked safely along his shoulders as he flips through his textbook. He lifts his head from his pillow and sighs heavily at the familiar chime from his computer. It’s either more geometry problems or it’ll have something to do with what Kaori was discussing: The Endeavor mission.

His wings shift and rustle as he stands. He’s agitated, on edge. He dislikes being maneuvered into a corner. No matter what the email is over, he’ll feel obligated to say yes. Even if it’s by default.

Keigo steps up to his computer, his long fingers racing over the keypad, typing in his encrypted password. As he waits for the screen to load, his eyes fall to the battered figurine beside his monitor.

It’s the Endeavor toy. He’s kept it all these years, safe and sound, in each bedroom he’s moved to. The flames are dull and his bright blue uniform is more mottled than cobalt, but it’s still a tiny piece of his other life.

His father had given it to him. It was years ago. He hadn’t thought he was going to get anything for his birthday, but then, his father had flown in, his own plumage glimmering against the dying sunlight and presented four year old Keigo with the toy. He had clutched it to him, his eyes shining and bright.

“Dad! Ah, how did you know?”

His father had beamed at him, his eyes softening at the sight of his son’s genuine smile. Keigo didn’t smile a lot back then. Their life was too tumultuous, too chaotic. There was too much at stake. His father had gathered him up and pressed the button that activated the toy’s internal voice box. Keigo had squealed with delight and wrapped his arms around his father’s neck.

Now, Keigo traces a single finger along the top of the Endeavor’s head, running along the dimmed flames. He’s seen a decent amount of coverage on the number two hero lately. He’d even gone as far as studying his moves. Not that it mattered. His quirk would never be a match for the flame heroes skills. But, he had to admire the guy.

He was constantly overshadowed, outranked and outclassed by All Might. Still, Endeavor pushed forward. He’s the only one who really tried to overtake the number one hero. It was both impressive and, well, kinda pathetic, desperate even. All the same, Keigo kept hunting for news of the number two. Once you have a favorite, Keigo reasoned, you tend to stick with them.

Tearing his eyes away from the little figurine, Keigo clicks on the new email. He blinks a few times, even rubs his eyes. No, no way. He spreads his fingers along the computer’s trackpad, enhancing the words. Yeah, no, it’s really there.

It’s the list.

Remember? The one with all the HPSC’s approved names for him?

It’s, well, it’s even more anticlimactic than he was expecting. Damn, it’s over three pages of the most asinine, inane bullshit. Two bad words, oh no, and in one sentence. In his defense, this crap deserved a whole string of curse words.

There are names like: REDWING, Darkbird, Vulture, WINGMAN, Canary, Condor, RED Condor, Northwind, Zauriel, Red jay, WING. God, it’s just page after page of trash. Whomever they paid to create this, well, they needed a new day job. Might as well just call him: BIRDBOY or something. Sighing, Keigo clicks out of the email, his plumage lifting and lowering, feathers rustling again, perturbed. Yeah, he’s got wings. So what? That’s not all he is.

Keigo is about to pace back to his bed when another email chimes in. Groaning, he doesn’t even look at the sender before opening it. Oh.

It’s from Kaori and the head of the HPSC. They were wanting to confirm the viewing of the Endeavor mission. Both felt that it was a good use of Keigo’s time and the HPSC’s resources. They just need his answer.

Funny, Keigo thinks, tapping a quick reply, they always like to pretend that he has a say in things.

******

He’s never been a tall kid. He’s not sure if it’s his quirk or something genealogical. Quirk makes the most sense. It’s hard enough to lug his own tiny body around, he can’t even imagine trying to pull someone like Endeavor into the air.

Keigo’s seen the number two plenty of times. God, hundreds and hundreds of times, really. But, he’s not prepared for the hulk of a man that is standing before him. Enji Todoroki, that’s his real name. Most heroes don’t hide their civilian names. No, they’re all listed in the databases of the HPSC and open for public scrutiny. Keigo shifts on the balls of his feet, his toes tapping against the pavement. Apparently, that’s not going to be an option for him.

Kaori had sat, prim and proper, next to him in the long black car as they drove to the mission site. Her violet eyes were dull flints of purple as she relayed the news:

So, look over those names and pick one. Once you do, you’ll no longer go by Keigo Takami. No, that name will be expunged from the records.”

Why? He’d wanted to ask. Why can’t he keep his name? Does it really matter? What were they going to do with him? Why was he even in this program? There were so many questions racing through his mind. But, he just nodded and looked out the window.

What good did it do to ask? They weren’t going to tell him anything. This was all just another manipulation. They always tried, so, so hard to let him feel like he had a say in his name, in his life, in anything. In reality, he was just their little puppet, floating along on a tight string.

Keigo looked over the police tape to Endeavor again. Even the number two hero got to keep his name. What makes Keigo so different?

“They’ll be rushing the entrance soon,” Kaori says, her arms crossed, her pressed suit dark against the bright sunlight. “You might be able to see it a little better if you move to the other end of the street.”

Keigo looks up at her, his eyes impassive. Kaori, sensing his gaze, blinks down at him. “Don’t go far. Consider this a small reward for good behavior. I know what I told you in the car can’t have been easy to hear. Don’t make me regret giving you a little more freedom.”

For a long moment, Keigo is still.

He wants to dash off. He’s never done that. It would be nice to place a little distance between him and his handler. Plus, he’s outside. It’s a beautiful day, just puffy clouds and the fresh, clean smell of springtime. Well, and the hustle and bustle of the raid that is unfolding across the street. He looks up at Kaori and her violet eyes lift away from him. She shakes her head and a small smile creeps across her lips.

“Go on, you better hurry. Endeavor’s about to enter the building.”

It’s all the prodding he needs. Like a shot, Keigo is dashing through the crowd. A few people clamor around him, their voices distant, complaints and admonishments ringing over his golden head. He rounds the street corner and his wings lift, testing the air, trying to tug him into the skies.

Amber eyes flash as he looks for the perfect spot. Ah-ha! There’s a low, tiled roof across the street. If he can get up to the second story he should be able to see into the back of the compound Endeavor is conducting the raid on.

His back aches, muscles tired and straining, but he ignores the sting. His wings lap against the warm air and, just like that, he’s landing on the roof, his sneakers bright against the dark tile. Keigo turns back to the compound. Yes! Perfect! He can see everything. His wings settle along his shoulders, still lifted as he crouches down, the plumage vibrating, listening.

Keigo can hear some of the transmission between the heroes. Their radios are switched up and the static sound makes his nose wrinkle. It feels fuzzy, almost like he’s stepped on a live wire. Apparently, Endeavor is about to move into the exposed courtyard and Keigo sits up straighter, his wings spreading, cupping under the low wind. He’s so focused on catching sight of the number two that he doesn’t hear the warning cry.

No, he only notices the danger when it’s too late.

His feathers bristle, arching, quivering, reacting as a set of talons rips into his delicate plumage. His wings throb. It stings and he feels the anger, the rage that is coursing through the culprit that’s attacking him. Their screams make his ears ache and he rolls away, his hands instinctively covering his head, protecting himself from the sudden onslaught. His golden eyes are narrowed and searching. What the hell-

The pieces fit into place when he sees her.

It’s a hawk. She’s already taken to the skies, her dark wings wheeling her back to the roof. She lifts upward, the strong winds carrying her high, against the clouds. Then, she’s diving, her feathers bracing along her sides, propelling her at a terrifying speed.

She’s headed straight for him.

Keigo, unthinkingly, rolls out of the way, his own wings flaring open and flapping him a good ten feet or so, hopefully placing him out of range. The hawk pulls up, another scream echoing across the sky. She wheels around, her sharp beak and eyes trained on him. Keigo’s foot slips against the uneven surface of the roof and he bites his lip, his ankle twisting painfully.

“Hey! Keigo! Oh, there you are. Come on! The raid is wrapping up, we need to get back.”

Kaori’s voice shudders up his spine, his oversensitive wings making her sound like a foghorn. Wait. The raid is over? He whirls back to the compound, his eyes scanning, flashing in his agitation.

No. No, no, no.

She’s right. Endeavor and his sidekicks are already back at the front of the building, he can’t even see them clearly from here. He’s missed his chance. Damn it.

It’s not fair, he thinks, a misting of tears clouding his sight. He’d been so close. And now? Now, he’s gotta go back to that stupid building. Now, they’re going to take away his name and force him to do even more training. Who knows when he’ll get out again. It’s just, it’s not freaking fair.

Keigo wipes his arm against his eyes, pulling the moisture across his sleeve. He can’t let Kaori see him cry. He hasn’t cried in years. He’s not going to give them the satisfaction of knowing that he still...wait...what’s that?

Across the rooftop, close to where his original perch was, is a nest. It looks clumsy, like it might fall off into open space at any moment. It’s held together with a spattering of twigs and sticks, but there’s movement. Keigo lowers his arm, his wings lifting again, feeling. There’s one...no...there’s two chicks inside. They feel soft. Their heartbeats are fluttering, like a butterfly’s wing.

He looks down at Kaori. She’s standing on the street corner, shielding her eyes from the sun as she peers up at him. Keigo lifts his hand so she can see, one finger raised, silently asking her for a little more time. Kaori groans, he can hear her exhale from here, and nods, lowering her gaze, one hand propped on her jutted hip.

“Be quick about it, Keigo.”

He lets his wings bevel over his shoulders and he hops, carefully, slowly, across the tiles. As he gets closer, two pairs of yellow eyes peer at him, half hidden in the tangle of twigs. He grins and leans up, wanting to look a little…

The hawk, quick as lightning clatters in front of the nest, shielding her chicks from his curious observation. Her wings flare at his proximity, her beak open, sharp. She clicks a warning, her feathers spreading. Keigo mimics her display, his own wings fanning out and the hawk tilts her head, surprised. Her eyes blink, the dark orange shifting from agitated to quizzical. Slowly, her wings lower, draping along her back. Talons shift against the tiles and she chirps at him. It’s a different sound, less challenging. It's almost like a question.

Keigo lifts one of his hands, his fingers balled into a fist and gingerly extends his arm, his shoes sliding closer. She lifts her wings and glides a little nearer, her head still tilted in that exaggerated way. She chirps at him again and lowers her head. If he reaches out a little further he could stroke a finger down her feathers. Just a bit…

“Keigo!”

The sound of his name startles him and the hawk. She yanks from his touch and launches herself back into the skies. Keigo watches her, fascinated by the ease, the grace that she moves with. As he’s admiring her fluidity, a single feather flutters to his feet. He almost misses it. The wind starts to catch it, pulling it away, but he snatches it up, his fingers careful to not crush the barbs.

“Keigo, I’m not going to ask again...”

He uses his wings to help him down the side of the building. The verdant plumage is swelling, arching behind him. It feels different. Keigo lowers them against his back, mirroring the way the hawk had draped them, the feathers close to his skin. It helps. They don’t feel like something that he’s untethered from when he holds them like that. He’s still basking in his discovery when Kaori steps toward him, one brow arched.

“You know better than that, Keigo. Didn’t I ask you to not make me regret giving you a little more freedom? Come on, we’re overdue. What’s that in your hand?”

“Nothing,” Keigo replies, tucking the hawk’s feather into his jean pocket. She was so pretty, fierce and quick.

“You put any thought into any of the names on the lists? We were thinking your hero name should be-”

“Hawks,” Keigo replies, his wings stretching behind him, shimmering in the bright sunlight. “I wanna be called Hawks.”

Notes: bb Keigo is too cute, I couldn’t resist.

Tags: @hawksweek2020, @spicy-skull,

#hawksweek2020 #hawks week 2020 #bnha hawks #hawks #keigo takami #takami keigo #hopscotch #hopscotch series #bnha #boku no hero academia #hawks-centric #little hawks #bb keigo

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leechonspeeddial · 3 years ago

Text

Midnight Shift: Singer's Blood

Summary: Something wicked might have come to the Burger King. Either that, or someone really needs deodorant

wc: 1.7k

Read on ao3

"And just like that? I'm in your game?"

"Eh, 'just like that' is like not it, Gucci, but basically. Yeah, dude," I watched as sprite mini-me walked all over the map — a pixelated version of East Laddle's last remaining Burger King, complete with a rat king decomposing in the parking lot and Not Kevin's monster of a car covering an old blood stain.

"Call me Gucci again and I'll burn down your secret edibles stash"

"Nah, dude. The invitation for your family's gala was written in gold, and the card was imported from France. I think I'm entitled, yeah?" I rolled my eyes and cursed as the date to Alice's stupid party drew to a close. Two more days before the humans unknowingly walked into a vampire lair.

It was cliché to say that I just wanted to be a normal kid, and there was a part of me that would be happy to explain everything I felt with the cliché. But I knew that wasn't it — spending a decade in high school made you realize how stifling normal could be. What I truly wanted was to be left alone; I was fed up of Alice treating my like one of her dolls and everyone enabling her. I was tired of having no thought that was truly for myself and Edward violating my privacy on a whim. It hurt to see Rosalie go from a doting mother to a distant figure when I no longer looked like a child, much like it hurt to see Bella see me as an extension of her beloved husband.

Being able to hear all of them have sex only made everything much worse.

"Whatever. Just show me my final boss form. You said your roommate was hardcore into Junji Ito"

"Alright, but we only have the concept art for it, though. Abby got super pissed at us for smoking her artisanal weed, so she's not like making the sprite until we get her more, 'kay?" Straight Kevin minimized the game and navigated through his discord server. I left him to his search so I could refill my mello yello; it was always a good shift when Gay Kevin and Not Kevin were away from the store. They were objectively entertaining men, but they also got a little too intense about work here. Neither would let us blow off work in favour of our personal projects.

Not since Wrestlemania Condimentalooza.

I slurped at my drink and absentmindedly wiped at the counter. Straight Kevin had his phone hooked to our sound system and he was blasting his playlist. His taste in music was…was one would call eclectic if one was feeling charitable – and boy, did I feel like I was making a million dollar donation. In the past hour alone, we had listened to swedish rap, some Nancy Sinatra, Blackpink, Tibetan throat singing, quebecois death metal, and Maroon 5.

Fucking Maroon 5.

But none of that compared to the song that was currently playing. It was less of an auditory experience, less of a musical treat, and more like being forcefully turned into a robot that was in the middle of short circuiting. Not only could you feel the beat, but you could see it too. It looked like flashing lights, and I was certain in that moment, that if it continued I would soon be able to taste sound.

And it was during that assault of my senses that I smelled it. Something unlike anything I had ever smelled before and an immeasurable sense of dread washed over me. The pit in my stomach felt like a black hole as I stood ramrod straight and saw a man I had never seen before enter the building alongside Jeremiah.

Nothing about him particularly stood out. He looked like any other white guy that just got out of the office. He was tall though, taller than anyone else here. Not unnaturally tall, mind you, but...something about his aura felt dangerous. I was on edge and no longer breathing, was this how it felt to be near il tuo cantante?

I made eye contact with the man and tried to place the smell, the flavour of it. It didn't taste enticing, if anything the rat king out back called to me more than the man did. But if this was what Bella smelled like when she was human, I had many questions for Edward.

"How's it hanging, Carrot top? Still working on that game, I see Shaggy," Jerimiah appeared oblivious of my behavior. Then again, glaring to our customers wasn't uncommon for me.

I looked away from the man and I saw Jerimiah set up a chess game on his table. Oh no.

"My man C.J. here is buying me lunch, so you can tell your anxious manager not to have a panic attack over more 'non-paying customers'"

"Nah, it's all cool, dude. Kev and Not Kev are on a supply run. Another of our suppliers dropped us like a hot potato"

"Cello beach, that's what they say, no?" Jeremiah shrugged and the man tilted his head.

"C'est la vie?" He questioned using a register of voice I had not expected. I hated it.

"Languages were never my thing. Math, now that's my jam," he dropped onto his chair and I decided I needed to clear my airways. I needed to get out of here.

Now.

"Kev, take their order. I'm going to deal with the raccoons"

I didn't even wait for a response before I hauled ass out of there. Luckily, I had enough self control to not vampire yeet myself.

Once outside I took a deep breath.

It was a deeply offensive smell, but at least it was a familiar one. Trash, raccoons, and decay, baby.

Though, on second breath. Way less raccoons than last week. Significantly less. Maybe Gay Kevin had finally bested them, which shame if true.

I leaned on the dumpster and tried to focus. It was important for me to figure out what the hell was going on, because damn if some paper pusher was the reason we left East Laddle. The Cullens would jump at the opportunity to decrease my autonomy if I ate some guy.

Which, yeah. Murder shouldn't be taken lightly, but I'd never be able to have as much freedom as I did now.

God, it'd be fucked. They'd make me go back to school and somehow rationalize that decision as a good one. Somehow surrounding me with hundreds of humans after murdering one would make sense because they'd be there to keep an eye on me...

I was getting sidetracked again, back to the matter at hand.

About three things I was absolutely positive. First, that man stank. Second, there was a part of me – and I didn’t know how potent that part might be – that wanted to murder him in cold blood. And third, I was deeply and irrationally terrified of him.

A trash can fell over with a loud clang and a empty jug of bleach rolled pass my feet. My eyes widened in realization – Jake had once told me that to him, the smell of vampires made his nose burn. It was an unpleasant odor that clung to everything a vampire touched. Similarly, Alice had gone on at length at how much she didn't like how the shifters smelled like.

The man didn't smell like a shifter, which only served to make me more uneasy. He clearly wasn't a vampire, his eyes were bright blue and I heard his heart beat, but my nose felt like burning back there.

The more I stood in our nearly empty garbage zone, the more questions I had. The last time I felt this level of terror, the freaking Volturi had crossed the Atlantic to personally execute me. It was horrifying.

And exciting. This was something new and unheard of, a break from the monotony of the past 15 years. I needed to solve this mystery and I needed to do it stat. Not only because this was potentially life threatening – and I didn't mean just the vampires, whatever that man was could be a danger to the whole town – but also because the moment the Cullens found out about it, we'd be out the Minnesota, nay, the States, before I could even think to protest.

I was so not letting the Cullens ruin this for me. This could be my Riverdale moment; Betty who? Resentment Cannibal was on the case.

...

Ok. That was a bit cringe, but fuck it. I walked back in to the building with a mission in mind. I also washed by hands with our heavy duty soap for at least 20 seconds.

"–that incident he got kicked from kitchen duties. Which sucked, cuz CJ has some wicked knife skills," Jeremiah's voice carried to the back of the kitchen and I mentally prepared myself to go back to ground zero.

"How didn't you notice the taste? Catfish smell so bad when you rupture their guts"

I walked to our registers just in time to see the man shrug. The chess game was still on going and they had pushed another table besides Jeremiah's to make space for the food. There was only one meal on the tray.

"You should have seen Tammy's face. She wanted to blow up so bad, but she couldn't because Susan was there," Jeremiah pitched his voice up and put on the worst British accent I had heard in my life, "'Oh, it's fine Mr. Singer. No big deal. Not a problem. Honest mistake. Happens to everyone!'"

He took a bite from his burger before continuing. "That woman is so gone on CJ it makes her look stupid."

The man made a face while Straight Kevin laughed.

"She isn't 'gone' on me"

"'Oh Mr. Singer, is that a new coat? Did you do something new with you hair, it looks spiffing! What a nice strong man you are,'" Straight Kevin dissolved into giggles while Jeremiah kept up his imitation. "You have to tell her your taken, man. For all of our sakes"

I stepped forward to join the conversation, when my phone blew up, vibrating as if its life depended on it. I would have ignore it, but the notifications just kept coming. The three men looked back at me.

Fuck.

I fumbled as I took the phone out from my pocket and I checked the messages, all of the Cullens had send me a text and they all said the same thing.

Family emergency. Alice had a vision. Come home.

Double fuck.

#twilight #twilight saga #twilight renaissance #my writing #midnight shift #renesmee cullen #twilight fanfiction

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exauhstedsunflower · 4 years ago

Text

I Am Very Proud Of You

For @cynicalrainbows, a one shot featuring the idea that Catalina feels left out of mom!Jane’s pride in her so called kids.

This got long.

It’s been a while since the queens have reincarnated. They’ve long since passed most of their personal issues. They even settled in nicely to the current century. Anne and Kitty got jobs, working in a flower shop just down the road. Anna has picked up several volunteer shifts at a local animal shelter. Cathy is a tutor for adults at the neighborhood library. And Catalina works at a daycare, decidedly liking modern day kids over modern day adults. (They have all of the curiosity and none of the disbelief in her legitimacy as a former queen of England.)

And Jane, well, Jane is a stay at home mother. Kind of.

They live in the suburbs in a place where cost of living is pretty low, Kitty, Anne and Catalina make enough to cover their more indulgent purchases. Whereas the rest is covered by some anonymous donor, who they think is the reason they are even alive. There is no reason for Jane to have to get a job herself. Not to say she doesn’t have hobbies, she does occasionally visit the local art supplies stores, and sometimes she goes to the animal shelter with Anna. But she does actually prefer to stay home as an introvert.

As she does stay home most of the time, she takes up most of the household chores. She cleans, she cooks, she makes sure that there is order where there would normally be chaos. This also means that she’s taken on the more maternal place in the house. The others rely on her, whether they were reluctant to in the beginning or not.

Her biggest maternal habit is validating the other queens. She spent a lot of time in her last life being put down- they all had. The least she can do whilst being the glue that keeps their little family together is to make sure they all know they are doing great given the circumstances.

It’s a rather chaotic morning, she’s been running around like crazy. They all have, but her in particular trying to get everyone ready for the day.

“Jane!”

That’s Anne, upstairs and probably looking for her jacket, which is hanging on the end of the railing at the lower level.

“Down here love, come and get your jacket before you and Kitty are late!”

She speeds down, almost crashing into Anna, who’s rifling through her bag with a piece of toast in her mouth. When she asks what the woman is looking for, she seems to forget about the toast. Jane reaches out and catches it in a moment of astounding reflexes.

“Ah! Don’t get crumbs all over my carpet, please.”

“Sorry! Have you seen my-“

“Jane! I can’t find my-“

“Kitty! I found-“

“Cathy, you-!”

Jane snorts, leave it to those two to have half conversations and still understand each other.

“What is it, Anna?”

She snaps back to attention, having been distracted by the yelling upstairs. Impressive how those two have the capacity to be that loud given the way they haven’t slept in two days. Yes, Jane knows. And yes, Jane will be intervening if they try to make it a third.

“My wallet, I can’t find my wallet.”

“Have you checked the hoodie you wore yesterday?”

“Shi- Crap,” Anna quickly corrects herself in Jane’s presence, “I forgot about that, let me check.”

She races off to check the coat closet, which is where she’s stuck most of her hoodies in an attempt for space in her own closet.

It doesn’t take long for Jane to find something else to focus on. Anne is currently making an attempt to find her snack pack for the day. Now, this is something that unlike what you might think, is not Jane’s doing. She does not pack lunches and snacks for the women in the house, if they want that they can do so themselves. Jane places Anna’s toast on a paper towel and decides to help.

“Isn’t it in the lower cabinet? Could’ve sworn you all changed where you keep them.”

“Oh! We did!

She finds her bag, likely filled with sweets, and stuffs the sandwich she was making and a water bottle into it. Then she does the same for the three others.

“Oh, you’re making lunch for everyone.” She observes.

“Yeah, everyone’s running a bit late this morning and I’m ready. So, might as well.”

Jane smiles, “I’m proud of you. That’s really sweet.”

Anne immediately flushes and thanks her bashfully, she never did get used to the praise.

Kitty then runs into the room, claiming she is ready to go.

Her outfit is a little different today. But, also, Kitty’s outfits are always a little different. Today it’s red lumberjack pattern leggings and a green sweater. There are several silver accessories that compliment her choker with a silver ‘K’ charm hanging off of it. Her hair is in a messy bun, unlike yesterday when it was straightened.

“Jeez kid, is it Christmas already?”

Jane rolls her eyes at Anne’s comment. “I think you look cute, good job Kit.”

The girl beams at the compliment. Her sense of style has been a way of expressing autonomy, a way of showing that she has full control over her body. Jane is incredibly proud that the girl has found something to help her deal with her past trauma in a healthy way. Even if it means questionable but admittedly cute fashion choices.

Cathy and Anna pass by Jane, grabbing their lunches with a quick thanks to Anne. Anna is holding her wallet, so Jane supposes it was in fact in the pocket of her hoodie. Cathy grabs a to-go cup and fills it with coffee.

“Cathy, thank you for being the only one to not scream for me this morning. I’m proud. But have we got any sugar for your coffee?”

Jane doesn’t remember buying any, but she does recall running out yesterday.

“I picked some up on the way home, it’s in the top left cabinet.” Anna supplies.

“That’s great, Anna. Thank you.” Jane is using her Proud Mom Voice. Anna also gets a lot of praise from Cathy, who forgot to buy more and was about to have to drink bitter coffee. (Not that she would have minded, but she prefers it to be a bit sweeter during the day. Black coffee is for night time.) She also smiles at Jane for her comment on her independence.

With the coffee made, and everything needed for the day found, it’s time for them all to head out. Anne and Kitty can walk, and Anna drives Cathy to the library on her way to the shelter. Sometimes Jane walks with her cousins to the shop. She’ll pick up a bouquet for the house or a new plant for the garden and that’ll give her something to do for about a half hour of being home. But today she’s not feeling up for the walk, even if it is just down the road.

She does a headcount of everyone and mentally goes through the list of things to be done in the mornings. Everyone’s lunches are made. Anne and her things, Kitty and her choker, Anna and her bag, Cathy and her coffee, Catalina-

Catalina isn’t down yet. She drives the other car, so it’s not much of a hold up for the rest. They all attempt to grab something small to eat to take with them as Jane wonders where the oldest queen is.

Her relationship with Catalina is a little different. Catalina’s the oldest, the most regal and independent, she doesn’t need a mother. And while Jane has proudly claimed the mom friend title, she doesn’t want to cross any boundaries.

Of course she still checks in on her every once in a while, but she’s not as forthcoming in the mothering with her. They both seem rather content with the arrangement, seeing as they’re both the more mature one’s in the house. They tend to be the one taking care of the others, not being taken care of.

Just as Jane is about to check in to make sure Catalina is alright, the woman arrives amongst the rest. She looks a little happier than usual.

“Sorry for the hold up, I was caught up doing something.”

Jane’s about to ask what, but Cathy beats her to it.

“Oh, it’s nothing really. Just finished applying for that child care class.”

Everyone cheers. That’s something Catalina’s been putting off for a while now. She hasn’t done it yet in fear of being rejected or putting herself in a situation she’s not prepared for.

But this is a great step! Because Catalina’s end goal is to open her own daycare center, and having the credentials to back it is super helpful. And she’s already flushed at the reaction that she got, so maybe that's why when Jane places a hand on her arm and says she’s proud of her, Catalina freezes.

It was an instinct, honest. She’d never do that on purpose, it's quite honestly probably a little patronizing to the woman she holds in such high regard. It’s just that she’s been praising all of the rest of the queens all morning and she’s still in that mindset.

She pulls her hand away slowly, and Catalina shakes her head as if she’s trying to clear some thoughts, and they move on.

“Right, so, everyone out! You’ll all be late at this rate.”

Jane herds the rest to the door, seeing Catalina linger for a moment. But she catches Jane's eye and seems to brace herself before walking toward the door herself. Jane does not ask if she’s okay, she doesn’t want to overstep again.

“You all got ready and you’ll probably be on time! Great job, love you all, see you later!”

She gets a chorus of “Bye Mum!” back from all except one. A common joke among the queens, based on her role in the house. It honestly fills her with pride though, so she never refutes the moniker.

Jane tries to catch Catalina on her way out to wish her a good day; but the woman dodges her and races to her own car, leaving Jane worried she offended her friend.

Catalina presses submit and leans back in her chair with a deep breath. This is a big step for her. It’s a good thing, but it’s also a commitment. It does help with her long term plans though, so she’s willing to do it.

The class would only take her seven months to complete, and it’s all something she’s invested in, it shouldn't be this scary to start. But it is, and she can’t help but resent that she has no support.

She shakes that thought away as soon as it comes. Of course she has support. The queens are very supportive. She knows that when she tells them she finally applied they’ll all be very happy for her.

Happy, not proud.

She shouldn’t feel that way. She should be happy that she’s been given this second chance, happy that she’s able to spend it with her loving family. And she is! But she can’t help but feel slightly excluded.

“Jane!”

Catalina has half a mind to tell them to leave the poor woman alone. They’ve been calling for her all morning. But she does seem to enjoy that they need her so.

“Down here love, come and get your jacket before you and Kitty are late!”

“Jane! I can’t find-“

“Kitty, I found-“

She could never call for Jane like that. It’s more than likely she’d be judged for it. No, she’s independent. She’s the oldest, she doesn’t need Jane to take care of her. And honestly she does prefer to take care of herself. It’s not that that bothers her though.

It’s just that Jane always seems proud. Consistently, someone in the house is making her proud. Whether it be something small, like making a phone call; or something big, like getting their licenses. Jane always finds something to be proud of when it comes to all of the queens.

All except Catalina.

She’s honestly tried everything. She’s done the small things like make a big deal out of something menial and then finally doing it, to no avail.

(“Catalina, weren’t you supposed to make that call three days ago?”

Catalina bites her lip, hoping.

“Yeah, but it was making me nervous so I kept putting it off.”

That’s not even a lie. Catalina does in fact have a bit of anxiety surrounding phone calls. But usually she'd rather die than admit a fear. She hopes to receive some sort of reassurance out of this, as she’d had a rough week and this was pretty difficult. But instead she gets a frown.

“You shouldn’t put stuff like that off. If you need help with a phone call just ask.”)

Then she tried acting out, which truthfully made her feel quite childish and stupid. It didn’t work like it seems to work for Kitty or Anne, who Jane seems to have a soft spot for. But they’re family, Catalina reminds herself, real family.

(“I don’t wanna.”

Jane furrows her eyebrows, “What do you mean you don’t want to? You’ve been asking to cook this for weeks! I even set aside the ingredients.”

“Well, I changed my mind. I’m not cooking.”

She doesn’t get a gentle goading into whatever it is she changed her mind about suddenly, like Cathy or Anna would. No, this bout of unnecessary refusal to help out with dinner just lands her in hot water with Jane, who was already feeling a little stressed.

“All I ask is-“

Jane’s rant lasted about thirty minutes, and Catalina felt much like a child who was chided for disobedience all night.)

Needless to say, although she does acknowledge it in her head, Jane does not care for Catalina in the way she cares for the others. They do have a friendship, but Catalina does not receive the same type of love.

And it’s fine, totally fine.

Just that Catalina doesn’t quite want to face Jane this morning. Because she just did something really significant and if she has to face being treated unequal to the others when she mentions it she might have to go back to bed.

But she is happy she’s done it now. It’s like a weight has been lifted off of her shoulders, she’s been putting this off for so long now that she’d never thought she would do it. One of the other daycare workers had convinced her yesterday to do it as soon as she got home, and she put it off until this morning. She couldn’t just go into work and face that person saying she didn’t do it, could she? And so she did.

With that sudden burst of happiness after her anxiety, she prepares to face the chaos waiting for her downstairs. She’s already heard them all congregate to the kitchen, maybe she can grab a pop tart before leaving.

“Cathy, thank you for being the only one to not scream for me this morning. I’m proud. But have we got any sugar for your coffee?”

“I picked some up on the way home, it’s in the top left cabinet.”

“That’s great, Anna. Thank you.”

So, Jane’s in a praising mood this morning. Great.

She walks briskly into the kitchen and moves toward the counter that holds her lunch bag, thanking Anne for packing it this morning. As she does this she apologizes for holding them all up, they’re clearly all ready to go. She hopes they haven’t been waiting long.

“What were you doing?”

She glances at Cathy, then starts rifling through her pockets again to find her keys. She’s looked for her keys three times now, she knows she has them, but it’s something to focus on.

“Oh, it’s nothing really.” She tries to sound nonchalant as she says it. “Just finished applying for that child care class.”

Nothing could have prepared her for the cheers that sound through the room. Everyone seems so happy for her. And Catalina herself is really excited, so it’s nice. It’s nice to feel people being happy for her, even if she’s not making anyone proud.

Kitty hugs her, Anna starts talking about the future plans to own a daycare that they can all help with, Cathy congratulates her since she knew how hard it was for Catalina to make that step. Even Anne is smiling at her and pitching ideas for Anna to shoot down.

And then, Catalina’s heart stops.

Jane puts a hand on her arm, like she’s seen the woman do to every other person in the house, and tells her she’s proud. She even looks like she means it, for a moment.

Catalina can’t possibly respond, as she’s never had to respond to that before. She’s been trying to make it happen, but she hadn’t thought this far ahead. She just freezes and stands still, eyes wide with surprise and slight hope. And then Jane looks slightly regretful, and it’s enough to kill her mood completely.

Of course it was habitual, she’s been telling people she’s proud all morning. But she doesn’t act like that with Catalina. It wasn’t on purpose.

“Right, everyone out!” Catalina doesn’t hear the rest of what Jane says as she withdraws her hand. Everyone makes their way out of the front door and says their goodbyes. And once Catalina regains her ability to move, she quickly dodges Jane’s special not caring goodbye to her and practically runs to her car.

Her drive to the daycare usually takes about twenty minutes, it’s not unusual for her to arrive early to help set up. On days like today, where everyone is running late, she gets there with enough time to at least say hello to everyone before they open. But today is a special case. This particular morning, Catalina pulls into the parking lot of a convenience store/gas station and doesn’t care if she’s going to be late.

Hands shaking, she takes the key out of the ignition and stares into space. Jane said she’s proud of her. Not only that, but Catalina ruined it by freezing up. Maybe she wouldn’t have looked so apprehensive and regretful if Catalina had reacted better. Damn.

She tries to recall something to make her feel better. Something to make her at least stable enough to drive. A memory from her maids as a child or something funny from this life, anything at all. But as she goes through her head all she can find is that she can’t remember the last time someone was proud of her.

That may have been the first time in either of her lives that anyone has ever told her so.

She takes a deep breath. She needs to stop being so weird about it. It was out of habit, a lapse in character. It’s not as if Jane actually meant anything by it; Catalina should stop thinking about it. Her heart should stop its longing, she’s a grown woman. It doesn’t matter that she doesn’t have that kind of relationship with Jane, they’re still good friends. She doesn’t need Jane to feel that way about her.

God, she wishes that circle of thinking actually worked.

Jane worries. It’s something very known about her. If there was three things that signified Mom Friend to the group, it was her mom-like pride in her family, her hugs (which are soft,warm and inviting to all.), and her ability to inexplicably worry like no other.

Sometimes she frets over the other queens safety. Like when Kitty had wanted to go skydiving and brought Anna with her. Sometimes it’s at night time when she hears walking around. Although when that happens she can usually keep herself in bed if she hears more than one person up at a time. Today, she’s worried over if she’s just ruined her perfectly good friendship with Catalina.

She has so much respect for the woman, Jane would never intentionally cause her to feel uncomfortable. If only she’d just thought it through a bit more. Catalina clearly didn’t want the attention. But all Jane could think is that she was just so proud. Catalina’s been putting that off for so long now, Jane was so relieved to see it happen.

And now she’s alone, which doesn’t stop her worrying.

If anything being alone makes it worse, because now she’s overthinking what the woman's reaction could have possibly meant for them. Is she going to distance herself now? Will she be upset with Jane for accidentally being condescending? She would have every right to be indignant, Catherine of Aragon does not need to hear the praises of Jane, her former Lady In Waiting.

It’s been no more than thirty minutes since the others have left for the day, and Jane has already driven herself mad with anxiety. She tires to hum as she tidies the living room, only to feel herself becoming too impatient with the tasks. Then she attempted to watch TV, but ultimately could not focus. It seems today is a job for a bit of a more heavy duty distraction. Usually she’d work in the yard, but the hum of nature might hut more than help in the focusing department today. So, she picks up her most recent embroidery project and heads off to her bedroom.

She settles in, ready for a long day of avoiding her own thoughts. But the door downstairs opens, pulling her from her work immediately.

Who on earth could that be?

She opens her door and peers down the stairs, thankful that the location of her room allows her to see. Hopefully it’s not a burglar, Jane thinks she couldn’t handle that stress today. Not when she’d dealt with anxiety from yet another harrowing social interaction. Even with the queens, she finds a way to mess up. And they wonder why she’s an introvert.

The person who has entered their home starts coming up the stairs, and she sees. It’s only Catalina. Her heart slows in relief for a moment, before she remembers that Catalina is part of why she’s worrying. Then it shoots right back to the pace it was at before. Jane doesn’t close the door, she just makes eye contact with her and offers a smile.

“What happened with work?”

Catalina’s eyes flash an unfamiliar emotion before settling into a passive stare.

“Not feeling up to it today. I called out half way there.”

Now, usually Jane would rush to her fellow queens aid. But after this morning she doesn’t want to seem overbearing, so she stays rooted to her spot and keeps her tone even.

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

If Catalina were anyone else, Jane would be running to help. She’d probably insist on calling a doctor and rush her to bed before even hearing what’s wrong. Then she’d endure the jokes at her expense for the overreaction.

But Catalina for some reason is not the same, so Jane does not act like that with her.

“No, I’m just going to lie down.”

Jane nods, and closes her door. Apparently not seeing the dejection emanating from the other woman’s very posture.

Catalina seriously just needs to make peace with the fact that she isn’t one of the others. She’s a part of the family, but she’ll never be in with them. If she made peace with this, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much when the examples of her isolation are so plain to see.

Instead of continuing to sulk in front of Jane’s door like a child, Catalina goes to her bedroom to sulk in her own space.

Catalina’s home.

Catalina is home, and Jane is so sure now that she’s made things weird. They can hardly make eye contact with each other.

She sits back down and aggressively picks up her embroidery project. Focus, focus, focus, focus! Her mind drifts back and forth between her hands moving swiftly through a stitch and her possible damaged friendship with Catalina. She should apologize, she won’t be leaving to focus until she-

Jane is abruptly pulled out of her thoughts by a subtle knock on her door. She knows Catalina is the only other queen home, but she can’t help but think that the knock is similar to Kitty’s on a bad day.

“Come in.”

The door opens slightly, and the woman on the other side ones her head in, “Jane?”

“Yes?”

There’s a hesitation, which is probably because Jane has made things irrecoverably weird between them. But eventually after her mental deliberation Catalina steps all the way into the room and softly closes the door behind herself.

When she doesn't speak right away, Jane moves her stuff off of the bed and invites her to sit. After Cataina’s sitting, they both make an attempt to start the conversation.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable-“

“Thank you for saying you’re proud of me-“

They both stop and stare, wide eyed.

“What-“

“Why would you have made me-“

“I just thought-“

“No! Never, I-“

“We’ve just been such good friends-“

“Yes! And so that was nice to hear-“

Jane looks at Catalina, astounded. Had she really been happy about the praise? She says so, but she seemed so put off by it before.

“Then why did you react like it was wrong?” She questions.

She watches Catalina take a breath before providing her own explanation.

“It just caught me off guard is all. You don’t really tend to say things like that to me.”

“I mean, I never thought you’d need it.”

Catalina’s knee jerk reaction is to say she doesn’t. But then she stops herself. If this conversation is going to be productive at all, she needs to be honest.

“It’s nice to hear every once in a while, though.”

Jane looks surprised by the admission, as if Catalina has just told her a secret.

“I always thought it would make you uncomfortable.” She murmurs back, although now she sounds like she’s back in her head.

Catalina gulps, now or never.

“I’ve actually been wanting to hear it.” She admits before she can stifle herself.

The other woman is still absolutely shocked; and if at all possible, her eyes get wider.

“What?” Jane stammers out in disbelief. Catalina kind of wants the floor to open up and swallow her.

“Not to sound needy or anything!” She rushes. “It’s just that you say stuff like that to the others all of the time, and this is the first time you’ve said it to me! And so I got excited but I knew it was just you saying it out of habit so I didn’t respond.”

“-Well I would have said it more often to you if I’d known!”

“But you didn’t know-“

“I was trying to respect your boundaries-“

“I get that, nothing has to change either-“

“Hell yes it does!”

Now it’s Catalina’s turn to be wide eyed in surprise. She’s never heard Jane sound so indignant before.

“You’ve- what? Been thinking I’m just, not proud of you? This whole time?” There’s a sense of urgency in the defensive nature of her voice. She needs to know the answer to these questions. So Catalina answers truthfully.

“Well, yes? And you certainly don’t have to be. I’m a grown woman, I don’t need to hear that you’re proud of me all of the time.”

She didn’t realize she’d been looking away until Jane grabbed her arm. It’s a soft touch, reminiscent of the way she held it this morning. When she meets Jane’s eyes all she sees is warmth.

“Catalina, I am so, so proud of you. Every day.”

Catalina opens her mouth to protest, but Jane speaks again before she can.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been showing it properly. I thought that you’d be uncomfortable if I treated you the same as everyone else. I have too much respect for you to do that.”

Oh.

“I’ll say it more, now that I know you’re okay with it. Alright?”

Catalina can hardly nod, overcome with an indescribable emotion. All she knows is that she feels warm.

They lapse into a comfortable silence, enjoying each other's company. They are good friends after all. Enjoying being around each other is the basis of their friendship, actually.

“Hey, Jane?”

“Yes?”

“You know, calling out is really stressful.” She observes.

Jane’s eyes light up in recognition, “Ah, yes. What with them asking you questions and your phone anxiety. I imagine it’s very difficult for you.”

She nods bashfully, hopeful once again.

“Well, dear, I am very proud of you.”

#Six #six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #six ff #six fanfiction #catherine of aragon #Jane Seymour

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lemonpeter · 3 years ago

Text

STARKER: by Peter B. Parker

Chapter 10: Doppelgänger

A/N: hello and welcome back to this clusterfuck of a fic! i, bloo, sincerely apologize for the delay in the posting of this chapter. real life took over for a bit, i started coming out of my winter depression session and feeling better led to me doing more things irl, and thus fandom took a seat on the back burner for a couple of hot secs.

bri has been SO patient with me and she is the best and the sweetest for dealing with my ADD ass. <3 we love bri.

ANYWHO-

we also love y’all, and appreciate you so much! hopefully updates will become more regular again.

thanks for sticking with us, bloo and bri <3

(Bri here: real life has been wild for both of us lol bloo is wonderful 💕 also it feels like I’m gushing about myself since I’m the one posting but I promise that note was copied from what bloo wrote on the doc-)

Warnings: Peter is Not Okay, angst, whump, g*n mention, wound mention, guilt, victim blaming, g*slighting (lemme know if I need to add)

Masterlist ao3

***

“Did Tony just get- shot?” Ned asked incredulously, eyes wide with disbelief. “Peter shot him?”

“I mean...yes? I think? But wait, look- Peter’s acting like he doesn’t know what’s going on. Did he not do that?” Paige rushed the words out, gazing intently at the screen for a moment. Then she turned and looked first at Ned, then at the other agents in the room. “We didn’t do that, did we?” When everyone hurriedly shook their heads with wide eyes, the teen included, she sighed and took off her glasses to run her hands down her face. “So he’s shooting people now?”

Another heavy sigh sounded from a few feet away. Fury closed his eye, taking a deep breath before cutting his gaze to an agent who was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed as he stared at the monitor. “Grayson.” The man stood up straight, blinking with a sheepish expression on his face and he looked over at the director. “Contact May Parker. Now.”

The agent frowned and hesitated before ultimately deciding to speak up. “But… Sir, didn’t she ask that we not-”

Fury was quick to interrupt, his tone biting. “I’m sure she would like to be notified that her nephew has turned homicidal,” the bald man spat, rolling his eye in irritation. “Now like I said- contact May Parker and let her know that there have been some…developments.”

Even if it wasn’t intentional, the violence was still Peter’s doing. Which didn’t seem like a good sign.

He let out a heavy breath. “Tell her that a car will be outside her apartment waiting for her within the next two hours.”

The already tense atmosphere of the room only grew as Fury never looked away from the man, keeping their gazes locked as he dared the agent to question his authority for a second time.

“Of course, Director Fury.” Eyes on the ground, Grayson quickly turned and walked through the doorway, the other occupants turning back to their tasks.

Everyone’s eyes were trained on the screens as they watched Peter all but drag Tony into the penthouse from the elevator. The older man didn’t look good in any sense of the word, not even close. He was pale, sweaty, with rattled breathing and an ever-growing bloodstain covering his chest. And Peter’s panic was clearly visible on his face.

After a few moments, Ned spoke up, discomfort lacing his tone. “I- Someone please tell me he’s not about to do what I think he is…”

“Holy shit,” Paige breathed. Her hand placed itself over her mouth that was dropped open.

Noises of shock echoed throughout the space, and Ned averted his eyes, swallowing with difficulty.

Agent Hill spoke up for the first time since the scene had unravelled. “I don’t think Peter’s controlling this thing, not anymore.”

Fury turned to look at her, gaze narrowed. “What do you mean? The illusion is obviously running, and I’m assuming that means the glasses are receiving input from him. Right Leeds?”

Ned, still unable to keep his eyes on the monitors, nodded slowly. “Yes, sir. Th-That’s correct.”

It was Hill’s turn to nod, then. “Yes, that’s true, but not what I meant. I don’t think he is consciously influencing the illusions anymore. Or at least not completely.”

Paige hummed softly, head hanging as she leaned down over one of the desks. The dark ringlets of her hair fell around her like a curtain, obscuring her face. “I agree. He seems to still be in control of some aspects, like location. And he was able to, uh, place the sutures. Successfully stopping Mr. Stark from bleeding out. But he wasn’t able to heal him indirectly, even though he obviously tried.”

“What...but then how? Why are things happening if Peter isn’t the one doing the um, influencing?” Ned turned back to the screens, specifically the one full of lines and lines of green characters. He wasn’t ready to look at the others yet. “I’m constantly checking the logs and the security, there have been no breaches. Um. Other than us, that is.” He looked back up, waiting for a response from one of the others, eyes searching Paige’s hopefully, but none came.

No one had an answer to that question.

***

Tony may have been the one who got shot, but there was a hole in the middle of Peter’s chest, too. Raw, tender, cavernous...aching with every single breath that he took.

And he couldn’t close it up, like he had done Tony’s, because the piece of him that was meant to be there was just...gone.

Missing.

And he had no idea how to get it back.

Something was glaringly and obviously wrong, but Peter didn’t know what exactly it was, or what he was supposed to do. Despite having tried his hardest to fix things, nothing was getting better. It was all just...getting worse. (He was getting worse-)

He knew that something was missing. It felt like a huge part of him had been ripped from his life, leaving a gaping void that couldn’t be filled.

And things were only getting worse, still.

Especially between him and Tony.

Peter had thought that things were okay as Tony recovered from his...injury. Not perfect, but okay. Good. Improving. Sure, his husband had been quiet and subdued for the past few days. But he thought that was reasonable and to be expected, the man was in pain. (He was in pain, too, though. Tony didn’t seem to notice. Or care.)

But even now that the older man was mostly healed, there was still a strange tension between them. Distance.

And Peter had no fucking idea what to do about it. Because Tony refused to tell him what was wrong.

Deep down, Peter knew. He knew that everything was wrong, that the whole situation was wrong, that there was no part of their world that was even remotely okay. But if he acknowledged that fact, what was the point? Of any of it? What did he have then, without this, without Tony? Absolutely nothing. So he just wouldn’t acknowledge it.

He’d tried everything he could think of. He’d been attentive to Tony’s every need during his recovery, keeping him supplied with food and water, providing entertainment in the form of working together on various projects and watching TV or reading together, never letting the man out of his sight for more than a few minutes at a time.

He’d even tried to initiate sex, once it seemed Tony was feeling better, so that they could be close to each other in such an intimate way in hopes that it woud fix things. Nothing too strenuous on his husband’s part, of course. Peter had simply wanted to make the older man feel good, bring him some pleasure and show him just how much he meant to his lover.

And Tony had turned him down each time, always pushing him away softly with that clouded, far away look in his eyes. The one that had been there ever since he’d brought up his feelings about what had happened with May.

Now that the older man was better, now that he was healed and had more energy and things could possibly go better, Peter was still too scared to try. He didn’t want to be rejected again. He didn’t know if he could handle it.

He didn’t understand Tony’s refusal in the first place. This world was supposed to be whatever he wanted. And what he wanted was for his husband to want him again, for his husband to love him, touch him, smile at him the way that he used to. And that obviously was not what was happening.

Why did it feel like Tony had more control over things than he did? Sure, the teen intended for his partner to have some semblance of autonomy, in that he could take care of himself and his basic needs, but Peter consciously gave him that autonomy. But now…

Now it seemed like Tony was able to actually think for himself on some level, which would explain why he was able to remember the incident with May despite Peter’s best attempts, and why he seemed hesitant to bring it up to Peter.

And he could see it in Tony’s eyes, the way he didn’t quite know what to make of what little information he did have.

Peter didn’t want to add to the confusion, or cause any more frustration. He didn’t want to stress Tony out.

But he couldn’t tell him the truth, either.

There was nothing he could do.

***

Peter gazed into the bathroom, hands gripping the door frame as he watched Tony.

The older man was standing under the spray of the shower. His hand gingerly rubbed at his chest with a washcloth, head back and eyes closed so as to not look at the mottled knot of scar tissue there.

Peter wanted so badly to join him, his husband, to stand there wrapped in his arms and surrounded by the warmth of the water.

But Tony didn’t want him.

Not anymore.

The two of them were merely coexisting at this point. It was like they weren’t married anymore, not really, like they had slipped back into that painful distance from before, when Tony was still Mr. Stark and Peter was just that fucking kid.

Tony hadn’t touched him since the accident.

“That’s a pretty nasty scar he’s got there, huh? I know you tried to stitch him up but damn. No awards for your suture technique, that’s for sure.”

Peter turned around so fast that he was sure he nearly snapped his neck. That was- That was his voice.

But he knew he hadn’t said anything.

Craning his neck and peering around the large bedroom with wide eyes, Peter held his breath as he listened intently. The sounds of Tony showering could be heard from the open bathroom door. He couldn’t hear anything else, but he could have sworn... “H-hello?” The teen kept turning his head, eyes wide as he looked for any sign of someone else in the room with him.

“Up here.”

And up there he was. Crouched on the ceiling, a position Peter frequently found himself in, was... well, Peter. Another Peter.

He was smirking, something sinister and unsettling glinting in his dark eyes as he gazed down upon his counterpart. “For someone with a sixth sense, it’s really sad that I had to give myself away for you to notice me. So much for that Peter-tingle. You really are losing it, Spider-Boy. Pathetic.” His grin only grew as the words left his mouth.

Peter gaped up at him, heart pounding. What the fuck was going on? He blinked a few times as he tried to take control of the illusion, alter whatever was happening. It wasn’t working. Just like when Tony had been shot. “Who are-“

The other Peter was quick to cut off his questioning. His eyes flashed. “Don’t act like you don’t know. You know exactly who I am.” The double dropped from the ceiling, standing right across from Peter.

It was like looking into a mirror. The doppelgänger was a spitting image of Peter, save for the dark look in his eyes and the cocky smirk pulling at his lips.

“I-I don’t know.” Peter shook his head, soft yet frantic. He was still desperately trying to influence the situation, hands shaking as he clenched them at his sides.”

Not-Peter shook his head in return, laughing as he copied the action. But the sound was cold and harsh, no joy in it at all. “I’m you, you fucking coward. It’s as simple as that. All of this is you! Stop pretending you don’t know what’s going on.”

Peter didn’t want to believe it. This…fake him was cruel. He could never be like that. He never wanted to be anything like that.

The doppelganger scoffed. “You’re no fucking saint, Peter, no matter how much you’d like to convince Tony that you are. He’s catching on, isn’t he? Starting to realize that things aren’t as perfect as you’ve been making them out to be?”

“That’s n-not true,” Peter stuttered as he tried to control his breathing. “You don’t know anything about Tony. Don’t bring him into this-”

“How are things with Tony, by the way?” The doppelganger’s lip curled up at the pained expression that took over Peter’s face. “Ohhh, that bad huh? I can’t say I’m surprised…” He let himself trail off. “It really is sad, you know, Peter? Call me redundant but I feel it needs to be said again, so bare with me. You’re pathetic.”

“Stop,” Peter ground out, hands clenched into fists at his sides. His eyes were clenched shut, but when he heard the other move, his lids flew open instinctively. “You aren’t- You aren’t real.”

A harsh bark of a laugh seemed to echo throughout the room. “I’m as real as anyone you’ve been interacting with these days.”

“That’s not true,” Peter said softly, denying what he knew deep down was, in fact, the truth.

Not-Peter scoffed, taking a step towards his double. He shook his head softly in admonishment. “You really are pathetic.” He’d made it more than obvious how much joy the word brought him, with the way it all but oozed from his lips. “Like I was saying, this whole thing is tragic, it really is, Peter. You know that there is no way that Tony Stark could have ever wanted you, in any sense of the word. Definitely not like this, this weird relationship you’ve conjured up as a byproduct of your unaddressed daddy issues. That’s why you ran away, like the little fucking coward that you are. You ran, so that you could hide out and construct this sick little fantasy world of yours.

“And how’s that working out for you…kid? It’ll tell you: you shot your husband because he was starting to question you, and of course you couldn’t have that. How dare Tony be anything other than the obedient little puppet you want him to be.”

“That’s not true,” Peter choked out, chest constricting. “I- I didn’t do that, it wasn’t me! I tried- I tried to stop it, I tried to undo it but it wouldn’t work so I had to- I had to f-fix him-”

The double cut him off again, as if he had never spoken at all. “I guess you’re right in that sense, so I’ll give you that. I know it wasn’t you. Because it was me.” He paused, hand moving up to his chin as he pretended to think, waxing philosophical. “But then again, I am you, so-”

“You aren’t me,” Peter argued one last time, knowing it wasn’t true. His voice was weak because he knew the truth. Even if he didn’t want to believe it, refused to believe it. “And I would never hurt Tony.”

“No? Not even after he abandoned you?” The fake Peter was taunting him, voice dripping with condescension. “Because you were having some pretty contradictory thoughts that are leading me to believe otherwise. Remember how angry you were?”

Of course he remembered. The teen had been so hurt and betrayed and he knew it was irrational. But Peter was certain that he wouldn’t- he would never actually hurt Tony. He couldn’t.

But how else did he get shot, if Peter was the one in control?

“Stop it,” Peter snapped, voice full of vitriol. Then he instantly recoiled, stomach sinking. That wasn’t him. The angry, frustrated feelings that he kept having weren’t him. They couldn’t be. He couldn’t act like that, that’s how he got here in the first place, it was everything he was trying to fix.

It was how Tony had gotten hurt.

Maybe he hadn’t been holding the gun, but he’d been the one that caused it to happen.

Peter became aware that the sounds of the shower had stopped when he finally shifted his focus away from the double and back to his husband. Partner. Whoever they were now. He heard footsteps approaching and didn’t have enough time to try and make the doppelgänger disappear.

“Pete?” Tony asked softly, rubbing his hair dry with the towel in his hands. Another was wrapped around his waist, leaving his chest bare. (Peter’s eyes were immediately drawn to the scar.) “Were you just...waiting out here for me?”

His eyes were on the double, unaware that it wasn’t actually Peter, not catching on to the fact that there were two of them yet.

“Of course I was,” not-Peter said, eyes blown wide as he attempted to look innocent, to look like Peter. “It’s not like there’s anything else I could be doing.”

Tony’s eyebrows furrowed. “What? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” When he had first emerged from the bathroom, his tone had been light, more so than it had been since his injury. It had sparked something hopeful inside Peter, and now his heart ached to hear the rough, distrustful edge come back.

“Oh, I mean,” the doppelganger continued with his act, though Peter could see the mirth shining in his eyes. “I just meant that, y’know, there’s nothing else I would rather be doing. Otherwise I would be doing it, since I am control-”

Peter was across the room before he was conscious of the movement, backing the interloper up against the wall and pressing his forearm up to his throat. “Shut the fuck up,” the teen growled desperately, voice breaking. “You ruined everything-”

The double struggled in Peter’s hold, face turning slightly red. His voice was raspy and choked off when he spoke. His nails dug into the skin of Peter’s arm. “Which means you ruined it yourself, you fucking coward! Go ahead, tell him. Tell Tony-”

“Peter? Tell me what? Who is- Peter, what the hell is going on?”

“Shut up!” Peter’s fist jerked back before it flew forward, connecting with the nose of the body in front of him. He heard Tony gasp and call out his name, but he ignored the man in favor of swinging his arm forward again. “I hate you! Why won’t you go away? I hate you!”

Despite the blood pouring out of his nose and rolling in crimson rivulets down his face, not-Peter grinned, the red smearing in sharp contrast on the white of his teeth. “We all knew you hated yourself, Peter, that’s not news.”

When Peter moved like he was going to strike again, Tony decided to actually intervene, even though he still had no idea what was going on. “Hey, Peter- Peter, baby, come here, let him go. This isn’t you baby-”

The teen let out a panicked gasp, melting into the other man’s embrace. “But it is,” he cried, brokenly. “It is me Tony, I-”

Tony hushed him, holding Peter close. He still didn’t know what was going on, but he needed to try and keep Peter calm. And from fighting the other one. “I know this isn’t you. You wouldn’t hurt anyone,” he said softly. Although he wasn’t sure he believed himself. He was so lost with everything going on, he didn’t know what to believe.

The other Peter just stayed leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “You don’t even know, Tony.” The name was said like an insult. “You don’t get any of this, do you?”

“Shut up,” Peter whispered, all the fight leaving his body as he was held. “Just stop. You need to go away.” Why couldn’t he just make the imposter disappear? He was in control.

At least, he was supposed to be.

A grotesquely sinister expression took over the doppelganger’s face. His eyes were bright, burning, as his gaze locked with Peter’s.

The expression set the teen’s already frayed nerves on edge. He froze in Tony’s arms, heart pounding. Why was he looking at him like that? And why was that look so familiar? Where had he seen-

“It’s pretty easy to fool people when they’re already fooling themselves, Peter.”

The reaction was almost instantaneous.

“No, no, no, no,” Peter muttered to himself, voice shaking. His hands moved to his head, pulling at his hair, and when he opened his eyes for a moment, it wasn’t his own face staring back at him.

It was Beck.

“You’re not real,” he whispered, choking on his breath. “Y-you’re not-”

“Peter, baby, you’ve gotta calm-”

“N-not real-”

***

“Peter, sweetie, could you take the rolls out of the oven?”

“Sure thing, mama.” He opened his eyes, glancing back before going to do as she said. That was better.

“And where’s that husband of yours, he’s joining us for dinner, right?”

Peter bit his lip. He hadn’t even noticed that Tony wasn’t there. “He should be back soon, just had to step out for work.” There, that sounded convincing enough.

“Such a hard worker, that Tony,” May chirped, a grin pulling at her lips as she sliced tomatoes for the salad. “You really lucked out, Petey.”

It was a sweet thing to say. It was exactly what he thought about Tony. But it sure as hell wasn’t anything that May would say. However, Peter just let the genuine affection in her tone relax him, letting out a soft sigh. “I really did, Aunt May. I really did.” He smiled at her and then to himself as he got the rolls from the oven and set the pan on the counter.

Ben snorted, taking a sip of his beer. “Stark’s the lucky one, May-Flower. Pete’s quite the catch. Takes after ‘is uncle.” At Richard’s eye roll, he laughed again. The sound filled Peter’s chest with a fuzzy warmth. “Fine. And his father. Parker men ain’t nothing to mess with.”

“Uh huh, right.” May laughed. “I agree with you on one thing, though. Parker men are definitely something else, that’s for sure,” she teased.

Peter laughed along with them, but it was all beginning to feel uncomfortable on some level. He felt just as empty as he knew the rest of his guests were.

His doppelgänger’s words kept racing through his mind. Beck’s words. (“If you were good enough, maybe Tony would-“)

But he pushed them away, steeling himself and blinking blearily for a few seconds. His gaze locked on the food spread out over the counter. None of that mattered.

He was at dinner with his family. They were all there, happy and healthy. Together, the way it should be. There was nothing that he needed to be worried about.

#starker #peter parker #tony stark #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #B&B write #SbPBP #Peter’s EDITH!verse #starker angst #ironspider #tw gaslighting #tw victim blaming #tw gun mention

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idyllicstarker · 4 years ago

Note

Prompt where tony is pent up and hasn’t come in like two months and is cranky and peter asks him if he needs help relieving his stress (also bottom tony please)

Your wish is my command! This took a much softer route than I originally thought it would. But I still struggle with writing smut, so right now hard smut ain’t the one, but I tried to give you equall parts sexy times, equal parts fluff, and with a bit of angst and grumpy Tony mixed in. But I was proud of it nevertheless, so I hope you like it!

Trigger warning: Implict reference to erectile dysfunction, sexual content, foul language, rimming, age difference (although it isn’t stated peter is 18+ and therefore above the age of consent)

It wasn’t that Tony had an off the charts libido. He didn’t need to constantly have sex to keep himself happy. He didn’t even need to have sex to satisfy his drive - maybe in his youth he was more active in finding partners, but now, a simple solo play was enough to keep him going. He didn’t like hookups anymore, he liked the intimacy of sex not the thrill of one night stands or flings. He didn’t have a partner but that was okay, he was older now, and his hand was enough of a companion until he found someone he did generally want to have sex with. But two months without properly spilling a load proved to be a bigger challenge than Tony would have anticipated.

His sudden abstinence wasn’t a choice. Tony wasn’t exactly insatiable, but every time he tried to ‘get himself going’ nothing happened. It scared him at first, especially since it confirmed that he was at such an age where he couldn’t even get it up anymore. But the problem apparently lay deeper when he could get it up… he just couldn’t get it back down again. Content with the fact that he didn’t need to start buying viagra Tony tried his hardest to do anything at all. But after three days of intense masturbation (he was pretty sure he’d rubbed the entire outer layer of his cock off), he didn’t know how many more cold showers he could take before going into meetings. Once or twice he may have gotten close, but only to produce a dribble of cum which was by far not enough to accommodate for how red and swollen his cock was.

He tried everything he could in his spare time, but his balls were stubborn as ever. Two months on they were still full and only getting fuller.

At this point it was beyond frustrating. Tony didn’t know what to do, and after running out of a meeting and breaking down in the bathroom because the front of his pants were painfully tight, he knew he’d have to do something before his lack of relief killed him. The question was: what was that something supposed to be?

He’d tried his hardest to keep himself occupied. He’d always over-worked himself, but now he was doing double the hours because anything that could take his mind away from how desperate he felt all the time was considered a good thing. Along with that of course came stress, and Tony was exhausted. Pepper definitely took advantage of his new found enthusiasm, ensuring his days were tightly packed. (No pun intended!) The one good thing about this whole drama was the fact that when Tony wasn’t working, he was tinkering in his lab. What else was he supposed to do? He never did have any hobbies. And being in his lab more often, meant that Peter, who had always been eager to spend as much time in there with Tony as he could, finally had more time too. And Tony had always adored the smile on his face as he left the lab after a good few hours of work.

Yet as nice as Tony tried to be these past months, sometimes he let his fatigue and irritation get the better of him and he truly deserved the title of being a bitter old man.

“You can put on some music if you want.”

Peter looked up his laptop, gaze settling on Tony as he gave a tight lipped smile and nodded his head. He was hunched in his chair, evidently trying to make himself seem as small as possible, he didn’t even let a peep out. Even the way his fingers rested on the keyboard - tense, he was too scared to type, out of fear that the clicking of the keys would aggravate Tony into yelling at him again. The guilt that washed over Tony was intense, an emotion that he definitely didn’t need right now with his already overwhelming vexation but he knew he had no one to blame but himself.

He hadn’t meant to snap. It had been a long day and although he promised Peter they could work on some new adjustments to his suit, he just wanted a bit of peace and quiet. Peter, bless his soul, was babbling about his day the moment he walked through the door. And Tony snapped. He knew full well he shouldn’t take his own autonomy problems out on Peter, but as soon as the words left his mouth it was too late.

“Kid, I really don’t care.”

The sight of Peter’s wide eyes as Tony sighed exasperatedly at him would haunt him forever. The hurt didn’t hit him at first, and then suddenly Peter’s gaze flickered down to the tabletop, as he muttered a quiet ‘sorry’ and Tony hadn’t heard him speak since. He’d even quietly taken himself away from the table with the suit, and sat down at his usual seat across the lab. Tony presumed he was working on school work or something, and had of course left Tony to work on the suit alone. He could have been harsher, and Tony thanked whatever filter stopped that from happening. Peter looked like he was on the verge of tears, but still he didn’t make a sound, almost as if he was just trying to disappear completely.

“I’m sorry, Peter, I didn’t mean that. At all. I do care, I really do. I just-“

“It’s okay Mr Stark, I understand. I’ve been told I speak too much sometimes, and I know you’ve been working a lot so this is like your.. free time, and I’m sure you don’t want me ruining that. I’m sorry.”

The repeated apology did nothing for how mad Tony was at himself, and he’d even made the boy think he thought he spoke too much. Honestly Peter’s rambles about his day was what made Tony’s better, and the thought that maybe he’d never get to hear them again was horrifying.

He offered for Peter to put on music, hopefully it would be a cause of distraction and Tony didn’t have to sit in silence with his thoughts. But of course there came no verbal reply.

“What about that story, you were telling me, you should finish it. I was quite intrigued”, he offered instead. Of course it was all a little hypocritical and by the way Peter raised an eyebrow he noticed it too.

“It was just stupid Mr Stark. I’m sure you wouldn’t care”, he muttered quietly, finally raising his gaze all the way to look Tony in the eyes.

At a loss, Tony deflated, sitting back in his chair. “Alright”, he simply replied, because what else was he supposed to do? He was too exhausted to even fix what he’d done. Eyes closed, he pulled the glasses off his face and set them down, before massaging the bridge of his nose. His skin was oily with sweat, and as it collected on his fingers, he grimaced, shaking his head. He didn’t know how he managed to get himself into this position, but he knew it started with the fact that he was too horny for his own good. He was at a point where he didn’t even care how mean he was being, and was two seconds away from dismissing Peter with a sorry excuse that he didn’t feel well, until he felt two small hands rest on his shoulders.

His eyes snapped open, but he knew even before he did that it was Peter.

Skilled hands worked silently at the knots in his shoulders, and Tony let out a grunt. A snicker sounded from above him, and even Tony couldn’t stop himself from letting out a small laugh.

“This funny to you Pete?”, he asked, his tone amused but his voice was hoarse because the small hands were strong and they definitely knew what they were doing.

He didn’t exactly get a reply to his question, but he did hear a hesitant sigh from the younger male. It was almost as if he was thinking carefully about whether to say what was actually on his mind.

“I know better than to let your snapping get at me”, he eventually said. Although Tony couldn’t see it, he could hear the smile in his voice, and as a spur of the moment decision, he rested his head back against Peter’s stomach. The boy didn’t seem to mind, letting go of his shoulders to instead thread his fingers through Tony’s hair. “It isn’t the first time, and I know you’ve been stressed lately. I have every right to call you a cranky old man and get offended, but I know there’s something deeper going on there because Happy tells me all the time that you repeat everything I say, back to him, with frightening enthusiasm, to use his wording. So I know you do care, deep down”, he muttered gently, fingertips dancing across his scalp.

Tired eyes opened to meet Peter’s gentle ones. He probably should have been more mad at Happy than he actually felt, but the fact that it did make him smile was a win. “So what are you saying?”, he asked after a moment. “Have you been searching up old people’s homes to send me too because you’ve finally had enough of my bullshit?”

Peter smirked, and rolled his eyes. “Not yet, but you should watch your mouth because the next time you upset me it’s going to be the first thing I do”, he answered.

As Tony laughed, he made an attempt to pull away, but Peter didn’t let him. In fact he tugged on Tony's hair to prevent it. That wasn’t the problem, it was an innocent tug, but the moan that Tony emitted from the feeling wasn’t so innocent.

Both turned equally red. Tony at having such a reaction from so little stimulation (especially since said stimulation was from his much younger partner) and Peter at being able to elicit such a reaction. Tony shot up, and Peter actually let go this time. But he wasn’t going to let go of the moment as easily as he did his head.

“Mr Stark, when was the last time you had sex?”, he questioned. Tony choked on the water he’d sipped to try and calm the heat that had spread across his face, which apparently was useless after being asked such an obscene and blunt question, especially when the question was asked so casually and with such a sweet voice.

“Excuse me”, he squeaked, still riding the aftershocks of almost dying, but Peter still stood beside him, not concerned but clearly amused. More than anything though, he seemed concerned. He wanted to help.

“I’m not saying I know for definite that you’re sexually frustrated Mr Stark, but it would explain why you’ve been… frustrated for a number of weeks now. And I guess, I have to say it now: You’re not exactly the best at knowing when someone else is entering the lab, especially when you’re focused. And all I’m saying is that if I’ve walked in on you three times.. doing the you know what, and each time you never finished-”

“Kid, you’re killing me”

Peter laughed softly, looking down at Tony with a gentle expression. “It’s not my fault you’re not the best at knowing when someone comes into the lab when you’re focused. And you were very focused.”

“And you just decided to watch then?”

“I like to call it: waiting for the best time to make my presence known.”

Tony sighed, raising a hand to his head and kneading his first into his temple. “Well I’ve definitely fucked up then. God, why didn’t you tell me”, he groaned.

There was a moment of silence between them. Until finally Peter opened his mouth. He was shifting nervously, like he always did when he asked Tony for something. But this time it was more about giving, more than anything. And that was far worse, than anything he could ask for.

“You know Mr Stark, if you need help-”

“Nope! No, absolutely not”, Tony’s reply was adamant and he was already standing up from the chair. He made his way across the lab, shaking his head adamantly.

“You didn’t even let me finish”, Peter pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. It surprisingly wasn’t enough to deter him from saying anything else. Any other time and he may have ran out of the room mortified at being rejected. But this was different.

“I’m not going to let you do anything for me, because you feel bad that I can’t even help myself out. It’s fine, I’ve gotten through it this long, I’ll get myself out of it somehow. I’m not some sort of sicko and I refuse to let you do anything”

“I think your ego is getting in the way of your common sense”, Peter replied, hands gripping onto the chair that Tony had just vacated. The male looked over, and observed him, and he couldn’t help but think what those knuckles would look like gripping onto the sheets.

“Fuck”, he muttered to himself, turning his head away.

“What was that?”, Peter asked innocently, a sweet little smirk on his face as if he knew. As Tony didn’t reply, he continued: “as I was saying, all I was going to ask is if I could, help relieve any of that stress?”, he asked coyly.

Tony scoffed, shaking his head. “Peter, you know what you’re doing”, he corrected, making his way back over to the chair. “Can we just finish the suit please? I don’t know how I didn’t scar you when you caught me. Three… oh hell, three god damn times. Why you’d want to expose yourself to that more I have no idea”, he rambled, sitting in his chair heavily.

“You’re infuriating”, Peter mumbled. It all happened so quickly, a hand on Tony’s wrist was pulling him up and suddenly Peter’s lips was on his. It was a heavy kiss, hot with passion and desire, and Tony melted there and then. He grunted at the suddenness of it, but of course, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted or needed more. Peter’s hands were on his ass, squeezing and kneading at it. The room was hot in itself but with their bodies pushed against each other, the fire in the room was dangerous.

Tony’s hips thrusted forward, desperate to find friction until he was practically humping at Peter’s thigh. He was whimpering softly, and it was in that moment in which Peter realised just how needy he actually was. He decided he didn’t want to tease him too much - even after all the horrible things he may have said the past few months when he was in his grumpy moods. It wasn’t worth it, not when he knew Tony was so desperate.

Moving to undo Tony’s jeans, and pull them down along with his boxers, he laughed quietly hearing the man mumble that this “seemed wrong.”

“You want it don’t you?”, he reassured, looking up at him with a calm expression. He didn’t want to do this if Tony generally didn’t feel like this was the best thing to help him. But by the look on his face, and the small nod, Peter knew that meant, give it a try. And he definitely would.

Finally, now that he could focus, he pulled down the boxers that were stuck to Tony’s skin and gasped quietly as his cock bounced out, and hit across his stomach. “Has it been like this for a while?”, he asked sympathetically, taking in how desperate it was. It was practically bulging, steaming red, and already leaking pre cum onto Tony’s stomach.

“Two months”, he admitted.

Peter nodded and stretched out a hand, wrapping his fist around it. But he frowned as Tony seemed to have no reaction. Surely with how sensitive it looked, a simple brush with a finger would elicit some sort of moan. He looked up to Tony, as he began to pump him slowly, but Tony only groaned softly.

“I think I’m broken”, he admitted.

How devastated he sounded had Peter laughing. He probably shouldn’t but it was impossible not too. “You’re not broken, you just need a bit of human touch that’s all”, Peter said softly.

“Look at you Mr. know it all”

“Shush”

Peter rose to his feet once again, gently lifting Tony onto the table with a small smirk. “I’m stronger than I look you know”, he laughed, at Tony’s bewildered expression. “You know I don’t think I’ve ever told you, but I’m really attracted to you Mr. Stark”, he told him softly, as he knelt down. Hooking his arms under his thighs he pulled his legs onto his shoulders and hummed softly as he caught sight of Tony’s opening.

“You are?”

“Of course. I’m pretty sure everyone is”, he didn’t really give much of a space to dwell on that, before his head came forward and his tongue lapped gently at his opening.

Tony let out a staggered breath and Peter smirked slightly at his reaction. “Fuck Peter”, he muttered, hips slightly lifting off the table but Peter was quick to hold them back down.

He didn’t bother to say anything, continuing to lap at Tony’s wet hole, hands massaging at his thighs. Tony was withering and Peter couldn’t believe it had taken the man so long to cum when he was shaking at a single touch. Although Tony wasn’t completely tight, Peter found out, when he moved a finger to break past the ring of muscle. So Tony had clearly tried. But as Peter had said, he just needed some human touch. He spat against the eager hole that was now clenching around his finger, relishing in Tony’s whines.

“You’re doing so well for me Mr Stark”, he whispered softly, wide and sweet eyes looking up at the withering man, which Tony concluded should be a sin considering his finger was pumping in and out of his hole.

“Fuck, Peter, please. Please I need more”, he begged, hips rutting against his hand as he threw his head back.

Peter kept to his internal promise of not teasing him. Pulling out his finger only to completely devour his hole. Tony’s hands tugged at his hair, yelling out as Peter lapped at him. When he figured that would be enough spit to reduce any discomfort, Peter pulled away, licking at his lips. “You taste really good Mr Stark”, he muttered innocently, as two fingers breached his hole to scissor him open.

He wasn’t sure if Tony couldn’t speak because this was the first real pleasure he’d felt in so long, or if this is what he was usually like, but either way, Peter loved it. Tony was a sight to remember. Fingers scratching at the table, trying to grab onto anything he could hold onto; body shaking and soft moans falling from his parted lips. His head was thrown back and eyes closed, and Peter was sure he’d never seen a sexier sight. Two fingers turned into three, and Tony was begging.

“Please Peter, I need you so bad. Please, I can’t, I’m so close”, he scrambled over his words.

“You need what Mr Stark?”

“You, fuck, Peter please I need you.”

If Tony had been more aware of anything other than the burning in his lower stomach, he may have gushed at the adorable sound of the giggle that emitted from Peter. How he managed to stay so cute, while making a valiant attempt at dominating Tony.

As the boy stood, he had a soft smile on his lips. “I wish you could see how sexy you look right now Mr Stark”, came his passive statement, gently pulling Tony to the edge of the table by his thighs. “It’s like I can see the stress just completely diminishing - a job well done by me if I do say so myself”, he hummed. He was far from cocky but in that moment Tony knew he was fairly arrogant of the fact that he’d managed to reduce his mentor to such a state. Especially after he’d admitted he hadn’t been able to for a while. But Tony didn’t have it in him to feel taken aback by the confidence, it was sexy, and anything to help the pent up stress and energy that plagued him, he’d take again and again.

Peter leaned in to press a kiss to Tony’s lips, as if sensing his wandering brain. “Hey there big boy, I’m trying to help you out here. The least you can do is act like you’re enjoying it”, he muttered softly.

Tony frowned slightly, gaze searching over Peter’s. He was surprised to see that along with his genuine sympathy for Tony’s problems (and aside from the darkened lust) that Peter held all the affection that Tony believed was saved for a lover or something of the sort. He let out a soft sigh, moving to wrap his arms around Peter’s neck, unconsciously rocking his hips forward against Peter’s clothed crotch. He moaned softly as his own manhood rubbed invitingly against what he only presumed was the hardness of Peter’s bulge. “I am enjoying it”, he shivered, lips pressing against the smooth dip of his neck, mouthing at the salty sheen across Peter’s skin. His breathing was staggered with need, and by the way Peter’s adam’s apple bobbed against his nose, he knew he was just as eager as Tony. They rocked together, Peter mouthing wet open-mouthed kisses at Tony’s temple, whilst the man himself shuddered, fanning his warm breath against Peter’s skin.

“Pants. Off!” Tony demanded.

Peter groaned softly in response, letting go of Tny long enough to pull down his own sweatpants and underwear. Tony wasn’t sure what he was expecting in terms of Peter’s endowment. But when a hefty length sprang out and hit across his own thigh, already hard and bulging, Tony knew it put his own to shame. The build up of saliva in his mouth at the mere sight was incriminating. He didn’t look away until he felt a finger under his chin, forcing his head to look up at a very red Peter.

“The spider bite… altered a few things”, he explained, he almost sounded embarrassed about it.

“Fuck me Peter, literally, please, I need that.” Tony’s wide eyes showed he was more than happy to see such a sight, just slightly shocked.

“Someone’s whiny, gosh Tony”, Peter teased, his confidence once again returning as he pulled Tony closer, their chest pressed against each other as he moved for a kiss. Their shirts were sticky on their bodies, and their pants hung heavily at their ankles, but all Tony could focus was getting that inside him.

“Fuck you”, Tony muttered against his lips, eliciting a smirk from the younger male.

“I think you mean fuck me”, he hummed, lining himself up at Tony’s newly opened entrance.

Tony mumbled something under his breath, but had already burrowed his head into the crook of Peter’s neck. His arms were clutching at his back, pulling on the shirt material with such an animalistic strength that any harder and may have ripped it.

As Peter pushed in, he wailed. Not in a necessarily pained way, but a wail of relief. He’d needed this, and now that he’d finally gotten it, he was in such a state of euphoria that his body was tingling. Peter’s hand came to rest on his hip, and the touch burned his skin in the most inviting way. The stretch of his cock inside his hole ached - he felt like he was seconds from splitting apart as Peter pushed in, but it was the best type of feeling. A pain that had him crying out for more, never wanting it to stop. A choked breath fell from his lips, shuddering at the sound of Peter’s heavy breathing until finally he bottomed out. Simultaneously they both let out a sigh of utter relief.

As Peter rocked his hips, Tony threw his head back, eyes closed as he clutched and scratched at Peter’s skin where his hands had found their way under his shirt. Everything was so hot and frantic but he wouldn’t have liked it any other way. This is exactly what he’d needed after so long of being starved of the feeling of being full to the brim.

Their bodies moved together in sync, Peter thrusting in and out with such a skilled and knowledgeable pattern that Tony very almost grew jealous at the thought of how many times he must have done this. A hand pulled at the hairs at the nape of his neck, and the other was keeping his hips at the table, asserting complete and utter dominance and Tony was more than willing to submit. It didn’t matter what partners Peter had in the past, because tonight, Tony was his. Between the sounds of his moans as Peter slammed into him and the boy’s own as Tony clenched perfectly around his width, the quiet mantra of Tony’s soft whimpers of ‘mine’ very almost went unnoticed.

Almost.

“What was that Mr Stark?”, Peter breathed against his ear, the cockiness in his voice revealing that he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Mine! Fuck your mine Peter. Mine. Fuck, please, don’t stop. I’m so close”, he babbled all at once. He almost didn’t recognise his own voice with how needy he was being. He’d like to put it down to the fact that finally he was going to get what he needed; but deep down he knew by his own possessiveness that he never wanted this to stop - ever!

Considering he’d found it so hard to reach a high for the past two months, Tony was ready to blow already. But he certainly wasn’t complaining, just the feeling of being full to the hilt of something real had already taken the edge off.

As Peter’s thrusts grew shallower, it was pretty obvious that he was just as close as Tony. The boy’s hand wrapped around the older male’’s leaking cock, thumb rubbing over the slit in a persuasive action to encourage it to let go, finally to take what it needed. A surprisingly affectionate gaze never left Tony’s face, totally stuck on the way it was scrunched in immense pleasure. It was a beautiful sight and Peter wished he got to see it more often. He had a lazy smile on his lips that only grew when he saw that Tony was on the brink.

“It’s okay, come for me Mr Stark. Give me it, I want it so bad”, he whispered, his hand pumping his cock and squeezing at just the right moment when he hit Tony’s prostate again and again.

Tony couldn’t help but let go. He came with a loud yell, his whole body rushing full of warmth, as his sight turned white from the sheer intensity of it. He was mumbling curses, body trembling, totally out of it, but Peter’s strong arms found their way around him to hold him up in his weakness. There were a couple more thrusts before he felt Peter spill inside of him.

When he gained more conscious bearings, he was still bundled into Peter’s arms, both still naked and sweaty, both with their clothes hanging off them. Peter had pulled out and Tony could feel his release leaking from his hole, but the younger male was gently rubbing his back, Tony’s legs around his waist and head buried in his chest. “You did so well for me Tony, i’m so proud of you”, he was muttering sweetly, nose burrowing into his hair. It was the most love Tony had felt in a long while.

As he raised his head, he realised his once painfully full cock was laying limp between his thighs. It took him a moment before he realised that the extremely excessive amount of cum across both his and Peter’s stomach was all his own - no wonder it had been so painful.

“There we go, doesn’t that feel so much better Mr Stark?”, Peter asked him “I was surprised to see you cum so much, but I guess it was necessary. I’m sure it feels better now tho, right?”, he questioned hopefully. Again with the innocent act, wide, slightly insecure eyes met his. But as they did, Peter moved his finger to scoop up some of Tony’s release. Without even a second thought he lifted it to his lips and began to suck it off as if it was some kind of lollipop. The boy moaned quietly at the taste as he looked up at him, smiling sweetly.

Tony at a loss of words could only simply nod at Peter’s question.

The boy giggled, raising an eyebrow cheekily. “Must have been good, you can’t even speak. Was my dick too bomb Mr Stark?”, he questioned.

Tony knew that was some kind of pop culture reference he definitely wouldn’t understand. He peered over Peter bemused. “I don’t even know what that means”, he muttered.

Peter sighed happily and leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Don’t worry about it”, he reassured, hands stroking at Tony’s thighs. “I’m glad I could help you… relieve stress”, he hummed, laughing at the end part because of course he’d done much more than that. “I just hope you know this means you’re never getting rid of me now. You’re stuck with me. I wasn’t lying about that attraction thing. And if you want… i’d like to help you relieve stress more often”, he finished, gaze downcast as if scared for the reply. This time he actually was fearful of rejection.

Tony didn’t know how he could ever really reject him. Pushing aside the fact that he’d just given him the best dick in his life, Tony couldn’t deny he’d always taken a liking towards the boy. He was both attracted to him physically, but also inspired by his intelligence and adored his personality. He didn’t realise that as he’d planned to spend the rest of his life with him, by having him work with him… he was actually just trying to keep Peter close because he enjoyed being around him.

“I think I’m gonna have to keep you around for more than just stress relief”, Tony confirmed, his gaze soft as he regained the strength to gently take Peter’s waist and pull him in for another kiss.

The grin on the boy’s face as they pulled away was totally worth it. “Thank you Mr Stark. I think we should probably go take a shower. You made us a little messy.”

“We can shower. But Peter, really, if we’re gonna start doing this properly. You gotta stop calling me Mr Stark.”

“Okay… Mr Stark”.

“Peter!”,

“Sorry…”

Tag list: @itsmexavie @icandoakickflip

#starker #starker fanfiction #tony stark #peter parker #tony stark x peter parker #ironspider #skylar writes #bottom!tony #top!peter

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aros001 · 3 years ago

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Going in blind: Watching season 5 for the first time. Random thoughts.

Episode 1: Well...that dinner got dark. From what other fans have told me apparently Glimmer gets a lot of hate for her decisions during the series and I just find that odd. I was more annoyed with her in the early seasons where her actions were more harmless simply because she had no patience and wouldn't listen because of her immaturity. Season 4 and here though? Even her most reckless and risky actions have at least been fueled by the genuine desire to keep people safe during a very hard situation. Even here, yeah, she tells Prime something it's very bad for him to know but he was going to have Adora and everyone else literally murdered before her eyes if she didn't. I can't really be mad at Glimmer for making a bad choice when it flows logically and fueled by the desire to keep the people she cares about from being slaughtered.

I don't think we've ever seen Catra this completely at the mercy of another person before, save maybe for Shadow Weaver when she was a child. She has nothing to offer that Prime doesn't already possess. Nothing he wants that he can't get for himself. Her relationship with everyone these past few seasons have been either "I'm your commander and you have to do what I say" or "You are my commander and here's the reason you have to keep me around". This time she has nothing to protect herself behind and the only reason she's still around is because Prime might think of a use for her later.

I love having Scorpia on the heroes' side.

Episode 2: That ending though.

I think what helps elevate Entrapta for me and keeps her for being annoying or irritating is that the show really sells that she just genuinely has trouble understanding why she should/shouldn't be doing certain things. It's not stupidity or even pure self-absorption, she just struggles with people and social ques while machines and science is a lot more straightforward. Heck, she was probably able to bond so well with Hordak because work together in the lab was them meeting on a common middle ground she could understand and relax in. The way she's trying to overcome the issue to help save Glimmer reminds me a little of Mob from Mob Psycho 100, feeling a little frustrated in not understanding something that she knows she should be.

Episode 3: Anybody else get a Disney's Hercules vibes at the end there?

Catra: "Besides, O Oneness, you can't beat her! She has no weaknesses! She's gonna kick your...!"

Prime, smiling: "I think she does, little sister." [Strokes Catra's hair] "I truly think...she does."

This episode really sold how completely isolated Catra is. With the sole exception of Glimmer, she's in space, no idea where exactly she is, onboard a ship filled with nothing but Prime and hundreds of cultist clones. Throughout the entire series we've seen Catra push everyone away and now that she's in a situation where she is almost well and truly on her own with no power, freedom, or authority, she seeks out the one other person around to find any sense of comfort in. Despite everything, Catra doesn't like being alone.

Little child Catra lashing out because she didn't want Adora to have any friends other than her kind of reminds me of Glimmer and Bow during the Princess Prom episode. I imagine it's the same mentality. Growing up in isolation, even if in different forms, and finding only that one person they feel thay can really lean on, there is that fear that they'll find someone else they like more and start caring about them less, or even outright stop. The difference is Bow set Glimmer straight, assuring her he'll always be her friend no matter what but he's not going to be just solely dedicated to her. Her fear was understandable but she was not respecting him as a friend either. Adora never really had that with Catra, one because she was much younger and less mature than Bow, and Catra was probably all she had too, to an extent. As we saw season 1, she was always trying to look after her, even when Catra needed to take responsibility for herself. Bow is not Glimmer's keeper, while Adora too often was that for Catra, so Bow and Glimmer have a better foundation of mutual respect while Adora and Catra's dynamic has been really screwed up for a long time.

Kind of tying into that, despite all that's happened between them, the minute Adora hears Catra's in distress she starts panicking and tearing up. The last time they saw each other they were very much enemies and Adora was done reaching her hand out to her. I suppose you could make the argument she's really been hoping all this time that Catra would finally do the right thing for once, just probably didn't expect it to be like this.

Prime better not mind wipe Catra like he did Hordak.

Episode 4: See, calling the heroes the rebellion now makes sense since they are rebelling against the established power, which is Prime.

Love that trick with the reflections, where you can sort of see/sort of can't see She-Ra. A nice little tease for what I imagine will be a big reveal later.

I really like that explanation for what Bow's going through. Last season's finale was the last he'd seen Glimmer and was desperately trying to save her, and he's been consistently worried for her since then. Now that she's safe he's starting to let himself process his other emotions towards her, and I totally get it. It's hard to be mad at someone when you're also terrified over what might be happening to them, even if your anger is justified. While I get why Glimmer last season did what she thought she had to, it was still a big risk that Bow warned her about and she didn't listen, putting them all in danger. This situation and Glimmer's words is a very mature way of handle this topic. He's not wrong for being mad and it's not a contradiction to what we've been seeing from him this season. Humans and emotions are complicated.

Episode 5: SHE HAS PAAAAAAAAANTS!!! (I will miss the cape though)

That almost makes up for them cutting Catra hair. Seriously, that mane was beautiful!

But boy, speaking of Hercules, that return of She-Ra definitely felt like Hercules emerging from the pool of souls to save Meg.

With the one clone being disconnected from the hive mind and having a breakdown over it, that does make me wonder if Hordak has been connected to it. Wasn't he deemed a defect because Prime couldn't connect to his mind? I suppose it's possible that flaw was corrected. Clearly Prime can take over minds other than just his clones, like with Catra. But if he could do that I'm wondering why he just didn't when Hordak was first created and he instead cast him out to Etheria.

Was Catra purring at the end? I swear there was a sound that sounded like purring.

Episode 6: Assimilation is easily one of my biggest fears in fiction, be it zombies, Borgs and Cybermen, Get Out, the freaking Sapphire Dragon from Xiaolin Showdown that scared the hell out of me as a kid! Just the concept of having your free will and autonomy completely ripped away from you, potentially with you still being aware but unable to do anything about it, is horrifying! At least with Prime's chips the process is reversible.

Anyway, in lighter plots, I kind of love Wrong Hordak. He's really funny. I feel bad that he's being deliberately misled, but he really shouldn't be following Prime anyway, so...

I do like that Adora is being a little more tough on Catra. She needs kindness, yes, but she also needs honesty and discipline, the kind that has actual love and care behind it, unlike what she got from Shadow Weaver. Adora is genuinely trying to help so Catra needs to stop acting like a brat and LET HER HELP.

Episode 7: Catra was definitely purring.

I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume people probably ship Scorpia and Perfuma. Not that I have any problem with that. It's like the Midoriya/Todoroki ship; I don't ship it myself but I totally get why others do. It's a relationship based in mutual respect and one of the characters having a significantly positive effect on the life of the other. As long as the shipper themselves is not horrifically toxic, I don't care.

Also, I don't think I've ever been so intimidated by Mermista before than I was with that one shot of her in silhouette, just before the reveal she was chipped.

Episode 8: Okay, I definitely love Wrong Hordak. Just that realization of his. "Horde Prime...lied to us..." There's just something about it that's so full of character. Obviously he's a brainwashed clone but he was truly devoted to Prime and just to find out that he would keep something so big from them, from the hive mind that's supposed to be so open to him and each other, it destroys everything he ever believed in. It's hilarious to watch him prepare to lead his brothers in a revolt against Prime.

I assume magic is Prime's "weakness" in that he himself cannot control it. Obviously he can control magical beings like Spinnerella and have them use magic but magic itself is too free and too powerful for him to contain and fully fight back against. He's all about order and stillness and magic is basically chaos.

Episode 9: I like to believe the mushroom kingdom they saved is a Mario reference.

Something I like in hero stories is "the power of a name" or "the power of a symbol". Something as simple as Superman's S-shield can have so much weight and meaning behind it just because of the person it's tied to. She-Ra isn't just a powerful warrior to the people of Etheria, she's a hero of legend. We saw it touched on even back in season 1 how much Adora returning She-Ra to the world meant to everyone. She-Ra to them is a symbol of hope. If they have her on their side, then they believe they might be able to win and with that ordinary people can find the strength to fight too. It's something I think the Green Lantern put best with how the Blue Rings of hope supercharge the Green Rings of will but lose a lot of their functions when the greens are not around. Hope is useless if you don't have the will to also act, but in turn hope can give people the will to act. The more hope they have that they can win, the more they will fight to win.

That was the nerdiest comparison I've ever made.

Episode 10: I appreciate a good bad dad joke and that's why I can't approve of "punderstand". It's too much of stretch to flow well. "Ruined" was good though.

I'm less surprised that Scorpia's been chipped and more that she's even alive. She was at the bottom of the ocean when the roof broke and she's a scorpion woman. I don't think water is a very friendly element for her. She's even commented on how good the desert was to her.

I wonder her She-Ra mode is not working for her simply because Adora is exhausted; mentally and physically. I don't think she's ever used the form this continuously before, and she's been doing it without the First Ones' sword that she has experience with. Her new sword and its transformations may be made out of her own energy for all we know. And then there's just the emotional toil of having Catra back in her life while it feels like more and more of the world is being turned against her.

Episode 11: Oh, I'm definitely shipping Hordak and Entrapta.

I think Re:Zero has spoiled me on dark magic. While Micah with his dark magic is a threat, in this show and many others dark magic basically just equates to "spooky, evil, bad stuff" magic that isn't that different from most other kinds of magic other than being either harder to control or more geared towards causing harm. In Re:Zero, dark magic was DARK. It felt unnatural, like a perversion of how their world's magic is supposed to be and that it didn't belong in this reality. Micah's dark magic is basically "I'm attacking you with shadows, oOoOoOo so scary!"

Not really surprised Catra left. She just got Adora back and now she's potentially about to let herself die. Perfuma said it best, letting people in and letting herself be vulnerable is hard. Caring about Adora and watching her die would be a huge blow, so Catra would rather curl back up into her shell and block out Adora again than have to risk taking that hit.

Episode 12: I keep saying it but now having them right next to each other, yeah, Mara's She-Ra outfit is better than Adora's. I don't know, there's just something grander about it. Anyway, on topic, I'm a big fan of superheroes and legacy and all that and I really like Mara's words to Adora. All she did and sacrificed was so that others, especially the next She-Ra, wouldn't have to do the same. It doesn't matter how noble and heroic it is, tragedy is tragedy and anyone who knows that kind of pain doesn't want anyone else to have to go through it.

I'm not surprised by the love confession between Glimmer and Bow. I felt it could go either way with them either hooking up or just staying really good friends, but that in itself is a sign of how good and natural their friendship is. I can easily buy how it would evolve into something more between them. The situation they're in probably helps. When Glimmer was taken they both thought they might never see each other again and that fear and worry probably caused them to reevaluate how they feel about the other. They've been clinging to each other since getting back, as every day could be their last. Something like that is naturally going to push two people together.

Episode 13: So...are there any plans for a season 6? Or a comic continuation like Avatar and Korra got? Because this was a good finale...buuuuuuuuut I feel there are definitely some things that needed a bit more exploration.

This is typically why I like stories with epilogue endings, especially those set some number of years in the future. Little glimpses of what everyone's doing now, allowing the audience to fill in for themselves what happened in-between. There's nothing wrong with this episode but it does just kind of...stop. They beat Prime. Everybody's cheering and happy. Adora suggests they bring magic back to the universe. And...that's it. We don't see anything more. No aftermath, no post-war, nothing. We end on the moment of victory, and while it's not a bad moment it leaves the ending feeling a little incomplete.

It kind of feels like the writers either really had to rush to the ending to make the 13 episode deadline or simply didn't want to address whatever happens with Catra and Hordak now. With the bigger threat of Horde Prime it makes sense why everyone puts aside past issues and works together. But now that the crisis is over, naturally everyone would have to address everything the Horde had done to Etheria for years with Hordak and Catra leading it. Don't get me wrong, I believe that Catra loves Adora, I believe Adora loves her, and I believe Catra wants to be a better person. It's not like I'm saying she needs to be locked up or executed. But she did cause a lot of damage and put Adora especially through hell, and just because Shadow Weaver is the one who screwed her up so bad doesn't mean she doesn't have any responsibility for her own actions. So it just would have been nice to get even a little bit of lip service to show that Catra would be trying to right her wrongs from this point forward, instead of just "Prime's gone, everyone's happy, bye!" At least with Entrapta she seemed to genuinely not understand why what she was doing at the time was wrong and Scorpia, like Adora and Huntara, defected from the Horde to do the right thing despite it being even more part of her upbringing than anyone else. I can't even imagine what happens with Hordak now.

Don't get me wrong, this is far from the worst I've ever seen a redemption handled. I haven't read/watched any of Boruto outside of the movie and Gaiden tie-in but I've read all of Naruto and there is no reason that Orochimaru should just be walking around and casually talking with people after all he's done. Kaiba in the Yu-Gi-Oh manga built an entire theme park to try an murder Yugi and his friends and they bring it up like twice after that arc. Kylo Ren turning back to the light was one of the potential paths for his character, so that made sense in TROS, but they essentially did "He died heroically and therefore totally redeemed himself for every terrible thing he's ever done."; basically a cop-out. Catra's alive and can at least potentially still own up to her actions and work to redeem herself. And I love Steven Universe, but kind of like with Catra nearly killing everyone (including herself) via the unstable portal, fans have naturally pointed out that the Diamonds enslaved and committed genocide on multiple planets and really faced no consequences for that other than "Stop it". Catra's not at the gold standard of redemption stories, which for me is probably Zuko and Endeavor, but she's far from the bottom. I think the best way to describe it is that Catra had as good, if not better, reasons for being so bad and screwed up as Zuko did, just as good step-up for turning good as Zuko did, but she didn't have nearly as much payoff afterwards to make it feel like a full journey like Zuko did.

But enough about all that. Love the basically goddess She-Ra Adora became. Given the emphasis on healing powers with She-Ra we've had, I'm guessing that's essentially how she destroyed Prime. She purified Hordak and Prime was basically an infection within him. I like when heroes snatch victory from the jaws of defeat but I also when there's an implication towards the villain that "Wow. I never stood a chance." She-Ra's power just dwarfs his. Full potential realized by Adora and he was just gone.

Also I don't know how I forgot that Prime could jump into the bodies of his clones but his possession of Hordak got me. I genuinely couldn't think of how he'd survive after Hordak shoved him off the edge (set free by the power of love!).

And even if the ending feels a little incomplete, the episode itself still did well with my emotional investment. I was gripped by during Catra's confession and the tension within the heart.

Season 5 and overall series verdict: I'm very glad I saw this series. Even though its ending falls a little short for me, this was still really good. Seasons 3 was probably my favorite overall but this story had a very good flow to it. It steadily built up bigger each season, with Catra and Hordak being really compelling villains driving the whole thing. Not that Prime was bad. He was a genuine threat and his cult of clones is a good creepy concept. He's just not as good as the other two. I'm sure part of what elevates him up is because I'm thinking of the JL director's cut but Hordak really is just better Steppenwolf. Everything that worked about that character, Hordak is that to an 11.

Given how I've talked about her more than any of the others, Catra is probably my favorite character. Just the damage that girl has been through. I always understood why she was doing what she did, even though there was rarely a moment I'd agree with exactly what she was doing. Again, it's one of the reasons it feels like the series just kind of ended. There's a lot to be seen with Catra's character now, a lot that can be done, and it just feels like a shame to really not show any of it. This isn't a fault of SRPOP itself because so many series, especially animated and anime, are guilty of but it always bugs me when a series ends on two characters hooking. Relationships are interesting, I'd argue more so than the build-up to them, but no writer ever wants to actually explore them after the hook-up. I never cared about Korra and Mako being a couple but I still found their relationship as a couple more interesting and character building than any of the will they/won't they build-up to it. And I actually like the idea of Adora and Catra as a couple. It's a big reason why I'm so happy the Harley Quinn animated series got renewed for a third season, as it otherwise would have just ended on a hook-up between two characters who, like Adora and Catra, love each other but have had a complicated dynamic for a while. I believe Adora and Catra love each other, but they've got a lot of stuff to work out and I want to see that! Catra's got abandonment issues and that in turn caused her to be unhealthily possessive over Adora. Just seeing the two of them try to work through that alone would be fascinating.

Like I suspected early on, Scorpia's my favorite supporting character. Entrapta's a decent 2nd. Took a small dip when it seemed like she was joining the Horde over feeling abandoned by the princesses when they thought she was dead but that picked back up once it was made more clear "Oh, okay, you're not being petty or stupid. You genuinely don't understand." It made her a more interesting character, and I love her and Hordak's relationship.

Least favorite characters...probably Sea Hawk and those three former Horde friends of Adora and Catra. I never hated them but I never cared about what was happening when they were on screen. They fill out the world a bit, they drive the plot, they're not wastes of space, they even get some laughs. There are just so many other characters in the series way more interesting than them.

Biggest surprise for me was definitely Glimmer and Bow. I never thought I'd dislike them but the best friends characters in series like this can kind of go one way or another with how relevant or deep they are. Glimmer especially I was surprised how much I was invested. She really grew a lot as a person throughout the series and I thought the dilemma over the Heart of Etheria was a good one.

Honestly there's a lot more I could talk about but I have only so many words and my thoughts are a jumble right now so I'm going to leave it at that. I will say I really appreciate how supportive you all on this Reddit have been. It's something I hate about some other fandoms I'm in where they basically are so toxic that they make no one else actually want to watch/read the thing they're fans of because they can't help but associate it with them.

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/PrincessesOfPower/comments/o2p6wq/going_in_blind_watching_season_5_for_the_first/

#she ra #she ra spop #random thoughts #reddit repost

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capricornus-rex · 4 years ago

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Someone Left to Save (8)

Cal Kestis x Reader

Requested by Anon

Summary: The Mantis crew arrives to the capital of Ulfin, in the planet of Pevera, under siege. They meet the local rebel cell spearheaded by the former Republic admiral, Jax Beneb, who seeks to destroy the Empire’s occupation that was aggressively imposed upon while exploiting the planet of its natural resources. A plan is devised to destroy the Imperial’s main base of operations—as well as their influence—in the planet; however, it was a do-or-die mission that you and Cal had gotten yourselves caught in.

A/N: My computer just died on me twice now. Whatever bullshit it’s trying to do, it’s not helping my anxiety at all lmao I’m just outliving its usefulness until it actually dies for good... that is until I get a new SSD and HDD.

Tags: Force-Sensitive! Reader, Inquisitor! Reader, Jedi! Reader, Fake Death, Jedi turned Inquisitor, Seduction to the Dark Side, Turn to the Dark Side, The Dark Side of the Force, Aftermath of Torture, Torture, Psychological Torture, Redemption Arc! Reader, Possible Redemption, Premonitions

Also in AO3

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 | Previous: Part 7 | Next: Part 9 | Masterlist

8 of ?

“Hey, get up! It’s time for your daily exercise,” a Stormtrooper grumbled on the other side of the ray-shielded prison cell.

You sit there inside—eyes closed, in a meditation position on your knees, hands on top of them. Purposefully ignoring the guards, they tagged you as stubborn, dismissive, and ignorant. They can’t comprehend how you’re perfectly unmoved by the shouting and the banging of their weapons against the walls to draw your attention.

You can hear them, alright. You just chose not to listen.

A lie. Your mind spoke.

Ever since they saw your display against the Second Brother, the so-called “daily exercise” is a kind word they used for the gladiatorial training they throw you into. Everyday, they’d force you out of your cell—which, ironically, is the safest place you could ever be in this predicament—and each time you resisted, a strike on the head or the first body part they see is what you get in return. Once in the dojo, you face a wave of enemies; at first it was a batch of Scout Troopers—they were quite easy to fight—next they started mixing it up with Scout and Purge Troopers, and eventually they used Purge Troopers for your duels, the latter persisted for the rest of your days in the prison.

Sometimes no one knows who is whose training dummies—regardless, the fights went on and the Purge Troopers treated it like a breath of fresh air every time.

“HEY!” the Stormtrooper, impatient of your unresponsiveness, punched the wall at you. Your reaction defeated its purpose. “Do you hear me?! I said stand up!”

“Hey, don’t cause such a ruckus. It’s just one kid,”

“Are Jedi always this stubborn?”

The second Stormtrooper made an incoherent, indifferent grumble as he shrugged his shoulders, wanting to end the small talk and just wait until your budged. When there was nothing but silence, spare the muttering complaints of the guards in the midst of the silence, you relished the peace again.

“Well, finally,” you quietly tell yourself and hung your head down.

There were worse things to worry about.

Visions revolving in hate, anger, and even death—these were the images that you cannot purge from your mind. Not even the purification of meditating proved to be of any help. Something was clouding your mind in the Force and bent them to their malignant will.

Much later, the ray shield died down at the push of a button. The same, irate Stormtrooper enters your cell, but you remained still as a stone. His boot harshly bumps into your knee.

“Hey,” he nudged. “Stand up!”

Nothing.

Again, he kicked your knee, hard enough for it to bruise in a few minutes.

When he’s had about enough, he kicked you in the stomach—he made it precise for the tip of his boot to rupture your gut. As you were weak—which he took advantage of—you curled up, hugging yourself with your arms coiled around your torso, you writhed in pain while supporting your entire weight with one hand planted on the floor.

“Don’t make me hit you again—though I wouldn’t even need a reason!“ he snarled.

You sharply, nasally inhaled; fingernails scratching against the dirty metal floor of the cell as you wait out for the pain to alleviate. Your eyes flicked open and your head jerked up, shooting the Stormtrooper an unwelcoming, hateful look in the eye—he didn’t want to admit it, but he flinched when he saw your bloodshot eyes: dark circles framing it, and the linings swelling in a burning pink hue.

“Come on, Jedi, we got a long ahead of—”

A soft rumble in the air hummed around the cell. Apathetic eyes stared at the Stormtrooper, watching him gag, desperately gasp for air through the barely-breathable helmet, and claw at his neck. He submitted to his knees, in the same level as you sitting down leisurely in the middle of the room, and it’s as though you two saw eye-to-eye—through that black tinted visor, he catches an arrogant smirk curling at the corner of your mouth, and he realizes too late that he’s crossed you.

You were neither a Jedi nor an Inquisitor. For now, you were something in between. Your madness is basically limbo.

You slowly raise your hand, your fingers are curled in a chokehold but there was still a gap around them, though it didn’t stay that long because with an abrupt closing motion of the hand—a popping sound came from the Stormtrooper, his head had twisted to an abnormal angle, and then his corpse made a loud thud that alarmed his companion.

“Hey, what’s going on over th—?”

Horrified, the Stormtrooper choked on the last words of his sentence. He stood there frozen in the hallway, contemplating whether to step inside to pull the dead Stormtrooper out of the cell; his course of action was to contact the maintenance assigned to the prison block to get you. The crew was equally afraid of you, but since they know in themselves that they’ve never crossed you, they’ve got nothing to fear—although it’s the way you look at people is what scares them, it’s rather more of an upward glare than a look.

Minutes later, the Second Brother strolls into the prison block as if it was some kind of leisurely pastime. At his command, the ray-shield disappeared and he let himself in your cell.

“Hello, little thorn, can’t be late for your daily exercise,”

“Says who?”

“Says me, the Seventh Sister, the Fifth Brother, and the Grand Inquisitor,”

“I’ve never seen the Grand Inquisitor. Though, none of you have autonomy over me.”

The Second Brother stood still for a brief second, his shoulders rose as he took in a big sigh. The hand behind his back hoisted to his helmet, the duraplast clicked and the mechanisms of the mask hissed as it loosened up. This was your first time seeing the bare face of the Inquisitor.

A human male, his fair skin was an open book written with scars and bruises—a few of which were by your own hand during the exercises—a pair of brown irises twinkled but you detect the apathy in them—the expression in them was a dramatic contrast to what you imagined him to be without that mask. He seems to be growing out his shaven head, there was a short yet noticeable length of hair. From his complexion, you wagered he’d be in his thirties. He bent down while keeping his helmet in one hand and tried to parlay with you in getting out of your cell.

“While you sit in these sorry walls, we have perfect autonomy over you,” he raises his free hand, a single finger extended. For each word or two, he poked your forehead to make sure you got the point. “No matter what you think.”

“You’re still not going to make me,”

He did a series of facial expressions to highlight his mock pensiveness: rolling his eyes, bobbing his head as he made a squeaking noise with his tongue against his teeth.

“Well, we don’t have the time to be very difficult, little thorn,” he clicked. “Unless, of course, we can ask your sweet Cal Kestis to make some arrange—!”

In the blink of an eye, you repeated the same action with the Second Brother, only this time you’re using two hands to choke him using the Force. They’ve exploited your mind by using Cal and whatever predicate they can come up with to trigger you—and they loved it when you’re easily stimulated by the mere mention of his name.

They’ve fashioned you into their personal time bomb and plaything altogether, saying the “magic word” to make a puppet of you and your emotions.

“Provoke me again with his name and what you plan to do with him—it’s your neck I’m snapping next!” you angrily growled.

The Second Brother tried to fight your chokehold, but he did it with more grace and dignity that he can afford. It was never your intention to instill fear, but your aggression is what cements it to everyone in this fortress. You expected him to gag, but you heard hints of snickering while he claws at his neck; regardless, you continued choking him.

A few more minutes lapsed before you decided to let him go out of your own volition. He coughed as he fell lower to your level, you’re practically looking down on him right now as he catches his breath.

Look how pathetic… you thought.

Over the Second Brother’s shoulder, you spotted the Fifth Brother standing in front of the door, unamused and grumbling like a freighter’s engine. You shot him the same bitter look you gave to the Stormtrooper and the Second Brother.

“One last time, [Y/N], I personally don’t like repeating myself—or anyone else, for that matter.”

The Second Brother regained his composure, dusted off his armor, and stood by. When you didn’t obey the Fifth Brother, he took matters to his own hands—literally. Shoving past the Second Brother, the other Inquisitor dragged you out of your cell.

“Get up and follow.”

The Second Brother hooked his arm around yours and followed the Fifth Brother.

“Where are you taking me?”

“No questions. Just follow.”

They escorted you to the dojo again. Waiting at the center of the room is the Seventh Sister, this time she wasn’t wielding an electrobaton, she was holding her own red haloed saber. The Second Brother shoved you away to face her; she raises her hand, in it was a weapon and she tossed it to you.

Your fingers trembled, you reluctantly wrapped them around the hilt. The steely coldness eventually warmed up around your palm. The glossy, dark grey finish distorted your reflection when you held it level to your face. The female Inquisitor stepped back—so did her two other companions—and ignited her saber. Your heart dropped to your feet when you heard two more buzz in succession. All of a sudden, your knees felt wobbly, you spun around, looking at the crimson rods of light glowering over their sinister faces.

“Go on and fight us,” the Seventh Sister initiated.

She didn’t want to hear anything from you. She immediately put herself in a stance, and then the two other followed. Having no choice, you did the same—one push of a button ignited a single beam, until you spotted the second switch and the latter half emitted out of its cylinder.

The three of them ganged up on you, but it was the Second Brother and Sixth Sister who were more aggressive with you. The Fifth Brother fought with great calculation and precision, conserving his strength for the next attack only to overwhelm you while assisting the other two. Lost in the thrill of the fight, the same burst of energy returned to you.

It was addictive. You didn’t know it was poisonous, and yet you kept on using it to your advantage. You know it to be wrong, but you cannot will yourself to break away from it. Like a leech, you’ve bitten into it.

And you liked it.

“Raaarrgh!!” the Seventh Sister roared as she swings down her saber.

You deflected the two with both ends of your given saber and pushed them back. You recompose yourself into a much more proper stance, then fixate on the Seventh Sister; you’re able to match her strength—if not her caliber—and equal your odds in this duel. However, you still have the Second Brother to deal with.

“Whoa, look at her go, Sister!!” the Second Brother cackled.

The Seventh Sister comes charging right towards you, but she was blocked at the last second, and before she could even pull away to afford an attack—you planted your sole of your shoe flat onto your stomach. She staggered and clutched her torso with one hand; quickly, you turn your attention to the Second Brother, who was evidently much feistier than Seventh Sister. He took most of your time—a pair of dual-ended sabers cutting through the air, their lights curving as they’re swung by the wielders, and sparks flew to light up the rest of the room.

“I guess the tough girl is back now, huh, little thorn!? Cal Kestis would be so impressed! You could practically kill him for abandoning you!”

That did it. Relying again once more on that intoxicating energy that granted you the strength of five Jedi Masters at best, a massive push of the Force sent everyone flying—even the hulking, six-feet-or-so Fifth Brother wasn’t spared by that immense wave of energy!

Only you remained standing in the circle, you looked around—there were so many targets to choose from! You had a vendetta for each one of them. You strode towards the one who gave out the taunt first—the Second Brother—while he was still shaking off the nausea, he reacted at the last minute and lousily deflected your hits.

Left end, right end… they all flung to his direction and he could not keep up with the speed of your wielding while suppressed of fighting space. He could only block you for so long.

When you sensed his sword arm becoming weak, his jawbone met the hard sole of your shoe and rendered him incapacitated. Next was the Seventh Sister, she was just about to hoist herself up back on her feet until she saw you sprinting toward her—she had time, albeit little of it, to evade you but your sabers still clashed. She kept up with your pace—all the twirls and flashy footwork, she matched it all—but she was overwhelmed by how heavy your attacks dealt. You bore your weight on her as she deflected you and never has she ever felt so intimidated in all her life! Your eyes—now devoid of empathy and flooded with rage—blended perfectly with the redness of the saber. You were satisfied when you saw the Seventh Sister struggling, it’s plastered all over her face!

“Oh, look at you, the shrewd sister is overtaken,” you taunted, basically parroting the Second Brother’s trademark singsong. “By a damn prisoner! Hah! How does it feel to have your pride stabbed right into its gut, huh?”

Before she could even react and respond, you staggered the female Mirialan again and this time she stayed down—your fist to her cheek made sure of it. The third and final enemy: the Fifth Brother. It was brawn against brains. Strength versus dexterity. After all, what good is brute strength if you can’t even utilize it efficiently?

“Come on, big guy—I’m wide open!”

The Fifth Brother wasn’t a fan of being taunted. He charges on like a deranged Reek, his saber brandished up in the air, ready for an overhead strike but you slipped away in the blink of an eye and slashed him from behind. All three of them exchanged glances with one another and then nodded in agreement, as if they’ve had a Plan Z all along; three Inquisitors come charging towards you, but before they could lay a finger on your hair, you planted your fist hard into the tiled floor—your knuckles swelled and then bled the same time the tiles cracked.

At first, the cracks stayed only within the radius of your fist, until they multiplied and spread. From thin crosshairs to actual breakages along the surface, the marble broke into shards and was sent flying with the current of the Force energy that sourced from your punch—like seashells tugged by the waves as they’re beached to the shoreline. The shards cut through the Seventh Sister and Fifth Brother’s cheeks, they had to shield themselves with their hands—consequentially getting their palms and fingers nicked as well.

It was too strong for them to fight, rendering you untouchable until the wind died down. The loaned lightsaber which you used so skillfully fell from your grasp and clattered to the floor.

Silence. Soft, tired gasping of air. And then a single, slow series of applause followed.

Everyone searched for the applauder.

The Grand Inquisitor.

He was hauntingly terrifying, alright. Ashen as bone, blood-red streaks painted on parts of his face, and a pair of topaz-gold eyes. He walked past the felled Inquisitors and stood in front of you—his height obviously lumbered over you that you had to step back to fully acknowledge him and look him in the eyes without breaking your back.

“Well, well,” he cooed, bringing his hands behind his back. “It seems that we have a new face among us.”

You panted one last time, and used the Force to bring the haloed saber back to your hand. You poised your demeanor in front of the Pau’an, and with a dark, sinister grace—you bend your knee, the black, weathered saber is presented in your hand to the Grand Inquisitor. A smirk curled along his ribbed skin, showing a corner of his jagged, pointed teeth.

“Welcome to the fray, Twelfth Sister.”

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